Chapter 6: Mothers, Memories, and Midnight Calls

At the end of the day, I glanced at Savannah’s office—she looked like she’d be working late again. But I didn’t linger. I drove to my parents’ house.

The drive home was full of familiar sights—kids playing basketball in the driveway, the scent of barbecue drifting through the open windows. I rolled down my window and let the breeze clear my head.

Once I started working, I moved out. After I’d saved up, I bought my own place. Usually, I’d visit my parents on weekends. But lately, I’d been avoiding it, mostly because my mom had started nagging me about setting me up again.

She’d started sending me texts with pictures of “nice girls from church” and forwarding me phone numbers. It was sweet, in her own way, but exhausting.

Back when I wasn’t out, all her setups were men. But once I was on my own, I finally came out to them. They sighed and fretted for a week, but eventually accepted it. So my dear mom started introducing me to women instead.

Sure enough, as soon as I finished dinner, my mom pulled up a photo on her phone. “This is Mrs. Grant’s daughter. She’s quiet and pretty, a doctor, and she likes girls too.”

She slid her phone across the table, giving me that look. I almost laughed—classic Mom. “Just one date, Autumn. You never know.”

I tried to escape, calling into the kitchen, “I’ll help Dad with the dishes.”

"Sit down." In this house, Mom’s the boss. When she speaks, I listen.

Her glare was legendary. I plopped back into my chair. Resigned. No use fighting the queen.

“Mrs. Delaney, my dearest mother, please stop worrying about my love life, okay?”

She glared at me. “How can I not worry? You’re not getting any younger—how long are you going to stay single? We’ve accepted that you don’t like men, so we’re introducing you to women, but you won’t meet them either. What do you want? Stay single forever?”

Her voice wobbled a little, and I felt a pang of guilt. She just wanted me to be happy, even if she didn’t always understand how to help.

I grinned and wrapped my arm around her. “What’s wrong with being single? I just want to stay with you and Dad forever and freeload meals for life.”

She swatted me but didn’t shake off my arm. I could tell she was softening. I thought, Maybe I’m not such a disappointment after all.

“Don’t joke around. There’ll always be food for you. I just worry—if your dad and I are gone someday, you’ll be all alone. How can we not worry?”

Her voice started to break.

I hugged her tighter, trying to lighten the mood. “Stop, Mrs. Delaney. You and Dad will live to a hundred. Don’t cry, or Dad will blame me for bullying his wife.” I exaggerated, hoping for a laugh.

She wiped her eyes and scolded, “Then bring home a wife already. Tell me honestly, have you been single all these years because you already like someone? Tell me, and I’ll teach you how to chase girls.”

I burst out laughing. “Oh wow, you know how to chase girls?”

She got lost in thought. “Back in the day, your mom was chased by girls too, you know.”

That really surprised me.

“Details, please!”

Just as she was about to spill, Dad burst out of the kitchen and turned on the TV. “Your show’s starting!”

He cranked up the volume, pretending not to notice the emotional moment. Subtle, Dad. Real subtle.

Mom shot him a look, but smiled anyway.

Mom whispered, “Not now, your dad gets jealous.”

Mom had plenty of admirers when she was young. In the end, Dad won her over, and they’ve only gotten more in love over the years.

Maybe because my parents’ marriage is so happy, I refuse to settle in my own love life.

After watching TV with them for a bit, I went to my room. Only then did I notice a message on my phone. The work group chat was blowing up—the boss was asking who was still at the office. Apparently, building management accidentally killed the power during repairs, and the card readers were down until it came back. The only one still working late was Savannah.

I saw her message in the group: “I’m here.”

Her text was as calm as ever, but I knew better. My heart hammered in my chest.

I jumped up, grabbed my car keys, and headed out.

My parents looked puzzled. “Where are you going this late?”

Changing my shoes, I called back, “Something came up at work, I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”

Savannah is afraid of the dark.

I didn’t want her locked in a pitch-black office alone.

I’d discovered her fear of the dark by accident in college. Our Midwestern university mostly had communal showers, but the grad student dorms had private stalls on each floor. As a Southern girl, I’d drag Savannah, a Midwesterner, to sneak into the grad dorms to shower during off-hours.

One hot summer night during freshman year, the bathroom lights suddenly went out mid-shower. The whole place went dark. At first, I didn’t notice and just kept washing. But then I realized Savannah was talking way more than usual, her voice a little shaky, as if she was checking if I was still there.

I asked, “Savannah, are you scared?”

She went quiet for a moment, then tried to sound tough. “No, I’m not.”

I inherited a lot from my parents—just not a good singing voice.

When we finished and walked down the lit hallway, her face was flushed from the steam, her voice awkward. “Autumn, you sing off-key.”

I tilted my head, looking into her eyes. “Then next time the lights go out, I’ll sing for you again.”

From then on, every time the lights went out, I sang. Eventually, someone even posted on the school forum—every time the grad dorm showers went dark, some mystery girl would sing in the dark. And the singing was… well, let’s just say it was memorable.

Now, after climbing twelve flights of stairs to the office building, I stared at the pitch-black floor, feeling a strange panic. I didn’t care—I found Savannah’s Messenger profile and sent her a friend request. She accepted right away. I immediately called her. As soon as she picked up, I said, “I’m at the office entrance.”

She didn’t say anything, but I could hear her walking. Soon, she appeared on the other side of the glass door. Both our phone flashlights were on, and the call stayed connected. After climbing all those stairs, I was out of breath.

Her voice came through both the phone and real life. “Autumn, what are you doing here?” Her tone was flat, her face unreadable, but her hands twisted nervously at her side.

Just then, the power came back. The sudden light let me see her eyes clearly.

I gave a self-mocking smile. “Came to sing.”

We stared at each other through the glass, neither of us moving. The air felt heavy, my heart thudding in my ears. The building staff showed up to check the floors, breaking the silence. While they talked to Savannah, I quietly hung up and left.

I slipped away before she could say anything else, my heart pounding. The elevator ride down felt endless.

When I got home, my parents were already asleep, but the warm light in the foyer was still on. I tiptoed to my room. Spent the night wide awake.

I stared at the ceiling, replaying the night over and over. My phone buzzed with a new message from Savannah: "Thank you."

I stayed at my parents’ place for the weekend, watching sitcoms with Mom and helping Dad cook. My Messenger with Savannah still showed that brief voice call. I didn’t reach out again, and of course, she wouldn’t either.

I kept glancing at her name, fingers hovering over the keyboard. But every time, I chickened out.

Instead, I made pancakes with Dad and let Mom beat me at Scrabble.

Sunday night, before heading home, Mom even made her special crispy pork for me to take. I teased her, “Mrs. Delaney’s signature crispy pork—I’ll savor every bite.”

She rolled her eyes, but I caught her smiling as she packed it up.

For once, she didn’t sass me. “You’ve been distracted all weekend. If you don’t want to talk, we won’t ask.”

I denied it. “No way.”

She packed up the pork. “You’re a part of me—how could I not know? If you want to eat at home, just come over anytime. Your dad and I are always here.”

My eyes stung. I exaggerated, “Of course! Not only will I eat, I’ll take leftovers too.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Just don’t bring back an empty Tupperware.”