“I have the assessment in the morning. I’m supposed to leave the day after.”
“I can’t wait to see you.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“You too.”
Placing the cup back on the counter, I walk across the room. When I get to the doorway, I stop and look at it sitting on the counter over my shoulder.
Batter up.
Me: Hey.
It takes more than a minute for her to respond, every second feeling like a year. When I hear the ping announcing a message, I can’t swipe fast enough.
Dani :Hi.
Me: How are you?
Dani: Good. In the bathtub.
Me: Are you fucking with me?
Very slowly, a picture loads on my screen of one bent knee in a pool of bubbles. A wine glass is on the ledge, along with a row of little candles.
Me: You better be alone.
Dani: Of course.
I erase every response I type out. I’m not sure which emotion to use to inspire the follow-up. When hers pops up, I let out a sigh of relief.
Dani: I’m good. Thank you for checking.
Me: Out of all the words you’ve ever said to me, and you’ve said some things that have been borderline offensive, those are the ones I hate most.
Dani: Which?
Me: Thank you.
Dani: How is that?
Me: Because it implies I’m doing you a favor. Or going out of my way when I ask if you’re okay or checking on you.
Dani: Ok. I appreciate you doing those things.
Me: That’s better. Sort of.
Dani: How does your shoulder feel tonight?
Me : :(
Dani: Ice it.
Me: I don’t want to talk about my shoulder.
Dani: I know. I was just thinking about it. The wine is starting to make me sleepy. I need to get out of here and get to bed.
Me: I’m here if you need me. You know that.