Читать книгу The Pink Sneakers Club - Christian Jr. Bertoni - Страница 8

I got home later that night after dropping off Kaye. I entered the house through the garage, turned on the lights and just stood in the middle of the kitchen. As usual my house was quiet. A few lights were on for me, dinner on the counter and a note on the fridge.

Honey, going out with Andrew, will be home tomorrow morning. Dinner’s ready just warm it up in the oven. Love, Mom.

For my mother it was a typical Thursday as for me, it was anything but. Tonight I really needed my mom to be home. I crumpled up the note and threw it in the sink. I unwrapped the tinfoil and stared at my dinner. Fish and rice. Pescados y arroz. I took a year of Spanish and have never been able to remember a single thing, but now I remember how to say fish and rice. Funny what the mind holds onto. I let out a heavy sigh. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like my mind was going in a million different directions and there was no rest stop.

I had already left a dozen messages for my mom since this afternoon. She never called me back.

I called her again. Voicemail.

Redial. Voicemail.

Again I pressed redial. Again it went straight to voicemail. I sat down on the kitchen floor with my back against the refrigerator and cried.