“Hey mom.” I said, smiling happily as I sighed into the phone. Last time I had talked to my mother I was so mad at her, but now, I would do anything to be there with her. It's been 4 weeks since my dads accident, and he's still in the hospital and Allie still isn't back. I feel bad for Amber, because she's been spending more time around the house then she should be watching over me.
“Hey baby. Check up for dad?”
“Please.”
“The back surgery went good. They said that they're not sure whether it's going to work or not for a while, though. And he's in a therapy class at the hospital.”
“Mental or physical?”
“Physical, for his neck. After his back heals, he'll have to go for that too.”
“Oh, I'm sorry. It must cost a lot.”
“Not as much as you'd think. Insurance covered half of it, and his work payed for a little more, so we're really only paying for ¼ of the costs.”
“Well that's awesome.”
“It is. Is Michaela still there with you?”
“Of course. She's in the living room watching T.V., I think.”
“Okay, good. You girls having fun? Is Amber watching over you?”
“During the week she doesn't get here until 4:00, but she's here pretty much all day on the weekend, so yeah, I guess.”
“That's good. I don't want you girls there by yourself.”
“Well, Drake usually spends the night in the guest room if Amber needs to spend some extra time at the university.”
“Ellison, you guys better not be doing anything. He stays in the guest room, and you stay in your bedroom. Do I make myself clear?”
“That's what we've been doing since the beginning. Besides, we've been dating for a little over a year now.”
“I don't care, Ellie. You're still my little girl, and I don't want you coming back pregnant or anything.”
“I won't, mom. Gosh. Maybe you should be telling this to Drake.” I laughed.
“Is he there know? Would I be able to talk to him?”
“Uhm.. sure.” I walked to the guest room, where Drake was on the computer.
“It's my mother.” I said in a fake-disgusted tone, and handed the phone to him.
“Hello?” He said, very professional-like, gently pulling me down onto his lap.
They talked for a few minutes, with Drake “mhm”ing every now and then, with my head resting in the crook of his neck.
“Yes, Mrs. Jamaica. I'll take care of your little girl. Take care. Bye.” He pressed END and set the phone on the desk.
“Your mother's a creep.” He said.
I laughed, looking up at him and cupping his face in my hands. “I know.” I said, kissing him.
