“Hey, Mom.”
“Oh.” On the other end, Alyona sounded cold. “Hello.”
Mariska crushed her cigarette out in the glass ashtray on her vanity. Folded it in half and squashed it down. “Hey, I just wanted to call to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine. You know I can’t have callers past five o’clock.”
She knew she shouldn’t have called. Knew it would be more of this bullshit. Knew it knew it.
“I know, Mom. I just.” She squared her shoulders under the ragged baseball jersey she slept in, sighed against the mouthpiece. “I just wanted to call and talk to you, just for a bit. See, I went back to the house. Our old house, you know, with Casey.”
“You did,” Alyona deadpanned.
“Yeah, and I think it was good for me, for both of us. I mean, I hope so, anyway. So I just wanted to let you know I’m okay, you know? About everything that happened.”
“I see.”
“I’m trying to say I forgive you, Mom. I don’t hate you. I never did. I may never understand why you did what you did, but, I’m okay about it.”
Her mother didn’t say anything else. Mariska shook all over with nervous laughter.
“Yeah, so, that’s it, I guess.”
“I love you, Mariska.”
“Yeah. I love you too, Mom.”
It wasn’t until after Mariska hung up that she stopped shaking.
