“What? I thought it was the next Friday.” I look over at the calendar on the refrigerator and see that I’m the one that’s in the wrong. The date that’s circled in fat red pen is this Friday and I’m just an idiot. “Holy shit we have so much to do!”
“Agreed. But we can do it.”
I want to bring up everything that happened last night. What she said to me and what I asked her. But the fact that she doesn’t remember and that the event is so much closer than I realized changes everything. If she doesn’t remember that she called me a whore, maybe she doesn’t remember seeing me with Edward or whatever set her off. But one thing is for sure, with this much to do, if she told me it was none of my business while she was blackout drunk, there’s no way that she’s going to talk to me when she’s sober and in the middle of what seems to be a very, very bad hangover. Shit.
“Well,” I say, “I’ll get started. Finish your coffee and feel a little better and then join me. Did you take the medicine I left for you?”
She nods. “I did, thanks.”
“Okay.”
I’m pulling out my phone before I’ve even left the kitchen.
She doesn’t remember anything. Not what we said or even what started her drinking that much. Plus, I didn’t realize that the event is this week and not next week. Is it cowardly to put off the conversation until that’s over?
I get to work where we left off yesterday. It takes a few minutes but my phone chimes shortly.
I would never call you a coward, Julia. You know the situation, and your mother. Do what you think is best to make sure it goes smoothly. And I’ll do whatever you need to help get ready. I might even be able to bribe Patrick to help.
Your assistant? If he’s as effective as you say, he could probably get everything done in half the time. And thanks. I don’t want to wait, but when she’s in this mindset I can only see it ending badly.
I’ve been in my fair share of parental arguments, he types. I get it. The last thing you want is to make everything worse before the event. But after, if you need backup for that discussion, let me know.
It’s amazing that he would even offer before I knew that I needed it. But the knowledge that he’d stick with me, sit by me through trying to get through to my mom, brings me a relief I didn’t know that I needed to feel.
Thank you. Have I mentioned that I love you?
I can picture him smiling. You may have said something about it this morning in my bed.
Of course he reminds me that we were in his bed and all the things we did there. It’s a very effective reminder. And then, less than a minute later,
I love you too.
I’m sorry that we’ll have to postpone going dancing. I tell him.
Dancing can wait. I’m not going anywhere.
How is it even possible that I made a mistake this big? I’m glad that we’ve gotten as much done as we have on the house, because there’s still three rooms that aren’t done. I must be crazy, because I could have sworn. But it doesn’t matter. All I need to do is get it done, and I plan to get through a good chunk of it this morning while mom is still nursing that hangover. She’s done brilliantly, but she has a tendency to hesitate and take too long on the decisions that we need to make.
I hear my mother go upstairs, and I hear the shower running, but she doesn’t reappear. That’s okay. She needs to take her time and feel at her best to be able to do this.
And I do make progress on my own. I’m glad the office is finished, cause what to throw away and what to keep is an easier thing to decide when it’s not paperwork that refers to things I was never aware of. By the time noon rolls around, Mom comes back downstairs and she does look better. And I have the living room completely finished. Even she’s impressed.
“That’s amazing, Julia.”
“Thank you.”
She looks at me for a couple of seconds, and I wonder if she’s remembering something from last night. But she doesn’t give anything away. “Well then. Let’s try to get more done.”
“I can keep going with the cleaning,” I say. “I’m sure you have other things to do to make sure everything is ready for the party. You could work on that, if you want. It might be more effective if we split our energy.”
Finally, she smiles, though it’s still a little pained. “Are you kicking me off the cleaning?”
I smile back. “If there’s anything in particular that you’re dying to save, tell me now. Otherwise I’m going to be a whirlwind.”