Page 90 of Personal Foul

At first, it’s too weird, and I stand like a stick figure while the shop assistant remarks on the fit and color’s appropriateness for my figure and skin.

Dylan appears concerned, and I’m waiting for him to send me back to the dressing room for another dress. But then he says, “Charity, you hate it, don’t you?”

Blinking, I come to life. “Hmm? Oh.” I actually look at myself in the mirror. I’m wearing a yellow strapless dress of raw silk, which might look good on some people, but not me. Wrinkling my nose, I shake my head. “I look like I have jaundice.”

That makes Dylan chuckle, and the shop assistant smiles too. “I take it you don’t wear a lot of yellow.”

I shake my head, stepping off the platform to head for the changing room.

After that, I feel less like an object and more like a participant. I’m asked my opinion, rather than Dylan being asked first, and I get into it, posing and being silly when I come out to model the dress.

Dylan’s eyes dance, bright with humor and lust. I’ve seen that look often enough now to recognize it.

We eventually settle on a sapphire blue fit and flare dress that needs slight alterations which we’re assured will be done before we need to leave for Seattle on Friday.

As Dylan pays for everything, chatting amiably about our upcoming trip and the engagement party, my breath freezes in my chest. Suddenly it’s all very frighteningly real.

I mean, I knew the engagement party was next week. I agreed to go. And he’s casually mentioned leaving Friday after class and coming home Sunday.

But it just hit me that that means I’ll be spending two nights in his parents’ home.

I should find some time on Saturday morning to see my parents.

Unfortunately that thought does nothing to relieve the panic flowering in my chest. I haven’t even told my mom that I’ll be in the area next weekend. Granted, I just found out I’d be going to Seattle the night before last. But I could have called her yesterday before I came home with Dylan.

With everything going on, though, I haven’t wanted to bother her. But maybe she also hasn’t wanted to bother me. Ugh, I feel like a terrible daughter.

Note to self, call Mom this afternoon.

* * *

“Hey, sweetheart. I’m so sorry we still haven’t gotten your account situation figured out yet. I’m working on it, I promise. Hope said she’s been helping you out? And that you’ve been looking for a job?”

I smile at the sound of my mom’s voice, even though she sounds far more frazzled than I’ve ever heard. “I know you’re working on it, Mom. And yes, Hope and Eric helped me cover the rent for next month. And I’ve been babysitting for them a lot more, which they’re paying me for now. I’m looking for other things I can do that will fit around my class schedule as well, but at this point in the school year, all the on-campus jobs are filled. I am figuring things out, though. But what about you? How are you holding up?”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “Um, well, not that great.” Another sigh, followed by a soft, humorless chuckle. “I honestly don’t know how we are going to make it through this.”

My heart twists and my stomach sinks, and I make a soft sound of pain. “Oh, Mom. I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

She sniffs, and somehow that sounds even more broken than anything else. “Well, I’m looking for a job too. It’s hard, though. I haven’t worked in years, and my answer for why there’s such a gap in my résumé, isn’t exactly the kind of thing that makes people want to hire you. Well, I guess it’s not so much the reason for the gap, as it is the reason for why I need to return to work now.”

All I can do is make a sympathetic noise. I don’t even know what to say. A few moments of silence pass, growing more and more awkward. I hate this. I’ve never had this much trouble talking to my mom before.

Finally, I draw in a breath. “Um, so, I’m actually calling for a reason, not just to catch up. I am going to be in Seattle next weekend. And I thought maybe I could come see you on Saturday during the day.”

She sniffs again. “Just Saturday? That seems like a long drive just to see me for a couple of hours. You won’t be staying the night here?”

“Well, um, I started seeing this guy. And his sister’s engagement party is on Saturday night. So we’re driving to Seattle on Friday and staying at his parents’ house. But if I’m going to be so close, I wanted to see you too.”

She’s quiet for a beat, then she draws in a long breath. “There’s something I need to tell you. Your dad and I have separated. I’m still in the house. He’s staying in an apartment in Renton.”

I really shouldn’t be surprised. Dad’s been growing more distant. Mom hasn’t said anything, but Hope’s told me he’s been pushing her and Mom away too. Even so, the news hits me like a punch in the face. “Uh …”

“I’m really sorry,” she rushes to say. “It just happened last week. I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just didn’t know how to. You always have a room with me, though. No matter what happens. And I am sure your father would say the same, as long as he’s …”

My mind easily fills in the blank. As long as he’s not in prison.

I clear my throat, then clear my throat again. “Oh, um, okay. Yeah. That, uh, that makes sense.”

---