Page 18 of Sweeter than Honey

“Look, mama!” he says. “I’m a pony!”

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s a quarter past. I’m already late.

With a final, frustrated sigh, I pull my phone out of my pocket. The first call goes to voicemail. I try again. After the third ring, I hear my mother’s voice crackling through.

“Hello?”

“Hi, mom, it’s me…”

“Lily?”

“Yes, mom. I just called-”

“Did you call just now?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Sorry, honey. I thought you were a telemarketer. You know, there are so many of them now. I heard on the radio that they like to take advantage of older people…”

“I’m not a telemarketer, mom. I’m calling because I’m already fifteen minutes late. Are you close by? You know I can’t leave Eli alone, and I need to get to work…”

“Oh! Shoot, is it Tuesday?”

Anxiety and annoyance twist together in my stomach. “Yes, mom, it’s Tuesday. You’re supposed to come and watch Eli. How fast can you get here?”

“Oh that’s right…well, honey, my hip has been really bothering me today, and I just don’t know if I can make it on the bus…”

I inhale deeply. Somehow, her hip always seems to be acting up when there’s a marathon ofDays of Our Liveson TV.

“That’s ok, mom, I can bring Eli over to you.”

“Um, I don’t think that’s such a good idea, sweetheart. You know, I’m not really supposed to have kids in my apartment on the new floor of the residence. There’s only older people here. It’s not really a proper place for a child.”

Eli is back on the ground, slipping around under the table in a pile of fruit loops.

“What am I supposed to do, mom? I’m already late for work, and I can’t just leave Eli here.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the line. “Well…you could trying calling Dylan. I’m sure he would love to see Eli.”

“I’mnotcalling Dylan, mom. I’m perfectly capable of looking after Eli on my own.”

“Are you, honey?” she says, an I-told-you-so apparent in her tone. “You know, it’s much easier to parent with two. Sometimes your father and I would have disagreements, bless his soul, but wealwaysmade it work for you and your sister. Dylan is a sweet boy, I don’t know why you-”

I take the phone from my ear and end the call. I can’t bear to listen to one more second of her talking about how wonderful Dylan is.

“Mama, I’m a loop-loop!” Eli says. He gazes up proudly from his spot under the table. Tiny pieces of colourful cereal are stuck in his hair.

I bend down to pull them out.

“You’ve got to look presentable, Eli,” I say, resigned. “You’re coming to the hotel with me today.”

I’ve never brought Eli to work with me, and I’m not very happy to be starting now. This summer has been the busiest I’ve ever experienced at the hotel, and I’m completely buried with work.

Instead of going through the main entrance, I go around the alleyway behind the hotel. There’s an emergency staircase that reaches every floor. My claustrophobia isn’t as bad in the staircase as on the elevator, and there’s less of a chance that someone will spot Eli.

“Lotsa stairs!” he comments, hopping up each one. “One, two, three…”

“Let’s hurry up, honey,” I say, taking him by the hand. “Mama’s already very late to work.”