“I told you he didn’t.” I opened my eyes. “So. . .I have to go because—”
“I want you back home.”
“Give it time. I’m being positive and practicing social distancing.”
“Social distancing. Self-quarantining. All these new terms from this craziness.”
I shrugged. “I learned another one today. Covidiot.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the name of a person who disregards health and safety guidelines dealing with the coronavirus. And I don’t want to be one, so I’ll be sitting in Zora’s apartment with Ganesha until I have better news.”
Silence hit the other line.
“Mom?”
“This is too much for my mental state, Jade.”
“I probably shouldn’t be there anyway, Mom. Dad is high risk.”
“Well—”
“I saw on the news that people with underlying conditions should engage in social distancing. He’s diabetic. Even if I were back in Los Angeles, I wouldn’t visit you until this was done.”
“Not visit? He doesn’t care. He would rather you be safe at home in your old bedroom.”
“What?”
“You can do your sculptures in the garage.”
I laughed. “Mom, even if I flew back to Los Angeles, I am staying at my apartment. I am not moving back into my old room. And I have so much I would have to move from my studio to sculpt there. No way.”
“Why not? Only God knows how long this quarantine will last. Geneva said it could be until 2021.”
“Where is Geneva getting her information?”
“From reputable news sources. . .I’m sure.”
I smirked. “Okay.”
“And your grandmother is in that nursing home. I should have never let your father convince me to put her in there. She could die from—”
“Grandma is going to be okay.”
“How are you with money?”
“Excellent. Dad and you have bothered me about saving money for years. I actually have six months of my budget in the bank. Rent is paid.”
“That makes sense. The last art showing was a success.”
“Every piece sold.”
“What will you do next?”
“I have no idea. I’m just trying to get back.”
“Well, maybe you can just bring the dog with you.”
“I’m not doing that.” I tapped my finger on my leg. “So. . .Mom, I have to go take Ganesha for a walk.”
“Well, call me as soon as you get back in the apartment. Hundreds of people are dying in New York every day. And not just from the virus. I want to make sure you’re safe. New York is full of serial killers, rapists, and—”
“Mom, I’ll talk to you later. Love you. Bye.” I hung up before she could say anything else. “Jesus Christ!”
I set my phone on the coffee table. Annoyance came, but I had no one to be upset with. It wasn’t my mother’s fault that she was stressed for me. We were all worried. It wasn’t the airline’s fault that we had a global pandemic. And it damn sure wasn’t Zora’s fault for scheduling her wedding right at the time when shit became real in the US. No one had any idea what we were facing.
Yet, my anger persisted.
I tried not to let my anxiety take over me. I was twenty-seven and this virus had taken people of all ages. Doctors had reported that many of the infected could not breathe without ventilators. That didn’t sound like anything I wanted to play with.
Damn it. What the hell am I going to do?
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but I knew it would wake Ganesha. And this dilemma wasn’t his fault either.
My phone chimed, signaling text messages.
I grabbed it and read.
Zora: How are you & Ganesha?
Me: Fine. U?
Zora: Our flights back to New York are officially canceled.
I scratched my head. “Fuck. Which means Ganesha has no one to watch him until you get back.”
I tried to dial her.
She didn’t pick up. Instead, she texted back.
Zora: I can’t talk now. I’m at a meeting held by the resort manager. We’re all stuck here. It’s a shit show. This woman is crying, and her husband is going delirious, yelling at the staff.
Me: Holy shit!
Zora: But I guess being stuck at a resort in the Maldives isn’t as bad as most people right now.
True. Unless there are people on the island with you that are infected.
I kept that thought to myself and typed back.
Me: You’re right. You’re lucky. Stay positive and safe. Call me when you can.
Zora: I will. Love you!
Me: Love you too.
When I gazed down, I spotted Ganesha looking up. He always did that, when Zora texted or called as if he knew his mommy was checking on him.
“Sorry, buddy.” I gave him a sad smile. “You’re stuck with me for longer than we thought.”
And what about all my upcoming sculpture commissions for this summer? I’ll just have to email all my customers and let them know I can’t make anything.
I gritted my teeth. I hated to disappoint people, even if this was an actual emergency.
A noise sounded near the door and jolted me out of my thoughts.