Page 95 of Come to Me

This is going to be more difficult than I hoped. "I'd love to hear about it."

There's a tiny hint of life on her face. It may just be the second glass of wine, but I'm trying to stay optimistic.

We slip into a conversation about her job. She works as an office manager for a real estate company. Long hours, lots of weekends, but it pays well enough.

The P.A. system turns on and a voice directs us to take our seats. I lead Barbara inside. We have a spot in the fourth row—Alyssa must have arranged it. But this is not of much interest to Barbara.

She sits and plays a game on her phone. Conversation over.

I take a deep breath, but my clenched muscles refuse to relax.

The theater starts to fill, and Barbara reluctantly puts away her phone. I rack my brain for something to encourage her. She did want to come. She must be proud of Alyssa. There must be something there.

"Your daughter really is amazing," I try.

She shrugs.

Fine, she's shrugging now, but she's not going to manage to keep that up. No one could watch Alyssa perform and come away from it apathetic.

The lights go down, and the play begins. Stanley joins his friend Mitch and calls up to the apartment above.

Barbara is already in another world, leaning back in her chair, staring at her fingernails like they are the most fascinating thing she's ever seen.

It doesn't get any better.

The whole damn play, Barbara can't even muster the energy to fake interest. Even when Alyssa is on stage. Even in the last scene, where Alyssa's character is carted off to a mental institution.

Even during the final bow.

The lights go on and I look to Barbara for some kind of reaction.

There's nothing on her face. Not excitement or pride or even a hint of happiness.

Nothing.

I pull out my phone and text Alyssa. "You were great. Meet me at the restaurant across the street in twenty minutes? I know you need to get dressed."

I lead Barbara toward the lounge. She looks at the closed bar longingly.

I'm tempted to spill that we're going someplace with alcohol, but I keep it to myself.

* * *

The door swingsopen and Alyssa steps into the restaurant.

She scans the restaurant. Her eyes meet mine. For that split second, my tense back relaxes and the weight on my chest lifts. She still loves me. She still wants this.

Then, her gaze moves over, towards her mother, and the short burst of excitement drops off her face.

"Mom."

Barbara stands to greet Alyssa. They stare at each other for a moment. Finally, Alyssa offers her hand and they shake.

Alyssa turns to me, her face tense.

I don't say anything, just pull her into a tight hug.

She squeezes me, lingering for a moment before pulling back.