call the other. Plus, we didn’t share many things in common. While my mom and sisters were content to sit on the porch, gossiping about neighborhood drama over a carton of Newports, I’d wanted better for myself.
I always had. And while most parents should be happy their kids wanted better than they had, my mom and dad seemed to resent my drive in a way that highlighted just how insecure they were with their own lives. They’d settled, and they knew it.
Even in their marriage, they hadn’t put forth the effort it deserved to raise five kids. For years, they’d gone through the motions rather than work hard to make their lives better. To most, they didn’t appear to be more than friends who cohabitated for the sake of a budget and convenience. I wanted more than that for my life.
So when my mom called me, I answered. I always did. Because someone was either dead or dying or she needed something from me. And while the latter frequently annoyed me, I couldn’t help but hope for it when the alternative involved someone’s demise.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked, closing the door to Sophia’s bedroom behind me.
“Hi, Andrew, it’s Mom.”
It always sounded strange to be called Andrew. Only my mom referred to me that way. I was Andrew Christopher Nolan III, and since my dad went by Drew, my mom had always called me by my given name to distinguish us from each other. If she’d had it her way, she would’ve named me Jesse, a Full House nod I was thankful I didn’t receive.
When my younger brother was born seven years later, she tried Jesse for him too, but my dad wouldn’t have it. The most he would allow it for was our bulldog, who we all called Uncle just to mess with my mom.
“What’s new?” I asked, waiting to hear whose funeral I’d need to attend or what she wanted from me.
“I just called to see how you’re doing. How’s the bar?”
“Good. Same as it always is. What’s up with you guys?”
“Not much,” my mom said casually. “Dad started working at the car dealer up the street.”
I was pretty sure he had worked there years ago, but I didn’t ask. Management had probably changed since then, and they must have had no clue he’d ever been employed there. I tried to remember why he’d left, but my mom spoke again before I could.
“He hurt his back trying to lift a tire he had no business going near in the first place.”
And there it was. The reason for her call. Undoubtedly, my dad’s injury meant he was unable to do as much around the house, so she’d called me.
“He okay?” I asked.
“He’ll be fine. Lying around on the couch, milking it every chance he gets.”
I laughed softly. “I’m sure.” Silence lingered on both ends of the phone for what felt like a long time. “Can I do anything to help?” If I waited long enough, she’d ask anyway, so I put it out there first.
“Yeah, if you have the time. Just some yard work and stuff. The grass is getting pretty long, and that branch finally fell off that tree in the backyard the other day. It can probably just be broken up and tossed into the woods.”
“Okay, I’ll get time at some point to come over this week. What’s Cody up to? He should be doing some of it too.”
My brother still lived at home, and there was no reason he shouldn’t be helping if I could find time to.
“I could ask him if I ever saw him. He’s never home.”
Sounded like Cody. “I’ll call him.”
“Thanks, Andrew. The girls and I miss you around here.” She said “girls” like they were all jumping rope and playing dress-up. Two of the three “girls” were older than me but still lived at home, mooching off my parents, who barely had anything to give.
“I miss you too.” And it was true. I did miss them. I just didn’t miss that life. It was why I’d moved out when I was old enough to get a job that paid for a small apartment and why I only talked to a couple of my buddies from high school.
I’d realized shortly after graduation that if I were going to go anywhere in life, be anything, I’d need to distance myself from the people and places that were holding me back. And then, when I’d agreed to “sub” for Brody, I’d all but cut them off