A Call From The Past

Brooke was attempting to shower away the confrontation that just happened with the strange woman outside Castle Apartments, but it was not a successful endeavor. Even after 45 minutes in the shower, she still felt unclean after she stepped out of the shower. Brooke wiped the clutch as clean as she could, and threw it out down the stairwell of Castle Apartments so that she no longer had to hid the small purse, or think about it. After she curled up in her old quilt on her bed, she started daydreaming about her childhood again. Daydreaming about her 4-person family was the Brooke’s only solace nowadays. While she drifted in and out of sleep, she remembered the day she came home with her first project in kindergarten, a diorama of an Indian reservation that had gotten a check+. Brooke had hurried in the front door and ran into her mom’s office, shouting “Mommy, Mommy look! I got a good grade on the project me and daddy did together! LOOK!”

Veronica, Brooke’s mom, turned around and said distractedly “That’s great honey. I’m working on a big deadline today. We’ll celebrate later.”

“But mommy, can’t we--”

“Not now sweetheart. Now go on, I’m busy,” and she turned back to her mountain of paperwork. Her promotion at work was riding on finishing this work, and her ambition blinded her from the hurt look on her daughter’s face. Brooke turned and left the room, and Silvia was waiting outside the door with fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. In her Hispanic drawl she said “Let’s go to the kitchen mi cariño and talk about your day.” They had dinner later that night just the 3 of them, Silvia, Brooke, and her father. Veronica declined to eat, and Brooke thought she didn’t care anymore. From that day on, she went strait to the kitchen after school, not up to see her mom in her office anymore.

Brooke sluggishly awoke and decided to find her cell phone before she went back to sleep for good. When she did find in it in the pocket of her jeans from that day, the new voicemail icon was blipping brightly. Tiredly she hit call and waited for the message to play. A Hispanic voice chattered “HOLA mi cariño! It is Silvia! Your father and I have missed you very much! We managed to track you down after all these years! My number is 459-328-9870. Por favor call me as soon as possible! We want to see you again Bubblebutt!”

And without a second thought of her own mother and the repercussions of her actions, Brooke excitedly dialed back and waited for someone to pick up.