Page 11

11

JOY

Two hours later, with a stomach full of eggs and cocoa, I stood in my wrecked bedroom. The wooden floors were swollen and warped from the rain. The rubble was everywhere.

I’d called the insurance company and sent them photos I’d taken with my phone. But I wasn’t the only customer in the area who had a storm claim, so they said they’d have an adjuster come out in two or three days. Sooner, if possible.

“Two or three days,” I muttered, staring at my flipped bed.

I remembered how Wes had just lifted it and flung it onto its side. I knew firsthand he had solid muscles, but working a ranch sure made him strong.

My inner walls clenched remembering the night before. I was sore, and for a day or two, I wasn’t going to forget what we’d done. All because of the storm. Because of the adrenaline.

Because… I’d wanted Wes, and last night there was nothing that was going to stop me from having him. Yup, a storm brought out my inner slut.

It also brought down the ceiling and my roof.

The drywall was broken like eggshells all over everything. Insulation was a fluffy but sodden mound in the middle of the floor. Like sad cotton candy. I looked up into the hole in the ceiling. I could see even more insulation and the framing in the crawl space. I could see past that and outside. Plus, there was the tree limb. It was in the crawl space area and small branches had come through the ceiling and had fallen haphazardly on my bedroom floor.

“I’ve always wanted a skylight,” I said to myself, seeing the blue sky through the hole in the roof. No. That couldn’t stay. I had a tarp in the garage I could put over the hole until the repairs could be made.

My cell rang. I grabbed it, hoping it was the insurance adjustor telling me someone could come out today to at least patch the roof.

“Crap.” I answered the call because I never knew what my mom’s emotional state would be. She often needed me to talk her off some ledge or other, and not always metaphorically speaking. The woman suffered from depression. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi sweetheart.”

I could hear the strain of stress in her voice.

Oh boy.

“What’s up?”

Something was always going on. Whether it was drama between her and her sisters or her boss at work or that she’d seen my dad in town, there was always something that triggered my mom.

“Oh, honey, you won’t believe what happened. My air conditioner you bought me got damaged during the storm last night.”

“Oh no!”

This was Montana. Air conditioners were rare because it didn’t get all that hot. Maybe a week of uncomfortable temperatures, but it cooled down at night. But I’d bought my mom a unit a few years ago because her allergies made her so miserable, and she was having trouble sleeping. Depressed people who don’t get their sleep could go downhill fast. I knew cool, filtered air definitely helped with allergies and sleep.

“It’s terrible! I don’t know what to do. Do you think the insurance will cover it because of the storm?”

I sighed, looking at my own insurance nightmare. “Yes, but the deductible probably won’t be worth it.”

“Oh.” She sounded depressed.

Fuck it. I didn’t have the money, but I’d figure it out. “Mom, call an HVAC company to come out and take care of it.”

“I don’t think I can afford it if the insurance won’t pay,” my mom said weakly.

She worked part-time as a receptionist at an accountant’s office. Before my parents divorced, she’d been a stay-at-home mom. Baked cookies, did PTA. Relied on my dad for everything. It was their dynamic. After the divorce, even after all these years, she never really recovered. Never could handle taking care of herself–emotionally or financially. She cried. She spiraled. She tried–she really did. She’d seem to get her life together, but then something would set her back, and it would all fall apart again.

She couldn’t problem-solve for herself–her emotional state just made her shut down when things got complicated or confusing or required any effort.

I’ve been the one taking care of her ever since my dad divorced her.

She depended on me.

I knew depression didn’t make sense. Mom didn’t understand that she was supposed to be the grown-up. The parent.

As a teenager, I’d had to be the one whose shoulder she cried on. Who listened to her rant about Dad one minute, then cry about how she still loved him the next. I was the one who paid the bills. Who set a budget. Who got a job at the diner after school to bring in more money, then later at Cody’s Saloon, when she’d lose another job because she couldn’t get out of bed.

Over the years, nothing had changed. She was still depressed. Still needed me to rescue her.

“Doesn’t Clyde offer you more hours?” I asked, referring to her current boss. “You know he’s had a crush on you for years. How many times has he asked you out? He’d do anything for you.”

“More hours?”

“Yes. More hours–to cover the cost of the air conditioner.”

“Your father was supposed to–”

I sighed. Dad again. God. My parents had been embroiled in a years’ long custody and child support battle over me, which finally ended when I turned eighteen, and he moved to Missoula.

“Dad left a long time ago. He’s never going to pay that child support he owes you. Get Clyde to give you more hours. Or better yet, tell him yes to a date and let him take you out to dinner.” I grinned thinking about her out on a date.

She sighed. “I’m too old and–”

“You are not. Clyde wouldn’t ask you over and over if he wasn’t interested. In you. ”

“Yes. You’re probably right. I’ll see. No matter what, I just don’t think I’ll be able to replace it until the first of the month, and it’s been so hot.”

“I know, Mom,” I said brightly. “A tree fell on my roof last night, and there’s a gaping hole in my ceiling right now.”

My mom gasped.

Oops.

This was why I didn’t want to tell her. She’d go into full-bore trauma and drama about it when it really wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

“Joy! Sweetheart, are you okay? That’s awful! Did you call the fire department? What are you going to do? Oh no. This is horrible.”

“It’s not horrible, Mom. I figure it’s an adventure. It will be like camping in my own house for a while until I can get it repaired. I was just telling myself I always wanted a skylight.”

My mom gave another horrified gasp. “Joy, you can’t stay there. Sweetheart, it’s not safe. And–oh God–you’re probably going to get mold!” she wailed. “Was there water damage? Mold can cause all kinds of health problems. Oh, this is a nightmare.” In my mind’s eye, I could see my mom pacing in her kitchen, wringing her hands over this. “Should I come over and help?”

“No,” I said quickly. The last thing I needed was my rain cloud of a mom over here “helping.”

“I’ve got it handled,” I reassured. “The insurance will cover the repairs. Don’t worry about me. You worry about calling the HVAC guys, okay?”

“Oh. Well, maybe,” she said.

She wasn’t going to call them or say yes to Clyde. She was just going to suffer and drive me crazy talking about how she couldn’t sleep at night without the AC.

Gah. But I didn’t have the mental energy to fix this for her right now. I needed to stay positive for myself. I had a damaged pottery order to remake. And I needed to figure out how to at least make my bedroom safe from the elements until the insurance adjusters got here in a few days.

“I gotta run, Mom. Love you!”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Okay, sweetheart. I love you.”

I hung up and sighed. It killed me when my mom got depressed, but I didn’t have any energy left to rescue her today.

I was too busy rescuing myself.

I was really short on cash this month. I’d anticipated the money for that shipment of pottery that broke. Now, I’d have to spend time remaking it all when the time could have been used on making new things. I had my own house to fix, and that wasn’t going to be cheap either.

But on the bright side, my pottery studio in my garage had no damage. I could still throw clay. My business could still run.

I was lucky, truly.

Plus, my living room was undamaged, and my couch was really comfortable. Since there was no way I was staying with my mom–and her too-hot house, I’d be just fine.

I could always get my part-time job at Cody’s back. I’d worked there for years when I was getting my business up and running but quit when I was finally making it.

It would be fun. Seeing familiar faces at the bar again. Working late nights.

I needed to get out more, and this was a great way to do it. Right?