“Julia. Your mom is dead.”

     In Julia McCarron’s experience, no good ever came of a phone call before seven in the morning or after ten at night. When her father called late, she had known something was wrong. Well, more wrong than normal. Nobody was ever, just fine, back home.  Cousin Somebody was in jail for DUI. Uncle Whatshisname got locked up for punching Aunt Whoever. So-And-So got cancer. The litany of troubles was never-ending and in every phone call from either her father or her sister was an update about the ever-declining physical state of her mother.

     Jules’ mom had been dying for about fifteen years. First it was a funny throat issue, where her voice was froggy and that had prevented her from answering phones at work, so she had to go on disability. Then it was diabetes. A few months later she got fibromyalgia, then the Lupus, liver failure, maybe some multiple sclerosis, cancer three times, an ulcer, and then finally, emphysema, which was the only legit illness of the bunch after a lifetime of three-packs a day. If there was an illness to be had, her mom was determined to have it. The internet didn’t help with that, so thanks to Web MD and a faster internet connection, Jules had heard every dire diagnosis, possible and impossible alike.

     So when her dad called her and told her that her mother was dead, Jules couldn’t say she was surprised, but until that moment, she hadn’t been able to articulate the difference between surprise and shock. Surprise meant, in no way could she have ever seen it coming. Jules had seen this coming for fifteen years. Shock was when you were frozen in place-unable to move, to think, to do anything other than stare blankly ahead. Shock was what she felt. As the words seeped in to her brain and she processed them, Jules struggled to hear anything else. She forgot for a moment where she was, propped up in bed with a book across her lap, Mari surfing Amazon beside her while absent-mindedly yelling at the cat to get off the TV stand.

     Her dad was talking more. Jules had no idea what he was saying, so she let out a big breath and concentrated as hard as she could on understanding his words. She shook her head then nodded.

     “Yeah. Umm… okay Dad. Yeah. I-I get it. It’s going to take me a minute to figure some things out. I’ll call you back when I get sorted,” Jules said. She put the phone down on the nightstand and stared at her book. She heard the laptop click closed next to her.

     “What happened?” Mari asked.

     It took Jules a solid five seconds to answer. “My mom died,” she said. There was no emotion in her voice at all. She might as well have said, “We’re out of milk.” Likely there would have been some feeling in that.

     Mari scooted closer and put her hand on her arm. “Babe, I’m sorry.”

     The idea of anyone touching her in that moment terrified Jules. She shook herself and shifted ever so slightly away, resisting the urge to pull back and jump out of bed, which she knew would be confusing for Mari, who just wanted to help.

     “Yeah. I’m okay. Okay,” Jules said. She looked down at Mari’s hand on her arm, and she willed herself not to move. Jules reached out, her other hand shaking as she patted Mari’s. “Okay.”

     Mari scooted closer and wrapped her arms around her. “I doubt that you are.”

     Jules didn’t move, didn’t hug her back. She sat still as a corpse and tolerated the embrace. She tried to think of pleasant things, good things, things she loved. Mari smelled good, her hair smelled clean and floral. Jules loved the smell of that shampoo. She loved getting wafts of it whenever Mari walked by or when she rolled over and left the scent of it on her pillow. Jules inhaled deep and tried to just think of that. Clean and Floral. Not dead. Not decaying.

     Jules breathed in a few more times, big breaths, like she’d learned to do in the meditation class. She’d thought all that was bunk, but she had to admit that taking big deep breaths and concentrating only on that usually helped her calm her mind and focus. 

     Her hands shook as she hugged Mari. “It’s going to suck, Mari.”

     She felt Mari’s hands move in slow circles on her back. She loved that feeling.

     “It sure is going to suck,” Mari said. “But we’ll get through it.”

     Her stomach dropped out, and Jules got that prickly flash feeling as the panic stirred in her gut. She wanted Mari with her. She probably needed Mari with her, but she couldn’t take Mari home. 

     “I-I don’t even know what’s going on yet,” Jules said as she pulled away. “My dad won’t know. I’ll have to call Amy.”

     Jules had no sooner gotten those words out of her mouth when her phone rang again. She jumped a little but wasn’t surprised at the caller id. Her sister wasn’t wasting time.

     “Hey,” Jules said.

     “Dad called you.”

     “Yep.” Jules looked over at Mari and shrugged as she slid out of bed and went into the living room. The dark seemed heavy and oppresive, so she flipped on the light and sat on the sofa.

     “Well… “

     “Well, what?” Jules asked.

     “We have shit to do, Jules.”