Page 38 of Shane
So I text.
Me: Are you awake?
Shane: Hey, beautiful.
Me: Do you know?
Shane: …
There’s a long pause as the three dots in the text message window pulse, then disappear, and then pulse again.
Shane: Yes, I know.
I immediately press the call button so I can speak to him directly. I don’t want to have the rest of this conversation via text.
“Hey,” Shane's voice is casual when he picks up, but I get straight to the point.
“You have to talk your mother into not coming here for Thanksgiving dinner,” I say, forgoing any pleasantries.
There’s a pause on the other end. “And how would I do that?”
“Use your charming personality.”
“You think I’m charming?” I can hear his smile through the phone.
“Shane, this is serious. You can’t tell me that you’re completely unaffected by this news. Did you know about this before we came home?”
“Of course not.”
“You realize she’s trying to move you both into my house?”
Shane's tone shifts, a hint of defensiveness creeping in.“The she you’re referring tois my mother, and she’s not trying to do anything. It was your father’s big idea for us to move there.”
“They barely know each other.”
“That’s true but–”
I don’t think through the next words that come from my mouth. I just blurt them out. “Are y’all in financial trouble or something?”
“What did you say?” his voice is tight.
I feel a lump form in my throat, but there’s no benefit to anyone for me to pull punches. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m wondering why your mother would move herself and her son into a stranger’s home after only a few months of dating.”
“Are you calling my mom a gold digger? Because that sounds super fucking judgmental even for you.”
“Even for me?!” My frustration boils over. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your father owns a couple of pizza spots. He’s no Bill Gates.”
“I didn’t say he was but–”
“We’re not broke, Kennedy, and my mother would never sell herself for a couple of coins.”
“Okay, now you’re just putting words in my mouth. I never said she was selling herself.”
“My mom has a great job,” he continues, clearly upset with me. “An honest job. She doesn’t need to find some geriatric sugar daddy to pay our bills. She never did, and she never will.”
“Don’t call my father a sugar daddy. He’s not some rich, old man.”