This L, so full of life, so full of unfamiliar people, and hustle and bustle. This was where I breathed and felt home.
Even on my worst day, I was thankful for the moment, for the opportunity to be right where I was.
My phone buzzed as I got on the train, and when I took my seat, I read my message.
Mom: If you don’t answer, I will come to visit.
Miranda Lambert started singing immediately.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered, my voice high and bouncy.
“Oh, don’t jump right into the sarcasm, Victory.”
“I’m not. I’m happy to answer when a warning is attached.” I rolled my eyes and looked out the window to the streets we passed below. Night and darkness lurked, ready to overtake the city. By the time I reached home, only the streetlights and buildings would light my way.
“Are you on your way home?”
“Yes.”
“What’s that noise I hear?”
“I have no idea.” She was talking about the train.
“Is that the L?”
I sighed. “Why are you calling, Mom?”
“So, you’re on the train? You have a compromised immune system and you’re using public transportation?” Her voice started rising. “Do you know how worried we are about you living in that city?”
“Mom, I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”
“She says she can’t keep having this conversation.” Her voice was muffled and I knew my father was standing over her, rubbing her back. “Well, I don’t want to have this conversation over and over either, Vick.”
I sat up a little straighter. “Then, let’s not have it. I’m fine and I had a long day at work.”
“Work.” I heard my mother physically relax, she sighed into the phone like she was deflating and sitting down. “How is work, honey? I am so happy you are working with Steven.”
She would be. Steven was safe. He followed the rules, he gave the right impression to parents, without fail he acted like a gentleman.
I knew because my family and his had always been close. Before Steven’s father passed away and left him the company, our parents used to double date. Now, my mother stayed in very close contact with his.
“Yes, Steven is a great boss and friend.”
“Isn’t he? And Darcy called me today to tell me they sold to Stonewood Enterprises,” my mother squealed. The Stonewoods were like America’s royal family. “I can’t believe you know them, that Brey married Jax. Who did Samson and Sons have the meeting with? Was it Jax or Jett, the oldest?”
My mother loved celebrity gossip. She loved talking about almost anything, really. The woman could talk for hours about nothing and everything. I liked to think I inherited her uncanny ability to make anyone feel comfortable.
She could almost fool me into having a normal conversation with her. “Yes, but I didn’t say much. I think he’s always amicable because he knows I’m Brey’s friend.”
“Of course, of course. So, are you going straight home?”
As if on cue, the train screeched to a stop, and I shut my eyes as my mother gasped.
“Youareon the L, Victory Blakely.” She hissed my name with venom. “I used to ride it, and I know exactly the way it sounds.”
My mother, once upon a time, conquered Chicago by climbing the ranks of the fashion industry here. She took the train every night, walked the streets without supervision, probably did some crazy shit like crossing the street with her eyes closed.
I stood to get off, whispering, “Excuse me, excuse me,” as I made my way down to the street. “So, then you know it’s perfectly safe for most people.”