Page 37 of Making It Count
“Yes, Layne. I’m okay. I just got home from work.”
“Did you keep your clothes at the door in a bag like I asked, throw out your mask, and take a shower?”
“Yes, I did all of that as if I’d been exposed to radiation.”
“Mom, this is serious. You’re around people all day.”
“I wear a mask all day, too, and it hurts my ears like you wouldn’t believe. They’re red and raw back there. You’d be surprised; or maybe you wouldn’t be. People aren’t really coming inside much anymore. We have a sign on the door that requests that people only come in with a face covering. Not everyone does, but some do. Plus, some people just stop for gas, pay with a card outside, and go. We get a few people who need to pay in cash or who want to buy cigarettes, but that’s about it. And when I’m cleaning houses, the people are either gone, or they stay out of my way to be safe. I’m doing the best I can, Layne, but I’ve got to make money.”
“I know, Mom. I just worry about you.”
“I’m the mom; I worry. You’re twenty-two. You’re not supposed to worry about anything yet.”
Her phone vibrated, and she looked at the screen.
Shay: You still there?
Layne typed her response, telling Shay that she was on the phone with her mom and would call her after that.
“Mom, they sent an email out earlier today telling us that if we wanted to go home and do everything remotely for school, we could. They said it might become mandatory, but at least today, it’s optional.”
“You want to come home?”
“I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I am okay, Layne. I swear, you are just like your father, worrying all the time.”
Layne smiled at that remark. She loved it when her mom compared her to her father.
“If you want to come home, that would be fine with me. I can keep an eye on you. But you know I still have to work.”
“I get it. Maybe I can help out; clean some houses with you so you can get done faster, or do some for you. Less danger for you that way.”
“More danger,” her mom argued. “Layne, you’d be more at risk, which means more danger for me, the mom. Remember, you’re the kid in this scenario.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Mom.”
“No, you’re an adult now. But you’re still my kid, and I can handle my jobs just fine. If you want to come home, I’d be happy to have you here so that I can keep a better eye on you. And you can help around the house here, if you want, but you’re going to stay focused on school so that you don’t risk losing that internship. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” she said, defeated.
“Good. You can come home whenever you want. You know that.”
Layne stared down at the note on her desk and thought about what that would mean. If she left the dorm, there would be no more handwritten notes with little flowers on them from Shay. She wasn’t sure if they’d still text all the time or do their now-nightly calls. Layne felt relatively protected in her room. Being able to order snacks and have them delivered to the mailroom helped. She could pick them up and hurry back to her room. And yes, she felt guilty because someone had to deliver them to her, and someone in the mail room had to check them in, but she supposed it was better than her going to the store herself and possibly getting sick and bringing it back to the dorm with her or getting everyone else there sick. She hardly left her room otherwise, and when she did, she usually had one of the masks she’d been given by the university on her face, along with one of her bandanas on top of that. She was being smart and trying to take precautions here, but she worried so much about her mom, who was alone and had not one but two high-risk jobs.
“Hey,” Shay said when she picked up. “Is your mom okay?”
“Yeah, she was just checking in. I’m making her do that every day now.”
“You’re a good mom to your mom.” Shay laughed.
“She just said the same thing, basically,” Layne replied and moved to her bed to lie down. “It’s just risky, what she does, and I can’t help it because she needs to pay rent. I don’t have anything to contribute right now because I don’t work, and even when I get my internship paycheck, that’ll probably barely cover my own rent, food, and bills. I’ll try to help however I can, but I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to contribute.”
“You’re really worried about her, huh?”
“Yes. She’s going into people’s houses and cleaning them. I know she’s wearing gloves and a mask, but she also works at a gas station, and she told me people aren’t all covering their faces when they go in there. She has that plexiglass there, but there’s still that gap in it where people can talk, so germs will go through that, and I’m not there.”
“No, you’re here because you’re about to graduate.”