When we are finally walking up the stairs, I’m ready to collapse on the couch. Opening the door, the heat hits you right away. The thickness of the humidity makes it hard for you to even breathe. “Why don’t you get in the shower, and I’ll start making dinner.”

“Okay, Mom,” he says, dumping his new hockey bag by the door and walking into the bathroom. I walk over to the window in the corner and open it up, not sure if it is going to help. When I finally pull the thick wooden window up, a slight breeze comes in. Tying my hair up, I walk to the bedroom and strip out of my jeans, the thick envelope I got at the end of the day heavy in my back pocket. Taking it out, I open it and sit on the bed. Being summoned to the boss’s office fifteen minutes before the end of your shift never has a good outcome. Walking in and looking at him not making eye contact with you was a second alert. Starting the sentence with I’m so sorry was what cemented what I knew was coming. Hours have to be cut and the last one in usually takes the brunt of it. Even though I’d been there for over six months, I was the last one in.

A tear escapes my eye, making it hard to stop the other tear that comes after. Putting my hands over my face, I let the disappointment run through me. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Usually when something is running smoothly is when it turns to shit shortly after. I was finally able to see a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel but then with me getting fired and getting a two-week severance, the light is now covered in black. I have no idea what I’m going to do. I called Karla right away and asked her if she had more cleaning shifts at the motel, and even though I was almost begging, all she had was my regular weekend shifts. Tonight after Dylan goes to bed, I’ll take out all my papers and see how I will stretch this last check.