opened into Maple Leaf Gardens and the post-hockey crowds decided to leave through her bedroom. First she tried the voice of reason. Then she yelled. Then she physically picked up the intruders and threw them out the door. But the door never stayed closed and they wouldn’t, any of them, leave her alone.
She woke up late with a splitting headache and an aching jaw, her mood not significantly better than when she’d gone to sleep. An antacid and an aspirin might have helped, but as she’d run out of both she settled for a mug of coffee so strong her tongue curled in protest.
“And why did I know it would be raining,” she growled, squinting out through the blinds at a gray and uninviting world. The sky looked low enough to touch.
The phone rang.
Vicki turned and scowled across the room at it. She didn’t have to answer to know it was her mother. She could feel mother vibes from where she stood.
“Not this morning, Mom. I’m just not up to it.”
Her head continued ringing long after the bell fell silent.
An hour later, it rang again.
An hour of conscious thought had done nothing to improve Vicki’s mood.
“I said no , Mom!” She slammed her fist down on the kitchen table. The phone rocked but continued to ring. “I don’t want to hear about your problems right now and I sure as shit don’t want to tell you about mine!” Her voice rose. “My personal life has suddenly collapsed. I don’t know what’s going on. Everything is falling apart. I can stand on my own. I can work as part of a team. I’ve proved that, haven’t I? Why isn’t that enough!”
It became a contest in volume and duration and Vicki had no intention of letting the phone win.
“Odds are good Celluci’s about to propose and this vampire I’m sleeping with—Oh, didn’t I tell you about Henry, Mom?—well he wants me as his . . . his . . . I don’t know what Henry wants. Can you deal with that, Mom? ’Cause I sure as shit can’t!”
She could feel herself trembling on the edge of hysteria, but she wouldn’t quit until the phone did.
“Celluci thinks I’m angry about the way dear old Dad walked out on you. Henry thinks he’s right. How about that, Mom? I’m being fucking double-teamed. You never warned me about something like this, did you, Mom? And we never, ever discuss Daddy!”
The last word echoed around a silent apartment and seemed to take a very long time to fade.
With a trembling finger, Vicki slid her glasses back up her nose. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mom. I promise.”
An hour later, the phone rang again.
Vicki turned on the answering machine and went for a walk in the rain.
When she got back, late that evening, there were seven messages waiting. She wiped the tape without listening to any of them.
The phone rang.
Vicki paused, one foot into the shower, sighed, and got back into her robe. Welcome to Monday.
“Coming, Mom.” No point putting it off. She’d have to face the music sooner or later and it might as well be sooner.
Today things didn’t seem so bad. Yesterday was an embarrassing memory of self-indulgence. Tomorrow, well, she’d deal with tomorrow when it arrived.
She dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and scooped up the receiver. “Hi, Mom. Sorry about yesterday.”
“Is this Victoria Nelson?”
Her ears grew hot. It was an elderly woman’s voice, strained and tight and most definitely not her mother. Let’s make a great impression on a potential client there, Vicki. “Uh, yes.”
“This is Mrs. Shaw. Mrs. Elsa Shaw. I work with your mother. We met last September . . . ?”
“I remember.” Vicki winced. Mom must really be pissed if she’s getting coworkers to call. This is going to cost me at least a visit.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”
“Bad news?” Oh, God, don’t let her have caught the early train to Toronto. That’s all I need right now.
“Your mother hasn’t been feeling well lately, and, well, she came into work this