Venus [BARRETT]

FIVE

A PAISLEY PATTERNED SITUATION

☼

Before we left for the gig, I sat on the stool beside the phone and called my Mum. I knew she was probably still unwell, and calling her might not be the best help, but I needed to know for myself how she'd been doing.

I positioned the phone between my ear and my shoulder and used both my hands to pull on my flat black shoes, waiting to hear a voice, and not just the empty dial-tone.

"Hello?"

"Hey Dad," I said, "how's everything? How's Mum?"

There was a muffled sound on his side of the phone, before he answered. "I'm fine, darling. Your mother's a little better—" he paused for a second, before giving a nervous chuckle. "—She's convinced you've gotten married."

I frowned in confusion. "Huh?"

"The letter you sent a few days ago? She's convinced you were trying to send her clues that you got married. She's been taking it apart and looking for more."

I sighed, feeling my stomach drop. This was the opposite of what I wanted to hear. "Why would I. . . Dad, she's got to get some real help."

"No, no, no," my father insisted, "she's fine where she is. She could be a whole lot worse. I'm sure it would help if you moved back in though, Myra."

". . .I've got my job and the apartment. And Tom." There was silence on the other end. "You know I'd love to, Dad. But I can't."

There was some muffling on his side of the phone before dad answered. "Yes, well, it would be nice if we could actually meet him, you know."

Tom emerged from the bedroom, ready to go, and stood watching me on the phone. He was adjusting the watch on his wrist and walking over to the door, indicating that we should hurry up with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Yeah, definitely soon Dad." It pained me to hang up without speaking to Mum, but I couldn't let Tom wait. "Hey, I've got to get going. I might call you soon, again, okay?"

"Okay," Dad replied and simply hung up.

The absence of an 'I love you' stung a little. I missed being told that.

Hanging the phone back on the wall, I ran my hands through my hair to smooth it out a bit more before joining Tom at the door.

"What was that about?" He asked me, opening the door for us.

"Just called to ask about Mum, wanted to see how she was." I said, walking beside him down the hallway to the elevator. "Got Dad instead, who asked me to. . . come home again."

Tom was silent, folding his arms across his chest.

"And, they'd really like to meet you, you know." I laughed a little, trying to be light-hearted despite the pit inside my stomach. "We've been putting it off for a few years, now."

"That would just make me uncomfortable," he explained — his favourite excuse. "I don't know how to talk to your parents, I don't even know how to talk to my own. It'd be weird, y'know?"