The Price of Inertia (The Seven Sins #4) - Lily Zante Page 0,20

her cardigan. It’s chilly outside and I don’t want her to catch anything.

I want to tell her that I have a new job, but I don’t want to overwhelm her, give her new things to have to remember. Strange how I’ve never thought of it like that before, strange how getting older makes you think of these things—that living life and reporting on each day might be ‘stuff’ that is just another piece of information to have to hold onto.

Instead we reminisce. We talk about my dad, and our vacations when I was younger, and the friends and neighbors we’ve known over the years. I want to bring back the memories of the life she lived, in those moments when she remembers. I let her talk and tell me whatever she wants as we walk through the calming gardens.

But as the day moves on she lapses back into episodes of not knowing, of becoming confused, of faltering when she’s about to say something. Worst of all is the dead expression in her eyes when she looks at me as if I’m a complete stranger.

The nurse tells me that it’s been a long visit, and it’s better if I leave and let mom rest. So I say goodbye, and I hug her frail body, trying not to squeeze it with the full force of the love I feel for her. I try not to linger too much, to not inhale deeply as my face brushes her shoulder and I wish I could smell the lavender again. I pull away with my heart in fragments and I leave the nursing home feeling wretched.

I hate to leave her behind. It doesn’t matter how nice Maplewood is, the thought of mom there, lost and not knowing who she is or where she is and who I am, is cold and makes me uneasy. A ball of anxiety grows in my stomach as I check my cell phone for messages before I drive back. There’s a message from Jamie and it’s like a tiny lifeline of happiness. He’s asked me to come over for dinner on the way back from my mom’s. ‘If you’re not too busy’, he adds.

It’s Saturday night. I don’t want to mess up his plans. I’d told him that I’d pass by to pick up a few more more of my things. I text him:

Only if you have nothing better planned for tonight?

He replies back:

Come over

No plans

Dinner with him is exactly what I need.

As I drive back the hour’s journey seems longer. When I was in my apartment, it was three-quarters of an hour, and where I live now has added on an extra fifteen minutes. I never worried about the distance before. Maybe because my life was different, it was secure and assured. I had my job, and my apartment, and I was in ignorant bliss about my boyfriend. Is it that the fifteen minutes has changed things so much, or that the rug has been pulled from beneath my feet?

I no longer have the job I loved, no apartment that I can call mine. No boyfriend either, at least, not one who belongs to me. I’m better off without that cheating, lying scumbag who put his penis inside another woman and got her pregnant. I forgave him once before and I should have learned from that mistake. Jamie’s analysis of my bad luck with men is spot on. I am reckless. I take risks. I give my heart too easily.

A liar never fully changes.

A leopard never changes its spots.

One thing is clear: men and relationships aren’t my concern right now. There’s only one thing I need to do while I try and put myself together. I must keep my mom at Maplewood, and take care of her, visit her as much as I can at the weekends. The staff here are so much better, and she seems better cared for. She might slowly be wandering away from me, but at least she is alive. I must keep her there, and that’s the only thing that keeps me working for Ward. I have to put up with him no matter how rude and insolent he is.

I feel slightly better when I arrive at Jamie’s place. But when he opens the door I hug him for the longest time. All of a sudden I’m overcome with emotion and I grab onto him and nestle my face in the hollow of his neck. He holds me silently, and when the moment stretches