She Says

   I jump at my ringtone, wiping the drool from my cheek. The stack of papers on my desk almost collapses in my sudden motion. The phone continues to ring.

    "Diana! Answer the phone!" Oliver calls from his office.

    "Yes, sir!"

    I pick it up. "Hello, this is Diana at Peach State Paper Supply. How may I help you?" I stifle my yawn and attempt to rub the sleep from my eyes.

    "Diana?! Oh, thank heavens I finally got you."

    My yawn stops trying to come out. "Ma?"

    "Yes, dear. How are you doing?" I can hear the chickens in the background.

    "Just dandy, Mama. Sorry, but I'm at work right now." Oliver comes out of his office and leans against my door frame. He knows that I've been ignoring all her phone calls and texts for the past week. And that I was just napping after working through the night.

    "I know, hun. I'm sorry. I just needed to hear your voice. Can you spare a few minutes?"

    Oliver bores down at me, telling me my answer. "Of course, Ma.

    He smiles and returns to his office.

    "Well? How've you been?"

    "Good, Ma. Very busy. You'd think with us jacking up the prices of product, purchases would slow down." I grab the paper off the top of my stack, looking it over. "Not."

    "I'm so proud of you honey." I just take the compliment. I don't tell her that I sit behind a desk everyday, crunching numbers wishing I could do anything else. That I'm thinking of quitting just to have a break. That I'm a terrible person.

    "How're you, Mama?"

    "I'm tired, honey."

    I set the paper down and reach for the next one on the stack. "Well where's Pa? Shouldn't he be pulling his weight?" I don't hear anything from the other end, but I know we're still on the line. "Ma? Are you there?" I adjust the phone against my ear.

    "I'm here."

    I smile, leaning the phone on my shoulder. "I thought I lost you there for a second."

    "Diana." I freeze. That tone. Her voice. "Diana?"

    "What's wrong, Ma?" I stop what I'm doing.

    "Diana, your father passed away last week." I stare at my computer screen. A blur creeping into my vision. "That's why I've been trying to get a hold of you."

    The blur overtakes my sight, and I'm blind. But it doesn't register. I don't care. I don't have a care in the world.

    "Diana?" A name comes through the phone. My name. A stranger. My mother.

    "Diana?!" A man, Oliver, stands over me.

    I don't feel my body connect with the floor.

    I feel nothing.

    “I said pepper jack. You gave me gouda.” It takes everything I have not to jump on this girl. Some flight attendant she is. 

    “I remember that conversation, but we are temporarily out of pepper jack.” 

    I give her a look. “What do you mean 'temporarily'?”

    She shrugs. “Exactly what you think it means.” 

    “So by the end of my flight I will get pepper jack cheese on my sandwich that I paid fifteen dollars for? Someone is going to superman up here and deliver my sandwich with the cheese I paid for? Is that what ‘temporarily’ means?” 

    “No.”

    “That’s what I thought.” I glare at my sandwich, deciding. “I want my money back.” 

    Her eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

    “You heard me.” 

    “No.” Oliver’s voice butts in from behind me. “Don’t worry about it, miss. Run away while you can.” She smiles at him, and winks.

    “Walk away.” I second. She finally does. 

    I turn to Oliver, glaring a hole through his face. “You were gonna cause unnecessary issues.” 

    “Unnecessary?” 

    “Yes.” Oliver grabs his book from the seat pocket in front of him. “You know, I felt very special when you invited me to your father’s funeral,” 

    “Okay?” My eyebrows found their way to the sky. 

    “And now, I'm realizing there are two kinds of people who are grieving: The sweet kind, who are overly nice and polite.” I lean my seat back, already knowing where this is going. “And then there’s you. Mean and moody.” 

    “You’re funny.” 

    “I’m serious.” 

    I close my eyes. “Wake me up when we land.” 

    By the time we get into the taxi, only a few miles from my childhood home, it's already dark outside. I lean my head against the window, unable to sit up straight. My eyes won’t stay open. 

    “Diana?” 

    “What?” 

    “We’re here.”

    I sit up, slowly. “Already?” I can see the barn in the car's headlights as it enters the driveway. The house moves into the light, too. 

    “Already.” We get out, and Oliver pays the driver. I retrieve the bags. We walk to the door in the dark as the taxi leaves. I take a deep breath and try the knob, sighing when it isn't locked. Trying to be quiet, I take my time opening the door. Just as I hoped, Ma is in bed already. 

    Keeping my voice at a whisper, I say, “Are you okay crashing on the couch for right now? We don't have a spare bed.” 

    He smiles. “Of course.” 

    “Thank you for coming with me. Really.” 

    He shrugs. “I could never say no to you.” 

    “‘Night.” I walk toward my old bedroom. When I make it, I don’t turn on the light. I don’t need all those memories. 

   “Diana? Dear? Are you awake?” I sit up, rubbing my eyes. 

    “I am now.” I stand up. 

    The door cracks open. Mama pushes herself in. “Oh!” She runs to me and envelopes me in a hug. “Oh, honey, I missed you so much.” Forgetting Ma’s faults and what memories are waiting here for me, just seeing her helps with the anxiety. As long as I don’t think about her ‘baggage’.

    She pulls away. “Come here. I made breakfast.” 

    I follow her, already smelling the bacon, and see Oliver sitting at the kitchen table, his computer in front of him. His lean fingers click away faster than I can see. Even when he’s on vacation, he still needs some way to keep up with work. 

    He reaches a stopping point and grabs the mug sitting next to him. “Goodmorning, sunshine.” 

    I don’t fight my glare. “Yeah. You, too.” 

    He smiles at Ma. “And thank you for the drink, Mrs. Corton.” 

    “Oh, of course.” Pink reaches her cheeks. I roll my eyes. I am not completely oblivious to the fact that Oliver is very good looking, with his height at six foot two, and his sun-bleached hair from growing up on the Florida beach, his lean, strong figure from spending all his free time on his surfboard, and his face that manages to put Zac Efron to shame. And that smile… He knows how to use it to his advantage.

    And I know how to ignore it. 

    “What’d you make, Ma?” 

    “Biscuits and gravy with a side of bacon.” 

    I can’t help the groan. “If there’s one thing I missed about this place, it’s your cooking, Mama.” 

    She hands me a stack of three plates and silverware. “Set the table, would you, hun.” 

    “Yeah.” I set the table how Papa taught me to when I was old enough to carry a plate. When I get to Oliver's spot, I poke his keyboard. 

    He gives me a look that could wither. “Do you need something?” 

    “Yes, actually. Would you move your chunk of electricity so I can set the table, please?” 

    He stands, glaring, taking his computer with him. “My pleasure. I will put it away right now.” 

    “Thank you.” I set his place.

    Mama clears her throat when he leaves. “You two are an interesting couple.” 

    I laugh out loud. “Ma, we are not a couple. We could never be a couple.” I grab the napkins off the counter.

    “I see.” 

    I look over at her. “I mean, sure, he’s good looking,”

    She nods.

    “But we are just too different.” I shrug.

    We finish breakfast, all of us full. “Mama, that was heavenly.” 

    She smiles. “That’s because it’s been so long, hun.” She tries to make eye contact, but I avoid it. 

    “Yeah, that was just as good as she said, Mrs. Corton.” I look at him. I never said anything about my Ma’s food. 

    “Aw. Well thank you, Oliver.” She grabs our dishes. “The funeral is the day after tomorrow. So you have a few days to kill.” She sets them in the sink. “What did you want to do?” 

    Oliver looks at me. “Whatever Diana wants. I’m sure she knows all the fun things to do.” 

    I stare at the table. “I thought we might just stay in and binge Game of Thrones for the weekend.” I don’t relent to Oliver’s attempts to get me to look at him. 

    “Why?” Ma asks, curiosity in her tone.

    “I don’t know.” I shrug. “I just am not feeling well.” 

    I hear Ma’s footsteps, then feel her hand gently rest on my shoulder. “Honey,” she takes a seat next to me. “I think that’s grief. You really should get out, distract yourself.” I look at her. “There’s plenty of time for that later.” 

    I sigh, and nod. “You’re probably right.” 

    “You can drive.” I say, but Oliver shakes his head. 

    “I don’t know where I’m going.” He opens the passenger side door, climbing in. 

    I suppress my sigh. “Ma, are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

    She smiles, nodding, “Yes, dear. Go have fun.” 

    “Okay,” I open the door. “Bye.” She just waves. 

    We don’t exchange any words on our way down the driveway and onto the dirt road. I watch the road, but I don’t register what I’m looking at. I can’t. 

    “Diana.” 

    “What?” I squeeze the wheel. 

    “What’s up with you?” 

    I shake my head. “Nothing.” 

    “Diana, stop it. You can trust me. I have known you for five years. We were both interns when we met. I see you every day, even on the weekends when you refuse to go home so you can get a headstart on that week's mile high stack of papers that never lets up. I know you hate pineapple on your pizza, and that dry humor is what makes you laugh. I also know your tell.” I don’t take my eyes off the road. “And that you never mention your family or your hometown or anything to do with that. You shut down. Why?” 

    I shrug. 

    “Diana!” 

    This wakes me up. “What?” 

    “Thank you.” He looks out his window. 

    We’re in town. The small, ancient buildings that seem to have been here forever. Robin’s Grocery, that’s smaller than my bedroom. The Big Deal Furniture Outlet, where Ma and Pa bought the furniture for our house years before I arrived. Mary’s Lamb’s Bakery where Ma always got treats for Pa and I, giving us cookies and milk after we returned home from school or work. The places that contain things that gave me my childhood. And the people that took it. 

    “Pull over.” 

    “Why?” 

    “I want some ice cream.” Oliver’s demanding tone makes me naturally spin the wheel. 

    I turn off the ignition and climb out, meeting him on the sidewalk. “Have you been here?” he asks me, walking toward the door. 

    “Are you kidding? This was my one place of happiness growing up.” 

    The bell above the door chimes announcing our entrance to the lady behind the counter. No one is inside. But this is natural to me. I walk up to the counter and ring the bell sitting there. A knobbly old woman with kind eyes wadles out of the back. 

    A smile comes to my face, and I’m unable to stop it, even if I wanted to. 

    She is parallel with us at the counter and looks up. She smiles, staring blankly for a moment before recognizing the grinning face before her. “Diana?” 

    I nod. “Oh my gosh! Ms. Julie,” I reach over the counter and give her a hug. “I missed you so much.” 

    Her warmth wraps around me. “Oh, I missed you, too dear. It’s been so quiet without you all these years.” She pulls back, a gentle smile on her face. 

    “Ms. Julie,” I turn to Oliver. “This is my friend, Oliver.” 

    He holds out his hand but she walks around the counter, and pulls him into a hug. He towers over her, which makes it even sweeter. After a moment, he hugs her back. When she backs up, she pats his chest. “Oliver, we are huggers around here.”

    He smiles, showing his teeth. “I can tell.” 

    Ms. Julie looks at Oliver and walks over to me. “Diana, is he actually your boyfriend?” 

    I laugh. “Nope. Everyone seems to think so.” 

    Ms. Julie looks over at him again. “Why not, dear? If I were your age, I’d show him a good time.”

    My mouth falls open. Oliver’s cheeks glow, but he laughs harder than I’ve heard in a while. “Ms. Julie!” 

    She walks back behind the counter, shrugging innocently. “What? I’m just saying.” 

    “That’s a lot to just say.” 

    She piffs, “I’m old. Sometimes I miss the glory days.” 

    I clap my hands once. “Can we get some ice cream, please?” Oliver is bent over, hands resting on his knees, laughter still flowing through him. 

    “Of course, dear. The usual.” 

    I nod. “Two, please.” 

    She starts on my order and I walk over to Oliver, who is standing now, holding his stomach. “I bet you thought that was hilarious.”

    “I really did. Totally called you out.” 

    I punched his arm. “And you!” 

    He shrugs, rubbing his arm. “Well, at least someone likes me.” 

    I roll my eyes.

    “Here you are, dearies.” 

    “Thank you, Ms. Julie.” I pull out my card, but Oliver’s already at the register. 

    “Excuse you.” 

    Ms. Julie tsks, “Now, Diana. If this lovely gentleman wants to pay, you should let him.” She puts her hand next to her mouth, hiding from Oliver’s eyes. “Enjoy it while you can.” 

    I nod, smiling. “Okay, Ms. Julie.” 

    He leaves a large tip, with how cheap her ice cream is, and Ms. Julie begins again. “What brings you back after all this time? Did you miss us?” 

    I hide my grimace. “You, yes. Not really everyone else.” I stir my ice cream. “My Pa passed away last week. His funeral is on Sunday.” 

    Ms. Julie's face completely shuts down. “Oh, he did?” She shakes her head. “Diana, I am so sorry."

    I shrug. “You didn’t do it.”

"How did he pass?" she asks.

I shake my head. "I haven't asked." I look up at her. “Wait, you didn’t know?” 

    She shakes her head again. “No, dear. I don’t know why no one thought to tell me.” 

    “I don’t know why my Ma didn’t tell you. I mean, Pa visited you every Saturday.” 

    She shrugs. “You Ma never really liked me much.” 

    “Yeah.” I press my lips together. “Probably because Pa did.” 

    Ms. Julie shakes her head. “Again, dear. I’m so very sorry for your loss. Stop by anytime.” I nod, giving her a hug over the counter. “And come by at least one more time before you leave.” 

    I smile. Oliver says, ice cream in his mouth, “Don’t worry, Ms. Julie. You don’t have to tell me twice.” 

    She laughs, and points at me, “You keep him, Diana! You hear me?” 

    I shake my head, laughing. “Yes, ma’am.” 

    “Bye!” 

    “Bye.” 

    The bell chimes in farewell. 

    “She’s my new best friend.” Oliver says, getting inside the car. I walk around it, but don't open the door yet. My Ma would surely put her own feelings aside and tell Pa’s friends about his passing. It doesn’t seem like her not to. She loved him more than life itself. 

    I get in, turning the ignition. “What’s wrong?” Oliver asks. 

    “She must’ve forgotten.” I shake my head. 

    “Who?” 

    I look over at him. “Sorry. I’m gonna call my Ma real quick.” I find her in my contacts. She answers on the fourth ring.

    “Diana?”

    “Hey, Ma.” 

    “What’re you-”

    “How did Pa die?” I don’t hesitate. I can’t. Or I won’t keep my courage with my anxiety pulling it away from me. 

    “Diana?” she asks. 

    “Ma?” I hold my ground. She heard me. I don’t hear anything on the other end for a second. 

    “He,” she sighs, “He passed away in his sleep.”

    I shake my head. “Why didn’t you tell Ms. Julie? She was one of Pa’s closest friends. You act like he was murdered.” 

    Silence. 

    “Honey, why don’t you come home and we can talk.” 

    “No.” I turn off the car. “Let’s talk now. Why didn’t you tell Ms. Julie?” 

    She sighs again. My back stiffens. “It was just never the right time.” 

    I swallow. “Does anyone else know?” 

    She sighs again. “Just you.” 

    I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “Why, then, are we having a funeral if no one else knows he’s even dead?” 

    “To remember him.” 

    Anger creeps up on me. “I remember him! I do! Do you? With how often you betrayed him?” 

    Silence. Then, “Diana, you have no right to talk to me that way.”

    I take a deep breath. “Ma, I am not a child anymore. I will respect you when you deserve it. Why have you not told any of Pa’s friends about his passing?” 

    “Diana, I can’t-” I click the red button on my phone screen. 

    “What was that?” I jump. I forgot Oliver was even here. “Nothing.” I turn the ignition again, this time, pulling away instantly. 

    We move further into town, but my mind is turning faster than the wheels beneath me. The thing I don’t understand is, why would Ma lie to me if nothing suspicious was happening? Is she still with her lover? Did she do something wrong? “It’s my Ma. She’s lying to me.” 

    “How do you know?” 

    “She has a tell. She sighs before she tells a lie.”