By some act of God, I miss the call. I'd left my iPhone on my desk while I went to pee before having to participate in a conference call, and came back to see the little message that I'd missed a call. I hope the "I Wanna Be Sedated" ringtone did not disturb the people in the cubicles around my office. And then while I was busy thinking "Wow! Dodged a bullet that time!" I get the jingly little notification that she'd left a message.
Must be some message.
I hesitate to listen to the message. It can't be anything good. The odds are completely against that. But I have a conference call and if I don't listen now, it could be more than an hour before I get another chance. I decide that I may as well let curiosity kill the cat.
I press the little icon on my grubby little touch screen and am almost immediately sorry that I do.
"Liza, it's Mom." Like I could ever be mistaken about THAT.
"I know you probably don't want to hear from me..."
WHAT????
I stop the message and start over just to make sure I'd heard the insanity correctly.
Yep. There it is again.
"Liza, it's Mom. I know you probably don't want to hear from me..."
Now why on God's green Earth would she start a message with those words?
I know why.
Despite all the effort to enjoy each other's company. And regardless of all the laughing and lovely gifts, and in contrast with all the reminiscing and deference and polite graciousness and peaceful, mature coexistence, and even with all the careful sidestepping of landmine issues, she believes I would not want to hear from her.
She must believe I hold a grudge against her.
Why would she think that?
I am almost too overwhelmed with visions of choking Bill to listen to the rest of the message.
But I do and then wish I hadn't.
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