Page 3 of And Everything In Between

Paige squinted. Suspicious. She was always suspicious when her mother came around. The conversation was always going to go one or two ways, maybe both if she was lucky.

“I’m not allergic to joy. I’m focused. Big difference.”

Her momma’s mouth curled into a mischievous grin as she waved the envelope like a wand. Absolutely nothing but a vacation on a faraway island with no responsibilities would entice Paige, but she’d hear her mother out.

“I won these tickets at work to the Idle Hands car show over at the fairgrounds this weekend. I thought maybe you could stop babysitting grown folks for one day and go be young and sprung.” There was conversationone,dating.

Paige folded her arms and shook her head.

“I’m busy, Ma, too busy to be acting young and sprung.”

She hoped her mother would leave the conversation there, because she wasn’t making any promises. She wanted to work. She wanted to mind her business. She wanted to coast until she felt like putting the pedal to the metal. Not worry about being young and sprung. Instead of answering her right away, Paige grabbed her blunt from outside and lit it again. She needed it to deal with her mother.

“Blasphemy, you’re always busy,” her momma snapped, snatching the blunt from Paige like she paid the light bill there. Myra knew her daughter too well. Paige had always been a fighter. For herself. For others. Like any Bishop, she lived up to her last name… stubborn, loyal, and half-crazy with it.

Myra hit the blunt again, slower this time, grounding herself like she was gearing up for battle. Her mouth tightened before the smoke even cleared.

“Busy being everybody’s backbone. Busy pouring into folks who don’t even notice you dry. You don’t listen for shit, Paige.”

Paige clenched her jaw. Bit down on the words she wanted to spit back. Because she had plenty.

“I’m fine. I’ve been fine. My focus is where it needs to be for now.”

Myra let out that knowing laugh, and it pissed her off.

The woman who fell apart after her brother died had the nerve to act like Paige didn't remember who cleaned it all up. She didn't have a childhood or a choice. Instead, she got silence,fetched wine coolers, and made sure the house still functioned. She hadn't even had a chance to grieve her brother.

Myra eventually found herself again. Started dancing in the kitchen and laughing too loud and reclaiming her joy. And Paige was glad about that. But the difference was that her break was temporary. Paige's weight had never been optional. And the sacrifices she made had never been acknowledged.

“I don’t want to keep having this conversation. I know I need to put myself first. I know I’m too beautiful to be single. I know my daddy ain’t my problem. I know, okay. I’m fine.”

What she didn't say was: I watched you fall apart. I had to grow up overnight. And I never got to stop. So please forgive me if your advice is a day late and a dollar short.

Once Myra came back from the ledge, she'd learned to lean on her daughter's strength, benefiting from Paige being bone dry, just like everyone else. So no, she didn't want advice from the same woman who'd let her carry it all.

“Fine?” she repeated, shaking her head. “Fine, is for white folks and liars, baby. And you ain’t neither.”

“I’m handling it.” Paige rolled her eyes snatching the blunt back. “And stop coming over here to smoke my weed, fuss, and dip.”

Her mom was right. She had been right for a while now. Paige needed to live for herself again. She would never tell her mother that she was right, ever. And knowing it and doing something about it were two different conversations. Where did you even start?

“Handling it doesn’t mean you’re happy, P. It means you’re surviving better than most. I’m telling you what I know. Stop trying to change the subject.”

She shoved the tickets across the counter and added, “Go. Put something on that makes you remember you got hips and aheartbeat. Laugh, flirt, drink something brown if you feel like it. Get some life back in you.”

Paige stared at the tickets like they might bite her. Her mother had never begged her like this. More suspicion rose in her mind.

“Momma, I’ve got Perry to worry about. His dialysis schedule is crazy until he gets his benefits and transportation. I got two audits coming up at the bank. Ashton needs me, I can’t up-”

Her momma cut her off with one look. That same look she gave her when Paige tried to talk back at sixteen. Ayou know better look, which made Paige shut up.

“Your daddy made his choices. You love him. I get that. But you gotta stop letting love be your prison.” Second conversation, her father.

Paige blinked hard. If she let those words sit too long, she might fold. Her mom was still pushing, and she wasn’t only speaking about her father. Her mother was always good at reading her like a book, but sometimes the worst thing about the truth was knowing it came from somebody who loved you enough to say it.

“Go,” her momma said, softer now. “I’m not saying you gotta go quit your job or act like you don’t have responsibilities. But you need to remember you’re still alive. A young woman with no kids. You should be living your best single life until someone comes along to change that. You don’t work this weekend, right?”

“No, Momma, I’m off but...”

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