2020-08-18 - Stop Calling

"Yeah, I get it..."

Sparrow didn't get it. She didn't get any of it, not one word, but that was the easiest exit from an awful conversation, a dejected murmur to soften the disconnect, the call cut short without a proper goodbye. The bed creaked beneath her as she slumped forward, one hand braced against the mattress, the other hanging limply in front of her, phone still in hand. What just happened..?

"You have to stop calling, Mena."

Mom hadn't even bothered with hello. Just right into the inexplicable nonsense. It had been days since she'd called either of her parents! She'd been prepared to apologize for the distance, citing how busy she's been with a new job and friends' birthdays and getting ready for the semester to start. Where was this sudden desire for distance coming from?

"Your father and I can't afford to keep supporting you and those kids."

Those kids? Her roommates? That didn't make any sense! Most of Sparrow's financial problems came from a lack of roommates, not an excess. And one of those other kids was her brother, her mother's only son. Surely, she didn't mean him, but the alternative was just unthinkable. There was no way that her mom could possibly believe any of that bullshit from Friendzone or GoFundMe about all her numerous children. If anyone at all could be absolutely certain that Sparrow did not have a baker's dozen of kids, it would definitely be her mom. Right?

"You've made your choices, Mena, and you need to take responsibility for them."

Which decisions? Picking a place on Oak to move into last year? Okay, sure, the house was definitely a stretch for their budgets, but they'd managed well enough when there were four residents paying rent. She couldn't be held personally responsible for Monica deciding to move closer to her family again after her grandmother died or AJ opting to accept an opportunity to participate in an out-of-state study program for a semester or two. Neither was it her fault that the game shop burned down. What choice was she not taking responsibility for!?

"Or maybe you should ask those men of yours for help, mm? Isn't the one well-off?"

Sparrow reeled at that. Who'd been talking to her mom about her love life? Since when did mom believe her daughter needed saving by any man? And who was she seeing that was well-off? She hadn't yet mentioned Yule's unexpected visit to Zelie, and Corey never shared details like that with their parents. Maybe Rhys, with his ties to the casino? It didn't matter, not really. That was just the easiest detail to focus on, a distraction from all the weightier implications.

"We love you, Mena, but..."

She never thought her parents were those sorts of people, the kind that would apply a qualifier to otherwise unconditional love. It made it really difficult to feel that affection. Made it really difficult to not feel entirely alone with the house so quiet. It would be hours before Corey got home, and she'd be at work by then. Her thumb brushed over her phone screen, but she didn't wake it up. Who would she call? Who could she talk with about this? How could she even talk about this? It felt too big, too weird, a tight tangle in her chest creeping up her throat, pulling at her shoulders.

Pushing up with a sniffle, she tossed her phone onto the bed and started toward the bathroom. Best to just go wash it off, put on a perfect face, get on with her day.

Thinking about shit doesn't do anyone any good.