February 2, 2011
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“Hi, Mom.”

“Estella, honey! It’s great to hear your voice!”

“Your’s too, mom. Um, how’s Mrs. Wilson?”

“She died yesterday.” Mom’s voice sounds tired.

“Oh. How did she, uh, die?”

“She just went in her sleep, real peaceful like.”

“That’s good. Listen, mom, I gotta go. Call waiting. I love you.”

“Love you too suga.” She hangs up. I answer the phone to dad’s voice.

“Hello munchkin!”

“Hi dad.”

“How’s my little bucket of love doing?”

“I’m fine dad. How are Amelia and MT doing?”

“Well, bunny, MT is your momma’s kid--”

“So? He’s my brother too.”

“I wasn’t done. MT is fine, but he’s just like your mother, headstrong and creative and Amelia tells me he is surrounded like men, just like your mama always was. But they’re both fine... How’s your mother doing? Has she asked about me?” He’s trying to sound nonchalant about it.

“Mom’s fine. She hasn’t asked about you--but we didn’t talk long. Sorry though.”

“What do you have to be sorry about? It’s not like I care if that stupid w**** asked about me. I just wanted to make sure she didn’t want any money. She lives on money from men.” He mumbled that last part.

“Bye dad.”

“It was just a joke, pudding.”

“I know dad. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He’s appeased. I’m not. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye dad.” I hang up.
“That was screwed up, you know,” A.R.T. tells me.
“I know.”
“You want some Chick-Fil-A?”
“Yea. Let’s go.”

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