Keep The LIne

A Slice of A Day

“Oh My God!” She tapped her index finger several quick times against the glass window of the driver’s side ford tarus. “That’s the guy.” Like I’m supposed know. Before I can respond, she answers, in that quick speed never take a breath until you’ve spit out five sentences delivery. You know, teenagers and young adults all have it. Listening makes me gasp for the air I know she must need.

“Three shots, skinny, no foam latte. You know!” She gives me a quick glance. “I told you about him yesterday. The creepy guy?”

It’s been a long day. I search my memory. I sorta recall some story, told in that breathless tone, about some guy who gave her the creeps. Was I only half listening to her then? I laughed, a sort of repressed laugh, which came out like a snort.

“What?”

Should I tell her? It’s funny to me; how young people talk. How she knows this man by the drinks he orders at her job?

I smile. “I love you.” I know, it’s so off topic, but she flashes me a quick smile.

“I know.” She senses my weakness. My motherly warmness, and she dives in. “So, do you love me enough to pay my Visa bill?”

“Um.” I hesitate, trying to grope for a sarcastic response.

“Mom...” Again, theirs that smile, the one with the dimples. “I’ll pay you back.” And after a small pause. “I’m just not sure when.”

She’s bought me lunch several times lately and I can’t resist. It must be tough going to school AND working. When I was a sophomore in college, I just went to school. I did not have to work thirty to forty hours a week. I admire her efforts. “Okay.”

She smiles. Now it’s her turn. “I love you.”