Fifty

Fifty
Fallon

The second I answered my mom’s video call, her face filled my screen — already mid-sentence and in full dramatic flow.
“—and I told your aunt not to dye her hair that shade of red, but does she listen to me? No. Now she looks like she’s auditioning for a telenovela villain role.”
I burst out laughing, sinking deeper into the couch. “Hi, mom. Nice to see you too.”
She waved a hand, completely unbothered. “Ay, I see you all the time. You’re all over the internet.”
I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Oh, I will.” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the screen. “That kiss at the gala? Dios mío, I thought I was going to faint.”
Of course she brought that up.
“Mom—”
“Everyone’s talking about it!” she continued, completely ignoring my attempts to derail the conversation. “Your cousins won’t stop sending me articles. Even your grandmother called to ask when the babies are coming.”
I nearly choked on my water. “Mom!”
“Well?” she pressed, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence. “When are the babies coming?”
I covered my face with my hands, my laughter muffled against my palms. “We’re not doing this.”
“Oh, we are.” She grinned, clearly enjoying my torment. “It’s my right as your mother. I demand grandchildren.”
“You have Nancy’s kids!” I reminded her, grasping for any kind of escape. My cousin who couldn’t make it to the wedding because she just had a baby was my first point of call.
“It’s not the same,” she shot back without hesitation. “And you —” she pointed at me again for emphasis “— are married to a billionaire. What’s the point if I don’t get at least one beautiful, well-dressed grandbaby out of it?”
The sheer absurdity of the conversation had me laughing so hard I could barely breathe. My mom always had a way of turning even the most serious situations into something ridiculous — and right now, I needed it more than I wanted to admit.
Once the teasing settled down, the conversation shifted to safer topics — her latest shopping trip, my cousin Nancy’s chaotic household as a mother of three , and the ongoing drama of a neighbor I didn’t even know but now felt heavily invested in.
“You wouldn’t believe what happened at the neighborhood association meeting,” she said, her eyes lighting up with pure gossip-fueled excitement.
“Oh no.” I grinned. “What did Mrs. Smith do now?”
“She accused Mr. Clinton of stealing her lawn flamingo!”
I gasped, fully into the drama now. “The pink one?”
“The very same.” She nodded gravely. “And then he accused her of spying on him with binoculars!”
“She does have binoculars,” I reminded her.
“She does, but that’s not the point,” my mom insisted, her face deadly serious. “The point is — they almost came to blows over a plastic bird.”
“Please tell me you recorded it.”
She looked vaguely offended. “Of course I did.”
Eventually, the laughter faded, and we slipped into something softer — the easy warmth that had always been part of our relationship.
“You work too much,” she said at one point, watching me closely. “You’re always on your phone, always editing something. When’s the last time you took a break?”
I shrugged, not wanting to get into it. “I like my work.”
“I know you do,” she said gently. “But you should enjoy your life too, mi amor. Go out. Have fun. Spend time with your husband.”
The mention of Reid made my stomach twist. I kept my face carefully neutral. “He’s busy.”
She clicked her tongue, clearly unimpressed. “Then make him unbusy. Take a trip! Go on a date!”
I forced a smile. “You’re very invested in my love life.”
“Of course I am.” Her face softened. “I want you to be happy.”
The words hit harder than I expected — a quiet ache blooming beneath my ribs.
Because deep down, I wasn’t sure what happy even looked like anymore.
She must’ve seen something in my face because her expression shifted — her eyes going warm and worried the way they always did when she sensed something was off.
“Fallon,” she said softly. “Is everything okay?”
I opened my mouth — and for a second, I almost told her.
Almost told her about the distance. The silence. The nights spent in separate rooms and the mornings that passed without a word. The weight of being so close to someone and still feeling miles away.
But I didn’t.
Because my mom loved big and worried bigger. And I wasn’t ready to explain a marriage I barely understood myself.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I said, my voice gentle but firm. “It’s just work stress.”
She didn’t believe me. Not fully. But she let it go — for now.
“Promise me you’ll take a break,” she said before we ended the call. “Even if it’s just for a day. Go outside. Breathe.”
I smiled, the tightness in my chest easing just a little. “I promise.”
“And Fallon?”
“Yeah?”
Her face softened again. “You deserve to be happy. Don’t settle for anything less.”
Her words stayed with me long after the screen went dark.
And I couldn’t help wondering was that what I’d done?