bad about asking someone else. But, if you decide that you liked how it felt…then, I’d like to do it again. And again. Either way, call me.”
I delete Porsha’s message and drop my head into my hands with a groan. Trying to have sex with my sponsor is probably the stupidest thing I’ve done in years. She’s beautiful and smart and three years into her own sobriety journey, she’s an amazing support. But last night I was hard and aching with a need I knew she couldn’t satisfy. When she went to the corner store to buy condoms, I threw on my clothes and left.
By the time my Uber pulls up to my building I’m exhausted and grateful there aren’t any twenty-four-hour liquor stores close by.
I stop at the reception to pick up my mail. The doorman isn’t in his seat, so I ring the small bell to get his attention.
“Oh hey, Carter my man. I was just about to call up to your place. Someone stopped by—”
I cut him off with a groan. “If it’s not a delivery—”
‘You’re not here,” he finishes for me.
“Exactly.” I grin.
He fidgets with his dark blue tie and smiles. “Even if it’s your mother?”
“Especially if it’s my mother,” I quip.
“Oh…shit,” he mutters and looks over his shoulder in the direction of the door to the management office.
Unease prickles, and I start to back away from the reception desk.
“What’s going on?”
“I let her up.”
“What?”
He shrugs, completely unconcerned. “She’s your mom, yo. You should talk to her. Ain’t right. Listen, I’d give my right arm to talk to my mother again.”
I level him with a withering frown. “You’re lucky I like you, man.”
He hands me a bundle and gives me a two-fingered salute. I roll my eyes at him and take my time walking to the elevator.
I know it’s shitty to avoid my family, but they stress me out. Although, if I’m honest, everything about my life in New York City stresses me out.
She’s sitting at my dining room table with a mug of steaming coffee in front of her when I walk in. She looks up, her wide eyes shadowed by exhaustion, her face is free of make-up, and her dark hair is scraped back into a ponytail.
She’s squeezing her mug so tightly the skin on her knuckles looks like it’s about to crack.
I shut the door, drop my mail on the table, and take a seat across from her. “Mom…”
She shakes her head and brushes her tears away to compose herself. “I’m glad you remember I’m your mother. Because the way you’ve acted since you got back, I wondered if maybe you’d forgotten.”
“Come on, that’s not—” Her eyes narrow in warning. “What?”
“Don’t compound it with a lie. You haven’t been to Sunday dinner once.”
“I have AA on Sundays.”
She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “You could spare two hours if you wanted to.”
I squirm because it’s true. “I know you’re going through things. I was trying to give you space, but it’s been three months and this distance, not just physical but emotional, is killing me.”
I close my eyes against the painful stab of guilt and genuine remorse. “I’m a selfish shit. I’m sorry.”
She purses her lips, but her eyes soften a little. “I’m not sure if you really are.” She looks around my apartment and then grimaces. “But the state of this place sure is.”
“Did you come over just to give me shit?” I ask.
She lets out a long sigh and leans toward me with a sad smile on her face. “No, I came because I miss you. And to deliver a package from the lawyers. Since you don’t return their calls either.”
“I haven’t received any messages from them.”
She huffs. “As if you actually listen to your voicemail…” she mutters and reaches into the tote bag perched on the chair beside her. She pulls out a legal sized envelope and slides it across the table to me.
“What’s that?”
“Things your dad left you.”
My gut dips. As crazy as it sounds, but until something or someone reminds me, I forget my father is gone. The realization is like a knife in the heart. I eye the envelope with trepidation. “Okay. I’ll take a look.”
“I know you don’t want the reminders. Neither do I. But avoiding it won’t make it any better.” She covers my hand with hers, and I turn it over and link our fingers.
“I’m not avoiding anything. I’m just trying to figure out what’s next.”