Page 22 of Living with Death

“Correct.”

“We have to change this,” I say. I grab my phone from the coffee table and pull up the pizza app. “Veggie okay with you?”

“Get what you like.”

I shrug and finish the order. My phone rings just as I hit done.

Mother.

Shit.

“Hello.”

“Why haven't you called your mother? I've been worried sick, thinking you were stuck in a ditch somewhere.”

I wince, glancing over at Azrael. “Well, I was, but I'm fine.”

“What?” she says.

“I got into an accident on my bike, but I'm okay. Just have a mild head injury. I stayed in the hospital overnight…”

“The hospital?” she screeches.

“It's my mom,” I mouth to Azrael. I point to the other room and walk out of the living room.

“I'm coming over.”

“No!” I say a little too loud.

“No?” she questions. “Why not?”

“Because… I'm in my pajamas, lying on the couch. I just ordered pizza. I'm fine.”

“Pizza? Did you get all vegetables? Did you get the thin crust?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, Mother.”

“I know you're rolling your eyes, but I only try to ensure you take care of yourself.” I hear her dog yapping in the background.

“You're not making sure I'm taking care of myself; you're making sure I don't get fat.”

“Well, that, too,” she says. “Hush, Penny,” she says to the dog.

“This has been another great conversation, Mom, but I've got to go.”

“Why? We haven't spoken in days. I want to catch up. What's going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Why not? You're a young woman. Why aren't you dating? Am I ever going to get grandkids? Honestly, Mabel, you're like a hermit.”

“The pizza's here. I'll call you back later.”

I hear her protest before I hang up. I exhale, looking up at the ceiling. I walk back into the low-lit living room and toss my phone onto the sofa.

“Why didn't you want your mom here?”

I narrow my eyes. “Privacy, remember?”

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