Angel

2 - Noreen

"Maybe next week, okay? I just want to grab some soup on the way home and curl up on the couch, get under the comforter and veg out."

"Noreen, it's been more than a month."

"I know, it's... Look, I just can't. Soon. Next week, I promise."

"Want me to come over? I can pick up the soup. That tomato bisque and that grilled cheese they have?"

The offer was genuine. Inda was a good friend and would slow down the world if it would help me catch up, but I couldn't do that to her. It was karaoke night at Brooke's Downtown and it was bad enough that I wouldn't be joining her.

"No, you go. Have a good time. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay, but you're coming next week even if I have to kidnap you."

"Inda, we've been doing this forever. Don't guilt me if I take a break for a while."

"Um, yeah. Sure. I'll... I'll call you."

Great. Now she was all hurt and offended. It was all so much. I didn't feel like going out. What's the big deal?

While most of my college friends had drifted away, Inda had remained as close as the day we had graduated. We still got together to eat junk food and watch old musicals, we still talked for hours and we still went to karaoke. We're music nerds. Sue us.

It's not that I didn't want to go. No, I was levels below that. I couldn't even find the interest to pretend to want to go. I'd been sleeping too much lately and staying by myself. It wasn't healthy, but that was something else I didn't really care about. I was an adult. I paid my bills. I went to work every day and I met my obligations, so I could express that adulting by getting two family size soups and a pint of Ben & Jerry's for dinner.

I was two hours into reading a romance when my mother called. Unwrapping myself from the comforter, I put the Kindle down next to the half-melted remains of Cherry Garcia and picked up the phone.

"Hey, Mom. Everything okay?"

"Yes, of course. Why are you home?"

I rolled my eyes. "How do you know I'm home?"

"Because I'm not an idiot, dear. If you were at karaoke, I'd hear music or loud conversations and you wouldn't pick up on the first ring."

My father gave me my drive and head for numbers. From my mother I got my love of singing and the ability to not give a crap about other people's opinions of me. For her birthday and Mother's Day, Inda and I would take her with us and we'd stay out all night singing to strangers whenever our name was called.

I get it. Karaoke is a cliche from an earlier decade. Don't like it, don't go. For glee club members who've graduated and moved on, there aren't that many outlets to get your singing on. So yeah, Mom knew where I should have been that night.

"Fair. I didn't feel like going out."

"Are you sick? I could drop off some soup?"

Smiling, I shook my head. "I just finished the better part of a large chicken noodle. I'm fine, really. What's going on?"

"I was going to leave a message. I'm stopping by this weekend to get the decorations from the attic and set them up."

Shaking my head, I looked up at the ceiling. "Okay, go crazy."

"You'll be there to help?"

"Mom, I'll bring the stuff down and leave it near the door. Don't ask me to actually set all this crap up."

My parents lived in one of the most exclusive neighbourhoods in the province. If my mother decorated their house like she wanted to, some stodgy banker would have a coronary. Besides the trust fund, I'd inherited my home from my grandparents and Mom used it to overindulge in holiday spirit. Inflatable reindeer at Christmas, giant Easter bunnies, ghosts and ghouls for Halloween; my house was an eyesore every few months.

There was silence on her end.

"Mom?"

"Noreen, if you're not happy, make a change. Whatever this is, it's been bothering you for a while."

What was with everyone? "I'm fine. I just... I don't know. I'm fine. Don't make this a thing, okay? Set up your decorations, have a great time and maybe we'll get dinner after."

"So, you're going to sit in that house and what, read, while I set everything up? Don't you—"

"This is your tradition, Mom, not mine. If it makes you happy, go for it. I'll give the kid that does the lawn some cash. He'll lug things around for you. I gotta go. I love you."

"I love you too, Noreen. I'll see you Saturday."

Snuggled in, I read until dropping off.

I woke up almost smelling the antiseptic aroma of the hospital. I was still on the couch and I guessed it was two in the morning. Rubbing my eyes, I tried to recall what I'd been dreaming of but could only pull together faint memories of sickbeds and cemeteries.

The wind was whistling in the backyard and the one light in the kitchen worked with the full moon to give me enough light to see by. Shivering, I sat up and stretched.

Sighing, I grabbed the remote and put on the TV. Some folk singer who hadn't had a hit in fifteen years was squatting down next to a puppy. She was at a no-kill shelter letting me know that for less than the cost of a cup of coffee a day, I could help keep dogs like Maxie off the streets and help them find a forever home.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. No thanks. I needed my double-double in the morning if I was going to make it through the day. Let's swap jobs and we'll see how much you care about random doggos, Ms. Once-Was-Famous-Singer.

Letting the TV drone on, I reclined back into the couch and pulled the comforter around me. Closing my eyes, I tried to will myself back to sleep.

A few minutes later, I was staring at the ceiling. Why did I just roll my eyes about a no-kill shelter? Why was my instinct to joke about my caffeine addiction? Why didn't I give a fuck anymore?

Falling back asleep, I slept soundly and woke up knowing something was different, something fundamental and deep. Change was on the horizon.