Page 12 of Rise & Fall

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Page 12 of Rise & Fall

“I should get going,” Dexter says as he stands from the couch. “It was nice seeing you, Lori.” He looks down at my mom as he leans to kiss the top of her head. I’m sure she can see my eyes grow wide.

“Later, DJ,” he says to me as I smile and offer a small wave as he exits through the front door. I go to take his place on the couch.

“What was all that about?” I ask my mom as she smooths her hair down.

In all the months I’ve been back home, I’ve never seen Dexter kiss my mom. He’s very much a good dad to Em, and he’s very involved. But he and my mom have not been in a relationship since she had the baby. Said they just knew it wasn’t meant to be a forever kind of thing, despite having a kid.

“He wanted to check in on me and see if he could take Em for the weekend.” She leans over to the coffee table to grab her cup of tea.

“Well, that’s nice of him.” I don’t give it much more thought. I have my own life, she can still have hers.

“Yeah, I figured it would give you a break from Em for a few days.”

“Mom, I don’t need a break from Emsley,” I insist as I cross my legs. I know my mom thinks it’s a burden to take on caring for my little sister, but I don’t mind it.

“What about from me?” she asks, her green eyes clouded and grayed.

“Never, mama. That’s why I want to take on a new job so that I can have more time with you.” I lean to kiss her on her check. “Speaking of, I have a job interview in about an hour. You mind keeping an eye on screaming beauty over there?” I motion my head toward the hallway where Em can be heard jumping on her bed in excitement, and we both share a laugh.

“I think I can manage.” She smiles.

I miss my mom’s smile. It was always the warmest smile I’d ever seen. And I hate that this sickness has taken over her.

My mom had a transient ischemic attack, or what is otherwise known as a mini stroke, about eleven months ago. It wasn’t as bad as some strokes can be, but it brought up a lot of other underlying health issues. There’s the anemia, the high blood pressure (which doctors said could have been one of the reasons why the stroke happened in the first place), the thyroid problems, mood disorders, migraines, and the lack of sleep she’s been getting due to stress. It’s so much, and I’m sure all of this has been a product of Dad dying. If she had known of all of this beforehand, she did a very great job at hiding it because I had no idea. But the stroke brought it all to light and, in a very depressing way, I’m glad it happened, otherwise all of the other medical needs would have gone untreated even if it was just because she was being stubborn.

“Well then. I’m gonna go get ready and head out. Call me if you need anything.” I squeeze her hand before leaving her behind, heading toward my room to change my clothes.

I’d found an ad on the internet for a place nearby hiring a bartender. It’s a quaint little place called Booze & Beats, known in town for their “cheap, tasty drinks and poppin music”, so the advertisement mentioned.

I took a few mixology classes back in college just for fun and the money they’re offering will be great for only working nights. I’ll be able to stay home during the day for my family and still make good enough money to be independent. Besides, the nursing life is taking a toll on me, and I dread thinking about going to work for my next set of twelve hour shifts. I unequivocally need a change.

I slip into a pair of black skinny jeans, my rose gold Converse, and a white t-shirt. I pull my hair into a high ponytail and layer on some mascara. I’ve been doing less makeup and letting my scattering of freckles be the star of the show. I’ve grown to love them. I’ve only ever hid them because my ex said he wanted to see my face, not my freckles.

How did I miss all of the red flags with that one? I should have known better, but I never thought to take it to heart. Though I should have, maybe I could have prevented the heartbreak.

I look at myself in the mirror before deciding that I’m giving no more thought to that asshole. I take a deep breath and head out for my job interview.

“Thank you, Miss Young. We’ll see you tomorrow,” the owner says as he shakes my hand.

“Sounds good. Thank you so much.” I get up from the chair and head back out to the parking lot. I go to text my mom as soon as I get in the car to let her know that I got the job and that I start tomorrow. But while I go to pull up ‘Mama Bear’ in my contacts, I notice Nolan’s name right below it. I remember when he gave me his number earlier, the nerves I felt as I handed over my phone. The butterflies that took over as I watched his thick fingers type in his number. The smile he gave me when he told me to text him later.

Instead of clicking on my mom’s name, I click on his and attempt to type out a message.

Hey, it’s DJ. I wanted to let you know that Em and I are able to make it over for the playdate tomorrow. Just let me know the time and place and we’ll be there.

I drop my phone down into the cup holder and start my car to head back home.

The drive back home was pretty quiet. I listened to an early two-thousands playlist as I drove down the winding road from the bar, loving the view of the trees that line the road as the sun sets behind them.

Once I make it back, I park my car in the driveway of my mom’s and look down at my phone before getting out. It’s been thirty minutes and still no response from Nolan. I wonder if he put his number in right or if he’s busy doing something else…orsomeoneelse.

I don’t know why that thought turned my stomach sour. Of course a good looking man like him would be busy with another female. Maybe he’s married. I didn’t see a ring on his finger. But then again, I didn’t look too closely at his hands for proof.What am I even thinking?It literally doesn’t even matter.

I unbuckle myself to hop out of my car, hopeful that Mom hasn’t put Emsley down for bed just yet because I’m actually looking forward to reading her a bedtime story tonight. But when I walk through the front door, my mom is sitting at the kitchen table, and she looks over at me as she pulls her index finger to her mouth and shushes me gently. I nod in her direction understanding that Em is already sleeping. I kick off my shoes and walk over to my mom.

“I got the job,” I tell her.

“Good. I’m glad. I hope you like it. When will you quit working at the hospital?” She’s playing solitaire on her phone.




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