Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
But there was really nothing I could do about it, so I did what I normally did when I felt helpless. I called my mom.
“It’s good to hear from you, sweetheart.” Her voice was tired like she’d been asleep. Or maybe she was ill. It was only nine-thirty in her time zone.
“Yeah, I was just hanging around here in my room with nothing to do, so I thought I’d call.”
She laughed. “Oh, you have to be bored these days to call your mother.”
“I’ve been really busy, Mom. I’m a working man now.”
She coughed, and I couldn’t help wondering if it had anything to do with the cancer. Funny how a diagnosis could make even a common cold or a sleepy voice sound terrifying.
“Oh, I know. I talked to your boss. Such a sweet guy. Is he really letting you fly down for my surgery?”
“Actually, uh… I think he’s coming with me.”
“Wow. I thought that’s what he said, but then when I told your father, he said I must have misunderstood. He didn’t think an employer would be that hands-on, he said. But I told him that you were doing a different kind of job, and that you and this man had become friends. Is that right?”
I laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling a tiny tug in my heart, then closed my eyes. “Yeah, that’s right. Did Kage tell you about what I do for him? About who he is and all that?”
“Not exactly. But he did tell me that the secrecy contract you signed did not extend to mothers, and that you could tell me anything you wanted about him.”
My eyes flew open at that. “Really? Were those his actual words? That I could tell you anything?”
“Yes, honey. I wouldn’t make that up. He said anything.”
“He’s an MMA fighter,” I blurted. “Supposed to be really good, but I haven’t seen him fight yet. You can check him out on MichaelKage.com. I made that website myself, Mom. I’ve been taking pictures of him, building his website, establishing a social media presence, and I got him an appearance at a gym over the weekend. He’s rich, or his uncle is, and we live in this really fancy hotel.”
She laughed. “Slow down, honey,” she said. “Sounds like you’re doing a fantastic job, but... He’s a fighter? He didn’t sound like a fighter. He sounded like a very nice person, and well-spoken.”
That made me laugh. “Fighters aren’t mean and illiterate, Mom. I mean, they could be, I suppose. But I think for the most part they’re just normal guys who happen to beat each other up for a living. For our entertainment.”
“Hmmm. I hadn’t thought about it that way. Maybe it says more about us than them, that they do it for our entertainment.”
“Maybe…” I wondered if Kage had ever thought of it that way.
“You seem different, son. What’s going on?”
“Different?” My voice squeaked. That was the second time someone had accused me of seeming different in one day. Of course, the first had only concerned my skin color. This one was real. This was my mom, who knew me better than anyone on the entire planet and could always guess my mood or tell when something was bothering me. What made me think I could hide from her?
“I guess I’m growing up,” I told her, which was partially true. “This working for a living thing really makes you look at things in a different way. Plus, all this stuff about you having… surgery.” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word cancer to her. Not while she still had it in her body.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “Everything is going to be fine. I’m doing the right thing to get rid of it for good.”
“I know. I just don’t like thinking about it.”
She gasped on the other end of the phone. “Is this him, Jamie? Michael “The Machine” Kage, it says. I’m on his website. My goodness, he’s… Well, he’s something else. Look at this, Jennifer. This is the man— er, boy— your brother is working for. Somehow, I thought he’d be older, being your boss and all.”
“Oh my God,” I heard Jennifer squeal in the background. “Is he single?” Then she snatched the phone from Mom and asked me directly, “Is he single?”
“Nooo,” I lied, jealousy prickling all along the back of my neck. “And neither are you. Aren’t you supposed to be getting married soon?”
But she was gone, replaced by my mom again. “Let me put this thing on speaker phone. There we go.” Her voice took on a tinny, distant quality. “Son, did you say you took these pictures yourself?”
“Yep,” I said. “Kage bought me a really nice digital camera. It cost thousands of dollars, Mom. They look pretty professional, huh? I’m thinking about advertising my services when I get back to school, to make some extra money. Don’t you think they look professional?”