In Stone

3: "What if you were real?"

3: “What if you were real?”

Why was her mother calling her? Her mother rarely called her! Has someone died? Was her mother dying? It had to be bad news. It was only ever bad news when she called. There would be anger and yelling and pointless cussing and berating.

Caia almost didn't answer. Her finger hesitated over the phone, prepared to swipe it to answer or swipe it away. If she never picked up the phone, would things be better? If she didn't answer, she couldn't get yelled at. If she didn't listen, she couldn't hear the anger.

That hopeless optimist in Caia raised her ignorant head. Because what if it was good news? What if her mother was coming home for a visit? What if her mother wanted to ask Caia for forgiveness for all the things she had done and not done? What if this was the call Caia had been waiting for?

Knowing that was a possibility, how could she not pick up?

Her finger swiped to answer and she put the phone to her ear. She didn't even get the 'e' from 'hello' out of her mouth before her mother started.

“You lost your phone in your purse again, didn't you? I am a busy woman, Caia, I don't have time to wait a year for you to answer your damn phone.”

“I'm sorry, mother...” the meek, almost whispered response was automatic. As was the hope she felt crushing in her chest again. This wasn't the call she had been waiting for. It was never the call she had been waiting for.

“You better be. If you had answered when your phone first rang, this conversation could be over by now. But now look. Because you are too lazy to organize your life, I have to put mine on hold. That's selfish of you, Caia. I have a great deal of work to do, I don't have time to wait for you to find your phone.”

“I'm sorry, mother...” Caia hated herself.

Why did she pick up? She knew this was going to happen, it always happened, so why did she always answer? Why hadn't she answered sooner? If she had – as her mother said – the conversation could have been over by now. She wouldn't need to sit here listening to another lecture on her selfishness and irresponsibility.

It continued on in that vein for a while yet. Her mother never hesitated to tell Caia when she messed up, and she made sure that Caia never forgot it either. As her mother chastised, Caia could hear paperwork being shuffled. Wherever her mother was – Caia never knew, she traveled all over – it was still daytime and, therefor, work hours. Caia was a business call to her mother.

And while she talked, Caia made sure to apologize every time her mother paused to take a breath. It wasn't like her mother was accepting it, but if she didn't, she would hear about her inability to admit when she was wrong and her rudeness for not apologizing for being wrong.

Finally her mother took a deep breath that signified the end of the admonishment and Caia took a small breath of relief.

“You almost made me forget why I called you. You're an adult, Caia, I shouldn't need to give you such lectures. You should know better by now. I swear, you've never grown up. You're an enormous child. But that's not the point now. I have news.”

“What is it, mother?” Caia asked, hope blooming in her chest again. Her mother sounded almost cheerful – as cheerful as she got anyway. Did that mean it was good news after all?

“Yes, well my lawyer said that you should know. He wants to collect a character statement from you.”

“Of course, mother,” Caia said eagerly, jumping at the chance to please her. “What about?”