Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“You look beautiful, you know that?”
Mama grimaced and rested her hand on her hip. “Beautiful? I haven’t had time to gussy myself up today. Been workin’ in the coop and cleanin’ the house all day. Yesterday I used my new curling iron. It was too hot, and I about singed half my bangs off.” They both laughed at that. “You got something on your mind, don’t you? I know this isn’t just no friendly visit.”
“What?” He threw up his hands. “A son can’t give his mother a compliment and just stop by to say hello?”
“Ya come over here all of a sudden, then say something nice. I was born at night but not last night,” she joked.
He followed her into the kitchen, then heard the scamper of little paws.
“Hey, Toby!” Toby was Mama’s little terrier. He was thirteen years old, blind out of one eye, and a little scrappy thing despite his age and disability. Music drifted from Mama’s phone that was lying on the white kitchen counter. Some old country song he couldn’t remember the name of.
“Where’s Ronald?” He sat down at the table as she picked up what looked to be tiny crumbs of bread from the stove and tossed them in the trash can.
“He’s at work.”
“I thought this was his day off?” Mama poured him a glass of Sprite Zero, then set it on the table before him.
“It is. He wanted some overtime.”
He sipped on the drink. The kitchen smelled like chocolate and fresh carrots. Maybe Mama was baking a cake and chopping vegetables.
“You okay on money?” he asked before taking another taste of the effervescent thirst-quencher.
“You ask me that way too much, Roman. Yes, honey. I’m fine.” She sighed as she opened the refrigerator door and removed a bag of celery, setting it on the counter next to her thick wooden cutting board.
“Just wanna make sure is all. Don’t want you worryin’ about anything like that.”
“I appreciate you, honey, but we’re fine. Bills paid. You’re mighty generous, but everything is good this way. I even had enough money to join that new gym they built up down the road. What’s it called? Planet Fitness.”
“Mama, I hope you’re not killing yourself trying to lose a few pounds again.”
Mama was infamous for trying new supplements that hit the market and follow get-thin-quick-diets and exercise routines to keep her weight in check. Her weight fluctuated frequently, and her new doctor told her that all of that up and down stuff over the years had caused her metabolism to slow down even more. She had been looking into Ozempic, too, but got scared after reading about some patients having chronic, irreversible diarrhea. Mama said it was menopause and natural spread. Maybe it was both. He just wanted her to be healthy and content, whatever that looked like.
“Not killin’ myself, just doing the right thing. You know slow thyroids run in my family. And I’m older now.” She sighed. “Harder to get the pounds off. If I even look at a piece of pie, I gain ten pounds.” She giggled. “I baked Mildred a chocolate cake for her birthday this mornin’, and didn’t touch that frosting not one time,” she said proudly. “I’m doing what needs to be done. Not tryna be a stick, only eat better.” She grabbed the celery out of the plastic grocery sack and ran it under the tap water from the sink.
“I understand. That’s good. As long as you’re not hurtin’ yourself, I’m fine with it. Any man should be proud to have you on his arm, but I hope you’re doing it for yourself.”
“I sure am. For the first time in a long time, Roman, I am focusing on me.” She pointed to herself then transferred the celery onto the cutting board, and grabbed a sharp, long knife. “Besides, I like doing that elliptical. It’s fun.” She began chopping the vegetable into thick chunks.
“Well, as long as you’re enjoying it, I suppose there is no harm in it. Mama, I wanna ask you something.”
Pausing from cutting her vegetables, she pulled open the dishwasher and began removing glasses and plates, placing them in the cabinets while Toby lapped noisily from his water bowl.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“When I came back to you from foster care, did I tell you that you were a terrible mother and that I hated you?”
Mama’s movements slowed, but she kept working on her chores. Her fingers wrapped around a large white platter, squeezing, then stopped moving altogether. Silence. She started up again at last, moving around, this time opening a high cabinet and stretching on her tippy toes to place some little green and blue striped teacups away. Getting up from his chair, he took the teacups out of her hands and placed them on the shelf for her. When he closed the cabinet, they stood side by side, neither looking at one another.