Page 28 of Heartsong
That soft spot had gotten her Captain, and he was something good. She’d found him one afternoon, mewling behind a dumpster and abandoned by his mama. He’d had a gunky eye and a limp but no fear. Anna had known she couldn’t afford to treat and feed a cat; at the time, she could hardly afford to feed herself. But she hadn’t been able to leave him at the clinic. What if they decided it was easier to put him to sleep than fix him? What if, like so many black cats, he didn’t get adopted? She picked him up after a few days of treatment and added his care to her already eye-watering credit bill.
Maybe that soft spot was right about Frey, too. Somehow.
Notas a soulmate, of course. But maybe she could accept that this was the universe giving her a chance to help someone out. Helping him could be the next step in getting herself on the path of building a life and a self she could be proud of.
She liked the thought of that.
After splurging on a ride home, it took three trips to get everything she’d bought up to her top-floor apartment, but that wasn’t what killed her mood. Nor was it her sore legs or the sweat slicking down her spine under her shirt.
As she huffed and puffed over a glass of water, Anna checked her phone.
A text message from her mother greeted her, sending her mood into a tailspin.
The words sat there glaring at her, and Anna put the phone down to avoid them. She put away the groceries, put Frey’s new clothes in the wash, and mopped the floor.
When she looked again, there was another message.
Her mom only called herbabywhen she wanted something.
It’d been a bit of a shock when, after turning twenty-one over seven years ago, Shannon had taken to playing nice with Anna. Sometimes. After that speech before going off to college about how Anna had ruined Shannon’s life and dreams and tied her down blah blah, she’d thought they wouldn’t speak ever again.
For a year, they hadn’t.
Her freshman year of college, Anna spent every weekend, every holiday in the dorms. She didn’t hear from nor contact her mother. After a year, she’d steeled herself to never having contact again.
Shannon had finally texted her happy birthday her sophomore year, and Anna…well, it was her mom. Some part of her hated it, but she’d texted back.
Since then, she’d seen Shannon a handful of times. Spent one awkward Thanksgiving with her and a boyfriend. Anna at least kept tabs on her mom’s current address, and they exchanged pleasantries now and again.
The texts sitting on her phone now weren’t pleasantries, though.
No, since Anna had entered the workforce, Shannon had seen another source of support.
Grinding her back teeth, Anna took up her phone and tapped out a quick reply.
She busied herself with more chores, cleaning out the litter box, putting the clothes in the dryer, starting dinner, before she let herself check the phone again.
Anna knew what, but she always wanted the words.
They both knew that wasn’t true. If it was, Anna wouldn’t keep a small fund just for these texts. Squirreling away a little money for her mom felt like a dirty secret; she didn’t like thinking about it to herself, and she’d never admit it to her mom.
Shannon would berate her, claiming she was cruel to dole it out little by little rather than just giving it to her in her time of need. Except, that money would be gone in a blink and she’d always need more. Always. Anna could transfer everything she had, what little there was, and it wouldn’t be enough.
Nothing ever was for Shannon. Her mom was out there chasing something—what, Anna didn’t know. Maybe it was why she dated men in their fifties who still went byChaz. Whatever her mom was after, it consumed everything around her. She didn’t see or didn’t care about what she broke to get it.
That’s what Anna and the therapist she saw during college managed to work out, at least.
The therapist had had quite a bit to say about why Anna allowed Shannon to hang around in her life, most of which Anna hadn’t wanted to hear then and didn’t want to think about now.
She ground her teeth in annoyance as she waited for a number.
Anna rolled her eyes.
Tapping through her apps, Anna went through the familiar motions of transferring her mom money while ignoring the litany of messages thanking her and saying to send only what she could. She knew they really meantsend as much as possible, but Anna stuck to the $100.
Saying a quick goodbye, she laid her phone facedown on the dining table and scrubbed her hands over her face. An icky feeling clung to her skin, making her consider a shower.
She wanted to go back to that morning, the happiness of doing something nice for someone.
