any idea how expensive tuition is at Harvard? It’s not just another penny in the jar. We can afford it, yes, but it will eat into other things—the foundation, for one. We don’t have sponsors with bottomless pockets.” It was the first time Naomi had ever heard her mother talk about money in such a way. “I know, Mom. I’ll pay for it myself, then.”
“With what?”
“The money you’ve put in my account.”
There was a long pause. “That would maybe pay for one semester. Then what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Get a job. Apply for a loan.”
Another pause. Naomi imagined her mother dying of sarcastic laughter on the other end.
“Mom, I know a job wouldn’t cover it all, but if I was trying, you could at least help me. You won’t stop my rent payments or anything, right?” Her throat swelled as she pressed the phone tightly to her ear. She had never once in her life had to worry about money. “Mom, I’m so, so sorry.”
There was silence for a moment, and then her mother sniffed. “We’re not going to cut you off, sweetheart. Of course we’ll keep paying your rent. I’m just ... I’m disappointed. You’ve always kept up your grades. Even when you came home once you were released from the hospital, you did what it took to get your GED. You were a mess and you still graduated with a 4.0.” She stopped, and Naomi imagined her putting a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand why finding out about Jesse’s parole would have kept you from passing your classes with flying colors, like you always do.”
Naomi wanted to finish the thought for her and say, “Like you always did, huh, Mom?” but she kept her mouth shut.
Silence.
Relaxing her hand on the phone, Naomi stopped pacing her bedroom and sat down at her desk. She ran her finger along the edge of her laptop. “Mom, I—”
“I’ll call the school today and get your tuition paid,” she interrupted. “You focus on getting your grades back up this semester.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I love you, Naomi, but if you can’t do what it takes at Harvard, we’ll have to figure out something else—as long as you’re relying on us, anyway. We can afford to pay for you to go there, but not if you can’t earn it.”
“I understand.” Again, she thought of USC, but shoved it away. For some terrible reason she couldn’t pinpoint, the thought of studying film somewhere else—anywhere, for that matter—made her want to hurl, but she was too far in to go back now.
“Go register for your classes and please focus on school. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Naomi imagined her mother shaking a finger at her, as if she was a toddler being scolded. But this was a scolding, one that stung her to the core. She was getting tired of her mother’s displeasure, even if she deserved it. She had to end the conversation.
“I love you, Mom. I gotta go.”
A long pause. “Alright. Please call me if you need anything ... anything ... okay? You aren’t alone.”
“I know.”
But she felt alone. She ended the phone call and set her phone on the desk.
F OR THREE weeks, Finn came over almost every night for dinner. Naomi started teaching him a few basics. “So you don’t have to survive off ramen noodles,” she said, laughing as she showed him how to cook a hamburger. The next night she showed him how to make baked potatoes, and the night after that, lasagna. Dinner food, breakfast food, it didn’t matter. The list went on and on. When they sat down to eat scrambled eggs with some toast and sliced strawberries, Naomi took a bite and let out a heavy sigh. The eggs were missing something and she had no idea what it was.
“I can never get them right. Not like he did.”
Finn looked up from shoveling the eggs into his mouth. “Like who did? Jesse?”
“No. Eric.”
“Oh.” He finished chewing and swallowed. “It’s interesting how much you care. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She took a long drink of orange juice
“With what?”
“The money you’ve put in my account.”
There was a long pause. “That would maybe pay for one semester. Then what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Get a job. Apply for a loan.”
Another pause. Naomi imagined her mother dying of sarcastic laughter on the other end.
“Mom, I know a job wouldn’t cover it all, but if I was trying, you could at least help me. You won’t stop my rent payments or anything, right?” Her throat swelled as she pressed the phone tightly to her ear. She had never once in her life had to worry about money. “Mom, I’m so, so sorry.”
There was silence for a moment, and then her mother sniffed. “We’re not going to cut you off, sweetheart. Of course we’ll keep paying your rent. I’m just ... I’m disappointed. You’ve always kept up your grades. Even when you came home once you were released from the hospital, you did what it took to get your GED. You were a mess and you still graduated with a 4.0.” She stopped, and Naomi imagined her putting a hand to her forehead. “I don’t understand why finding out about Jesse’s parole would have kept you from passing your classes with flying colors, like you always do.”
Naomi wanted to finish the thought for her and say, “Like you always did, huh, Mom?” but she kept her mouth shut.
Silence.
Relaxing her hand on the phone, Naomi stopped pacing her bedroom and sat down at her desk. She ran her finger along the edge of her laptop. “Mom, I—”
“I’ll call the school today and get your tuition paid,” she interrupted. “You focus on getting your grades back up this semester.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“I love you, Naomi, but if you can’t do what it takes at Harvard, we’ll have to figure out something else—as long as you’re relying on us, anyway. We can afford to pay for you to go there, but not if you can’t earn it.”
“I understand.” Again, she thought of USC, but shoved it away. For some terrible reason she couldn’t pinpoint, the thought of studying film somewhere else—anywhere, for that matter—made her want to hurl, but she was too far in to go back now.
“Go register for your classes and please focus on school. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Naomi imagined her mother shaking a finger at her, as if she was a toddler being scolded. But this was a scolding, one that stung her to the core. She was getting tired of her mother’s displeasure, even if she deserved it. She had to end the conversation.
“I love you, Mom. I gotta go.”
A long pause. “Alright. Please call me if you need anything ... anything ... okay? You aren’t alone.”
“I know.”
But she felt alone. She ended the phone call and set her phone on the desk.
F OR THREE weeks, Finn came over almost every night for dinner. Naomi started teaching him a few basics. “So you don’t have to survive off ramen noodles,” she said, laughing as she showed him how to cook a hamburger. The next night she showed him how to make baked potatoes, and the night after that, lasagna. Dinner food, breakfast food, it didn’t matter. The list went on and on. When they sat down to eat scrambled eggs with some toast and sliced strawberries, Naomi took a bite and let out a heavy sigh. The eggs were missing something and she had no idea what it was.
“I can never get them right. Not like he did.”
Finn looked up from shoveling the eggs into his mouth. “Like who did? Jesse?”
“No. Eric.”
“Oh.” He finished chewing and swallowed. “It’s interesting how much you care. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She took a long drink of orange juice
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