Page 37 of The Love Playbook

I step to the side, off the sidewalk and out of the path of students headed to and from class, ducking beneath the overhang of the education building. “What’s going on?”

“It’s your mother. She hasn’t gone to work all week, and I’m afraid she’s going to get fired. I don’t even know if she called in or if she just flat out doesn’t show up. I tried to ask her, but you know how she gets. She didn’t have an answer for me, and as far as I know, she hasn’t gone to therapy in at least two weeks. Even before your visit, she started canceling appointments. So, when she missed her therapy this evening and I watched her reject your phone call, I got really worried.”

“What do you mean she missed her therapy session last week?” I ask, alarmed. “I thought she was still going to Dr. Sherri. She told me as much just this past weekend, said it was going really well.”

“She’s missed three sessions now. Said she was doing great. Promised me she’d keep going but only once a month, and I know how expensive those sessions are, so I didn’t think anything of it. But then she told me about Garry, and it got me thinking. . .”

This is about more than Mom thinking she’s made progress.

The air hisses from my lungs as I let this sink in.

Mom decides to stop going to therapy just before she finds out my father’s getting remarried. Perfect.

“What else? How’s she functioning otherwise?”

“I came over today to check on things like I usually do, and she had a sink full of dishes, but nothing too awful. Her cupboards were bare as bones, though.”

“Yeah. They were empty when I showed up for my birthday, too. I had to go shopping that morning.”

“I told her to go to the store, but she didn’t listen. Said it was fine, that you’d figure it out once you got there. I swear, sometimes I can’t with that woman . . .”

Panic needles beneath my skin at the prospect Carol might give up on her?on us.

“I hate calling you like this,” Carol continues. “I know you’ve got your own life up there in Ann Arbor. The last thing you need is to worry about this, but I thought you’d want to know.”

“No, yes, of course I do.” I reach up to pinch the bridge of my nose, wondering where I’d be without her the past year I’ve been in college. “You did the right thing by calling me.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’m just hoping this is a one-off.”

You and me both.

I swallow down the anxiety rising in my chest, trying to think clearly through the haze of panic. “You’ve always been so good to us, and I appreciate it. So does Mom, you know that.”

“I thought you leaving for school would hit her hard, but after she seemed okay last year, I breathed a sigh of relief. Thought things were turning around. But this news with Garry, it’s hitting her hard.”

“I know.” I bring my thumb to my mouth and chew on the edge of my nail, my stomach a tangle of knots.

“She can’t lose this job, Charlotte. Her alimony payments ended in August.”

“Shit,” I hiss, staring out at campus. “You’re kidding?”

“I’m afraid so.”

I knew they were bound to end at some point, but rather than face the reality of what might happen when they did, ignoring their approaching expiration was easier.

Students pass by on the sidewalk, laughing and smiling, carefree as they talk about the upcoming weekend, and I wonder how many of them are contemplating how the hell to get their mother to climb down from the proverbial ledge.

I rake a hand through my hair. Somebody needs to get through to her, and if she won’t go see Dr. Sherri or take my calls, then I only have one choice.

“I’ll pay her a visit,” I say, nodding to myself. “I’ll talk to her about work, make sure she goes in tomorrow, and stress the importance of going back to Dr. Sherri.”

“Are you sure you can leave school? I don’t want to worry you, but I?”

“No. It’s fine, Carol, really. I have an exam tomorrow I can’t miss, so I can’t spend the night, but I’ll go over tonight and see if I can talk some sense into her.”

“If you’re sure . . .”

“I am. I’ll get this straightened out, and you have my number if you need anything else. Thanks, Carol,” I say as I disconnect the line and start to walk away from the building, wondering how exactly I plan on getting to my mother’s house when I no longer have a vehicle.