It was close to midnight when my phone rang.
Surprised, I answered my mother. “What’s wrong?” I asked, sitting up in bed. I hadn’t been asleep. I’d spent the last hour staring up at the ceiling, wrestling with my inner demons.
“s**t,” my mom said, “I didn’t even think of the time. Is it midnight already? I was just watching TV and this commercial came on and it reminded me of you so I just had to pick up the phone. Were you sleeping?”
I rubbed my eyes and reached for my pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. “No, I was reading,” I lied. The last book I’d read had been in grade nine. I put a cigarette to my lip. Funny how every time I was on the phone with my mother, I had the urge to smoke. It was something we did together. “What was the commercial?”
I heard the flick of her lighter. “I
