added, “I’ll have to tell you about it sometime. But would you be able to watch Sarah during the day tomorrow? She’s not in school the rest of the week.”
“Yep, I can do that.”
I thanked her and got myself off the phone as quickly as I could, before Noreen started gossiping about her neighbors next door.
But now I had another problem. Noreen’s inability to watch Sarah Friday night meant only one thing: I’d have to ask my parents if they could keep my daughter. Devon wasn’t a problem as he’d be with his dad. What was sad was that Sarah was actually reaching the age where I could have left her home alone—but events of late made me hesitant. Sure, right now she was sleeping as if she were in a coma, but just yesterday she’d been setting fires, meaning I would only be able to concentrate on work if Sarah were under adult supervision.
Just the thought of talking to my mother made my stomach clench.
Taking a long drag on the cigarette, I then called my parents’ house. They both had cell phones but rarely used them, and my mother preferred talking on the landline.
When she answered, my stomach knotted up again.
“Hey, mom.”
“How’ve you been, honey?”
“Better.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” The tone of my mother’s voice changed, and I was hit with a sudden revelation: the only time I called my parents was when something was going wrong. I rarely called them when something good happened. Sure, I invited them to Devon’s kindergarten graduation and the art and science fair Sarah had entries in last year—but how often did I simply call and chat?
It was something I’d have to work on after Sarah was taken care of.
“Sarah has a doctor’s appointment Friday, so now I have to work the night shift then. That would have been okay, except my babysitter can’t watch her…so I was wondering if you and dad would be able to keep her overnight.” It would be inconvenient, sure, since my parents had moved out of Winchester years ago, so I’d have to make a trip—but Sarah was worth it.
“Honey, I wish we could, but we already have plans. Some friends of ours are celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary—it’s been in the works for months. And he has cancer. They’re not sure if he’ll make it through the chemotherapy he’s starting next week. So this is very important. We can’t miss this.”
“Yeah. I understand.”
“Is Sarah okay?”
After all that, I wasn’t ready to tell her what was going on—not yet. “Yeah.”
“I’m sorry, dear. I wish we could help. Do you have someone else who can watch her?”
“Yeah,” I lied. “I’ll figure it out.”
“How’s everything else going? How’s school?”
“So far, so good.” God, I talked a good game, but already I was shutting myself off. And in that pregnant pause, my mother worked up the courage to say what had been on her mind.
“Randi, your father and I have been talking. Wouldn’t it be easier for you to concentrate more easily on school if you and the kids were living with us?”
Of course, it would—but I wasn’t ready to give up my freedom. “Mom, I appreciate the offer.” I sucked down the last bit of cigarette before adding, “Let me think about it, okay?”
“I wish you would. I want you to really ponder how it could change your lives for the better.”
I paused, no longer willing to give her knee-jerk answers. I’d blown off the offer so many times, I hadn’t tried to think of the positives a change like that could make.
But my mother had.
“Honey, all we’d ask is for help with the groceries. And, of course, you’d have to take care of your car, insurance, the kids’ clothes. But you wouldn’t have to worry about a mortgage or utilities. Your father and I could watch the kids so you wouldn’t have to worry about a babysitter or picking them up from school—I could do that.” The line was silent for a moment. “We’d really like to help if you’d let us.”
“Mom, thanks. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll think about it.”
“Please do, sweetheart. You could focus on school instead of trying to work it around your job and everything else.”
“Thanks, mom.”
“Well…give our love to Devon and Sarah, okay? Tell them grandma and grandpa miss them.”
“I sure will.”
“And I’m sorry about Friday night. If I could do something during the day for you instead—”
“It’s okay, mom. Really.” After a second, I added, “Sorry, mom, but I