My questions don’t stop all weekend and I decide if I’m in fact going to die on Saturday, then I’m not going to be spending any more time working. I haven’t taken a single holiday since I started working for Nanbrook & Associates and that isn’t right. If I’m going to die, then I’m going to be well rested.
I stay in my pajamas all weekend and ignore every call. I’m sure all of them are for Mom, but in case one is for me, I ignore it. I don’t feel like talking. Mom picks this weekend to run her feet off working and I don’t see her once. Although I do feel guilty that I’ve missed finding time to spend with her.
I try to write down some words to her, however I find I don’t know what to say. Even writing something to Dana doesn’t seem right. If they get a letter from me, then they’ll know I have seen this coming. How can I explain that to them? How can I explain about my dreams?
When I first met Dana, she had been heavily Christian and her favorite book to read, or at least try to read when we were six, had been the Bible. I had mentioned to her early on about seeing the future and she told me that was evil, that it’s impossible and I couldn’t be her friend if I was evil. I was too afraid to tell her that I hadn’t been lying when I said that and I learned to keep the truth to myself. Dana isn’t very religious anymore, yet deep down, I’m still afraid that she’ll think I’m a freak; that she’ll reject me. Even if I did tell her now, it won’t really work, either.
I do trust her to eventually accept me, but I can imagine the questions I would get. One being, why have I kept it a secret for so long? If I’m going to be killed, do I want her thinking that I haven’t been able to trust her and that I’ve been keeping something from her? Do I want her wondering what else I kept from her? There isn’t anything else about myself that Dana doesn’t know, but I won’t be here to assure her of that. She’ll be alone with those fears and feelings of betrayal. She can’t ever know, not now. So every letter I begin, I get stuck on until I just give up. I can’t give Mom or Dana closure.
I pick up the phone downstairs while I wait for the toaster to pop up my bread and dial in Mom’s work number. She picks up straight away, usually I get her receptionist, but on a Sunday Mom must have to answer her own phone calls.
“You’ve reached the office of Ruth Holloway. Ruth speaking.”
“Hey, Mom.”
“Zoe, dear, is everything okay?”
I hear a rustling of pages and I easily picture Mom searching through manuscripts. Mom has never been able to put her full attention on just one thing, myself included. She’s always trying to do a million things at once.
“Everything is fine, Mom, I just wanted to ask you if we could do dinner this week.”
“This week? I’ve got four deadlines to collect this week, sweetie, and one of my authors is already dodging my calls which is not a good sign. If only they were all like Donna, she was an angel.”
Donna is Dana’s Mom. Mom works at a publishing house and it’s how I met Dana. Her Mom published a self-help book many years ago and Mom helped it happen. Dana and I would have play dates while they had meetings and then we ended up both starting at the same school. I think that’s why Dana is so in love with reading, she got the love from her Mom.
“It’s just, I wanted to see you for my birthday.” I hope I can at least get one last meal in with Mom. It feels wrong to not see her.
“Oh, of course, sweetie. I’m sorry. How about Saturday night?”
Saturday is the night of my birthday. What if I’ve been killed by then?
“I was thinking maybe Friday? Or Thursday?”
“I’ve got meetings every night this week. Are you planning a party for this Saturday? You know you can always have one at the house?”
“No.” I practically shout the word and I hear silence on the other end of the call as Mom stops shuffling pages for a moment, probably shocked by my sudden outburst. “Sorry, I just really don’t want a party.”
“Okay, then dinner it is. Did you want Dana and her family to join us?”
“No, I want it to just be the two of us. I’ll most likely spend the day with Dana.”
“All right, sweetie. I’ll pen it into my calendar. Now I have to go. I’m expecting a call.”
“Okay, bye, Mom.”
Mom hangs up and I put the phone down. I had hoped that would have gone better, though at least we have made plans. Now, I just have to make sure I’m alive long enough to go through with them.