And Then Came You (slow updates at this time)

Four

Staying with my parents is a confusing mix of utter relief and toe-curling agitation. I'm grateful Mya and I are here, but it's painfully obvious we need to be on our own—and sooner than later.

Just as I figured, Mama likes to get on me about keeping up with my appearance. It's always, "Come on outside, Ruby, and let the sun shine on your face. A healthy tan will do you a world of good." Or, "How about a slice of avocado with your toast? A few extra calories here and there and you'll have your curves back in no time."

She means well, but her constant hovering is too much.

Mama's not the only reason I'm anxious to get my own place. Mya's not the greatest sleeper. Drive her around in the backseat of a car and she's sliding into dreamland before we even leave the driveway. But at night, in her crib, she's different. Restless. Like she knows the sleeplessness unnerves me. Tommy had a way with her, and always knew what to do. But I'm clueless. I try everything, sometimes three times, before she finally nods off out of sheer exhaustion.

My parents are great. They take turns trying to help, but Mya's just as fussy for them as she is with me. And they don't need our chaotic nighttime routine interfering with their comfortable middle-age lives. They already raised their kid. Now, it's my turn. Mya's my daughter, and as difficult as things may be at the moment, I need to find a way to make this work. She's counting on me to do that for her.

So, on day five of our "new life" back in Lakeside, I break down and ask my father about the apartment.

"Have you had a chance to talk to Mama yet?"

He's working from home today, catching up on his phone calls with out-of-town clients looking to move to Georgia. Several house listings illuminate his laptop as he glances up from the screen. "Not yet. I wanted to tell her when it was ready for us to walk through, but the remodel is taking a little longer than I expected. Turns out the last owner had a cat."

A violent tremor shudders through me.

Daddy laughs. "Exactly. You don't need to have another asthma attack and end up in the emergency room, especially with little Mya around."

I'll never forget that. It's terrifying when you can't breathe. Your chest tightens and your lungs starve for air. It feels like you're suffocating. It was the first time I've ever felt that way, but not the last. "You'd be surprised how many people sneak cats into their dorm room."

"Oh, I'm never surprised by the resourcefulness of college students." His eyes flicker with a sudden onset of compassion. "How about I make some phone calls and see where we're at with things? Maybe we can go for a quick tour."

Right now, the desperation I have to be on my own far outweighs my hesitations about accepting my father's help.

While Daddy makes his phone calls, I change myself and Mya out of our pajamas and we're ready by the time he announces a family road trip. If you can even call it a road trip. Downtown Lakeside is a five minute drive away, and maybe fifteen if you're walking.