Red Shoes, Black Coffee (Red & Black #2)

8 | Family time

Jed

On Fridays after work, I always head straight for Manhattan instead of coming back to Bronx as usual. During the weekends, I stay over with my parents and come back to my own little studio on Saturday evening. My apartment is not closer to my workplace than my parents' but I got it just recently and like to come back there after work. Finally, I have a place I can call mine. Renting a flat in New York City is hell and I couldn't afford anything more than Bronx, but nobody hears me complaining. I like the four hundred and fifty-two square feet of space I can call home. It feels good to have something I'm fully responsible for. It makes me realize I'm no longer in high school. 

It kind of makes me miss high school, too, but I'm never going to admit it out loud. 

Of course, I could always stay in my parents' apartment back in Manhattan. None of them has kicked me out. Finding my own place was my decision. Spending so much time with them together again... It made me think. I figured that after having lived apart for so long, they might need space. Having a nineteen-year-old with irregular work patterns who comes and goes unannounced surely didn't count as space. So I moved out. 

And as lonely as I sometimes feel sitting all by myself in my tiny living room area, it can also feel good. I am no longer a burden to anyone. I am my own person. I still live close enough to Mom to always be able to help her. But now that she has Dad... I am no longer the only one on whom the responsibility of caring for her rests. I work more now, yes, but I no longer need to juggle school and work. When I graduated from high school, I decided against going to college and stayed at Caffair instead. My plan can hardly be called ambitious, I know, but life in the New York City is expensive and I'm not a billionaire. The money I make working at Caffair is not a fortune but it's enough to sustain myself. I try to stay as free of my parents' financial support as I can. Mom's treatment isn't cheap and even though my Dad is some big cheese in his company right now, we can't afford to spend money like water. This was one of the reasons I chose not to go to college. Further education creates costs. I can't afford costs. And even though I wasn't a total zero at school, I never had the time to be a genius, too. This means a scholarship is also out of the picture. And this, in turn, means that I'm staying at Caffair with Carla.

End of my story.

I sigh, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. Driving a car around the New York City is an adventure of some sort. I try to avoid it whenever I can and so far, I've been doing well. Truth be told, I drive only during my weekend visits at my parents' place. On daily basis, I usually use the public transport, not wanting to waste gas. The car was my nineteen birthday gift, though, and I like seeing the smiles on my parents' faces whenever I pull over in front of their building, so I drive it.

Getting to my parents' place takes me half an hour. When I finally get out of the car in the parking lot, I look up and spot Mom in the window. I can't make out her face but I know she's smiling as she waves at me. A grin of my own stretches my lips as I wave back at her. I run over to the door and make my way up the stairs. The door opens before I can even knock on it, revealing Mom's smiling face.

"Hello, Jed." She welcomes me.

I take the bouquet of flowers I'd picked up on my way from behind my back and hand it to her. If it's possible, Mom's face brightens even more as she accepts the flowers. I take a step inside and she closes me in a hug that is surprisingly strong for a disabled, forty-year-old woman. I smile and hug her back, dropping my bag to the floor.

"Hi, Mom."

When she lets me go, I leave one arm wrapped around Mom's waist, supporting some of her weight. Mom closes the door and leads me further inside, to where Dad is waiting in the hall.