She did not pick up

Deon comes this morning. He has the contract in his leather folder. He sits at my coffee table and signs the third page. He does not give me the smile he gives at dinner. That one is warm. Today's is flat. He says this is the right move. But I hear the part he does not say. The part is, he is not sure I will be okay after.

I sign too. I do not ask what I am giving up. I want to ask. I am scared to ask.

Tonight I try Mama. It rings eleven times. Then her voice mail. Three Sundays now. The quiet is her answer. I know what she is saying by not saying it. She is saying no. Or she is saying I do not know you anymore.

I sit on my bed after. My hands are cold. I want her to pick up so bad. Just one word. Even mad. Even no. Just so I know she is still in there.