Water the plants while I’m gone, she said. Make sure the kitchen is clean at night, she continued. Set the mouse traps. I saw one the other day. If there’s one, then there’s two. I want them dead. She zipped her suitcase. Oh yeah. Take the garbage around on Thursday. They come early. Better do it Wednesday night. Got it? The boy nodded his head.

She walked into the bathroom and adjusted her blouse and skirt. She wanted to look nice when she arrived in Dallas. Putting on finishing touches of lipstick, she turned to her son. How do I look? She asked.

Fine. You look fine, he told her.

Just fine? I was hoping for fabulous. She laughed. Sit down, she told the boy. This might be your mom’s last chance, she said.

Last chance at what? He asked.

She snickered. When you’re older, you’ll understand. The mother walked into the kitchen. Poured herself a V8. Added some vodka to it and stirred.

I was wrong, mom. You look beautiful. He sat at the kitchen table. She patted him on top of his head like an obedient dog. The boy smiled. You got everything?

Yeah. I got everything. She downed the bloody Mary. I gotta get going. The taxi will be here any minute. She pulled out her phone. Want to see a picture of him? The boy nodded. She scrolled down the dating page past others she had checked off. Isn’t he handsome?

Yeah. What does he do? The boy asked.

He sells insurance, she said.

Does he have a lot of money? The kid asked.

She nodded. Yeah. He says he does. I told him I was a secretary. He likes redheads. He told me. Said he likes freckles, too. She unbuttoned her blouse a little.

Outside the taxi honked. Rain fell, and she grabbed a smiley face umbrella. Well. This is it. She kissed her son on the cheek. Wish me luck.

Call when you get there. Call me from the road, he said.

There’s a two hour layover in Nashville. I’ll call you then. Greyhound frowns on you using your phone. Have to talk in a whisper. She opened the door and turned around midway to the cab. She waved and mouthed, goodbye.

He closed the door.