Chapter 2: You Have a Date?

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Ryan

"I have to go, Mum."

I steel myself for the inevitable barrage of sarcasm and guilt headed my way as I prepare to leave. It's always the same routine. As if on cue, Mum rolls into the hallway with a sour expression on her face.

"I shouldn't be surprised you're leaving me alone again–" her voice is high and sharp.

"You're not alone, Mum," I cut her off. "Mindy is here."

I know my sister struggles with some of the more gruelling physical aspects of looking after our mother as her full-time carer, but Mum refuses to let me hire someone else.

"You're a typical Moore, aren't you, shirking all responsibilities and leaving a woman to do all the work."

I rub my temples, trying to remain calm. No matter what I do or don't do; how often I visit or don't visit, it's never enough to please the woman who brought me into this world. Since the day my father walked out on us, Mum hasn't shown me anything but resentment; not even when I started paying for all of her operations, her medications, and her bills.

"I have to go. I have something on," I tell her, choosing my words carefully.

"What is it you're choosing over me? I want to know what's so much more important than your mother."

"It's work-related."

"You're a damn liar. I know you're not on set till January. What kind of son walks out on his sick mother?"

The words are on my lips but I bite my tongue. It wouldn't do to start another argument with her again. Besides, I'm not lying. Jazz is hosting a Christmas party tonight, and she's a colleague. Yeah, maybe I'm selfish for leaving my sick mum to go to a party, but spending too much time with her puts me in danger of becoming just like her; angry, resentful, and bitter.

I need to pull myself out from under the black cloud that's been looming over me since I came back. I want to spend time with people who cares about me and makes me feel good - like my co-stars. Like Mac. Jazz asked me to pick Mac up on the way to the party so I'm heading straight there. It's been a month or so since the finale aired, but I'm used to seeing her every week, either for coffee or at Jazz's, when the cast of Hart's Valley hung out together. Being around her lifts my mood. I need that right now.

"I'll be back for Christmas. Goodbye, Mum."

I take a step forward and bend down to kiss my mum's cheek, then head out the door, trying to ignore the horrible words she's yelling at me. Why do I even bother?

"Have a safe trip home," Mindy says as she walks through the back gate, carrying an empty washing basket on her hip. She looks tired and distant.

"I'm sorry, Min," I say, my heart cracking. "I have to go. I have to get out of here."

"I know. Thanks for being here this week."

"I'll be back in a few days," I tell her.

She nods. "I'll cook us a big fat turkey for Christmas, just like Aunty Rita used to make."

"And I'll bring the booze."

"Bring me a few bottles of Taylor's Cab Sav, will you? I'm going to need it."

Our mother's need for a carer coincided with Mindy's break-up from her long-time boyfriend. I suspect her decision to come back to Morwell was about her trying to escape, rather than deal, but she's been tight-lipped about the whole thing whenever I've tried to talk to her about it. Maybe she'll wake up one day and decide she's ready to go back to the city. If that happens, we'll figure it out. No way am I letting her stay with Mum out of misplaced guilt.

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