I stared down at my phone and realized that it was Larry calling me. I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with him, especially not on my first day at my new job, but he had good contacts, and I needed to unload the last bit of my pot.

“Hey, man,” I said, rushing around the corner to the copy room where it was quiet. “I can’t really talk right now.”

“I’ll make this quick then,” Larry said. “I’ve made a new friend. She’s seriously hot and looking for a good high. She asked me to put her in contact with my dealer.”

“That’s perfect actually,” I said. “I’m going out of business… she can buy up the last of my… stock.”

“Fuck, are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I’m putting the life behind me.”

“Goddammit,” Larry swore. “Now I’m going to have to start using Nobs, and that fucker gives me sub-par shit half the time.”

I smiled. “Sorry…”

“Give the last of your shit to Chrissy,” Larry instructed me. “I want her on a good high when she meets me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need the details. Where can I meet you to hand it over?”

“Uh… you’re not meeting me,” Larry said. “You’re meeting her.”

I frowned. “I don’t know this woman.”

“You didn’t know those college girls either.”

“That was different… I knew they’d bought from a couple other people before,” I said. “They were a sure thing.”

“So’s my Chrissy.”

“When did you meet her?”

“Couple of days ago.”

“No way,” I said. “I’m not meeting her.”

“I’m vouching for her,” Larry insisted. “Have I ever given you a bad contact before?”

“How about the dumbass that tried to run off with my… goods before paying?”

“Well except for him.”

“I’m not meeting her,” I said firmly. “I’ll give you whatever you need, and you can hand it over to her.”

Larry sighed in frustration. “Fine… fuck man… so difficult.”

“This is my last deal,” I said. “After that, I’m done.”

“Make sure you keep the last of your shit for me.”

“That I can do,” I nodded. “When do you need it?”

“She’s coming over a couple days from now,” Larry replied. “How about I let you know?”

“Fine,” I said. “Within the week though?”

“Definitely,” Larry nodded. “I don’t think I can last another week without fucking this one.”

“Like I said… don’t need the details,” I replied.

I hung up with Larry and realized that I was feeling a little lighter. After I unloaded the last bit of my pot supply, that was it. I was done. I had ticked off almost everything on my mental list. I had finally gotten a credible job, I had finished my community service, and I almost put the dealing behind me. Once the last of my pot was gone, then it would be time to sit down with Zoey and tell her my whole story without leaving anything out.

I wasn’t deluded. I knew she would get angry that I had kept up the lie for so long, but I also knew she would appreciate that I was coming clean with her. She would be angry for a while, and then she would forgive me, and our relationship would only be stronger for it. Then she could introduce me to her family, and we could start building a future together. Because I knew one thing for sure… and that was that I wanted a future with Zoey. There was nothing else I wanted more.

I went back to work, but the whole time I kept thinking about all the ways my life was better now that Zoey was in it. I had actually managed to turn things around. Maybe I was looking at a different kind of life now and maybe… just maybe that could possibly include my parents. Sure, I had refused to become a doctor like dad, but I was finally doing something semi-respectable. Working for an arts magazine would certainly impress my mother, if not dad.

I still hadn’t been able to call mom, but as the day wore on and I became more and more pumped at the prospect of putting the dealing behind me once and for all since landing my new job, I decided maybe the time had come.

I got home by six-thirty and found that the apartment was empty. I realized that Zoey had a later shift at the ice cream parlor today so she wouldn’t be back home till eight. I put some pasta on the stove to boil and then picked up my phone. I took a deep breath and punched in my mother’s number. It took a couple of rings, but she finally answered.

“Hello?”

I froze in place for a moment, wishing I had decided on what I was going to say before I had called.

“Hello?”

I gulped back my doubt and barreled ahead despite my reservations. “Hi, mom,” I said.

“Devlin?” She definitely sounded surprised.

“Yeah… yes… it’s me.”

“Oh… I didn’t expect to get a call from you,” she said. “Is everything alright?”

Of course she would assume something was wrong. “Everything’s fine,” I said, but instead of offering her an explanation as to why I had called, I just stopped talking and let silence drip between us.

“Do you… need money?”

“No,” I said immediately. “No… that’s not why I called.”

“Oh…” mom replied, and I could hear the unspoken question on her tongue. Why did I call?

“I just… I wanted to thank you,” I said. “I wanted to thank you for keeping my paintings and… and for giving them back to me instead of just throwing them out.”

“Oh,” mom said, and now she sounded even more shocked. “Well… you are very welcome.”

She was so proper… so poised even she spoke to me. But then I realized that we weren’t all that familiar with one another. We had grown so far apart in the last few years that we may as well have been strangers. I knew the conversation was very close to being over. I had to be the one to make the first move; otherwise, there was really no point in this call. I thought about everything Zoey had told me and that gave me the courage I needed.

“And I also wanted to say… I’m sorry,” I said, as my voice went low. “I’m sorry for being so… abrupt and rude when I was over at the house. That was uncalled for.”

There was silence on the other line, and I wondered if I had lost her. “Mom?”

“I’m here,” she said.

“Did you hear me?”

“I heard you,” she replied.

“Ok…” I said awkwardly when she didn’t say anything.

“Well then… I guess that’s what I wanted to say,” I said. “And now I said it so… I better go.”

“Wait, Devlin,” mom said quickly, as though she had just snapped out of her trance. “Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Your father and I are having a dinner party on Saturday,” she said. “I would… we would really like it if you would come.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want me to attend one of your dinner parties?” I asked, knowing how important those events was to both of my parents.

“Yes.”

“Maybe you should check with dad first,” I said.

“I don’t need to check with dad,” she said, surprising me.

That was very unlike her… but then this call was very unlike me. Maybe we had both gotten so ingrained in the roles we thought we had been forced into that we forgot that we had the power to break them.

“Will you come?” mom asked.

I nodded silently, and then realized she needed verbal acknowledgment. “I… yes,” I nodded. “Of course I’ll come.”

“Excellent.”

“Mom?”

“Yes?” I wondered if it was my imagination or not but her tone seemed softer somehow.

“Do you mind if I bring a friend with me?” I asked.

“Do you mean Zach?” mom asked. She knew that he was my buffer… he had always been my buffer where dad was concerned. He took the focus off me so that dad didn’t have to try too hard to be nice to me.

“Actually no,” I said. “This is someone different. Actually… she’s more than just my friend. She’s my girlfriend.”

“Is that right?” mom asked.

“Her name is Zoey,” I said.

“Zoey,” mom repeated her name. “What does she do?”

It was the first question my parents asked about anyone. That was how they sized someone up. What a person did said a lot about who they were. I suppose that was always why they hated the fact that their son became an unemployed artist trying to push his paintings like some common street peddler.

“She’s graduating from Columbia University in a few weeks with a degree in music theory.”

“Well,” mom said, and that one word told me she was impressed. “Columbia is a fantastic university.”

“It is.”

“What instrument does she play?”

“Mostly piano,” I replied. “But’s she’s very good with the guitar and the violin too.”

“That’s wonderful,” mom said. “We have a grand piano in the main living room. She can play for us on Saturday.”

“I’m sure she’d love to,” I nodded.

“Well then… we’ll see you and Zoey then.”

“Ok,” I replied. “Bye, mom.”

“Bye, Devlin.”

I hung up and let out a deep breath. I had done it. I had called my mother and made the first step. And again… I felt better because of it. Zoey had been right… as she was about so many things. If I wanted something to change then I had to make the necessary steps to change it.

I drained my pasta, and I was tossing some olive oil through it when I realized that introducing Zoey to my parents on Saturday meant telling her the truth sooner. I was pretty sure that neither mom or dad would bring up my community service in front of their haughty friends; they would want to hide that at any cost. But I also didn’t want to take the risk of anything slipping and having Zoey find out in the middle of a party with my parents around.

I would need to tell her… immediately. Today was Thursday, which meant I had very little time left. I thought about the last bit of pot in my closet, and I closed my eyes.

“Fuck,” I groaned out loud to my empty apartment.

I had wanted to be able to tell her that I was done dealing. How could I do that with pot still in my closet? Maybe I could unload it before I told her, but that put me on a strict deadline since the party was on Saturday.

“Fuck me,” I groaned again.

“Give me a second… I just walked through the door,” Zoey said, from behind me.

I whirled around. “Geez, I didn’t even hear you come in.”

Zoey laughed. “I guessed as much. What were you swearing about?”

This was my chance. I had to tell her... now. But looking at her gorgeous, kind, trusting eyes, I froze. “Uh, nothing… just burned my fingers on boiling pasta.”

“Oh, are we having pasta for dinner?”

“Yup.”

“Yay,” Zoey said. “I’m starving, and I’m exhausted.”

“Sit down,” I told her. “I’ll get you a bowl.”

We sat down together, and I justified my cowardice by telling myself that Zoey was too tired to deal with that particular conversation tonight. I would put it off for tomorrow night and like it or not, I would tell her then. I would just have to make it clear that I was done with dealing once I got rid of my last bit of pot.

I just prayed she would believe me. More importantly, I prayed she would forgive me.