Calling Mom
Sitting on the ledge of a high hill, looking out over the ocean, Rome prepared for a phone call he didn't want to make. It was necessary, though. He’d spent a lot of time talking to his lawyer over the last month and a half since they’d come to Thailand. He loved it here and knew Ella was happier than she had ever been in her life. But they couldn't stay here forever, not if he was going to go back to acting. Unless, of course, he left her there and only came back between films, which really wasn’t an option.
They had plenty of money, so it wasn’t that. He just couldn’t stop thinking about making another movie. It was in his blood, and he needed to get back to it, before he started going crazy.
He had found the perfect city to live in on a beach in California, lined up security, and taken care of nearly everything else except for finding the perfect house. Now, he just needed to gauge how safe it was for him to go back.
Thus the phone call he didn’t want to make.
The phone rang several times before it went to voicemail. It didn’t surprise him too much. It wasn’t like his mom to answer calls from someone she didn’t know, and since he had obscured the number he was calling from, it was no shock she didn’t answer. He left a voicemail. “Mom, it’s me. I’ll call you back in five minutes. I need you to answer this time, and do so in private. I don’t want anyone else to know I’m calling you.” He hung up and waited the five minutes he’d mentioned, hoping she’d actually do as he said and answer without anyone else being around and without tipping anyone off.
After five minutes had passed, he called her back. This time, she answered right away. “Rome? Oh, my God. Is that you?”
“It’s me, Mom.”
“Where are you? Are you okay? I thought I’d never hear from you again….” Lacy Verona was clearly on the verge of tears.
“You deserved to never hear from me again, Mom. If I hadn’t been able to get out that window and get away, I would’ve killed myself. How would you have felt coming back into that bedroom to get your dinner plate and finding that?”
“I think about that every day!” She started crying. “Rome, I’m so sorry! I never should’ve let your father do that! We should’ve let you and Ella be together, to be happy. Now, we’ve lost you for good!”
He listened to her sob for a few seconds before he said, “I don't have a lot of time to talk to you right now. I can’t stay in one place for more than a few moments for fear that dad’s men will show up. I’ve been on the run for almost two months now.” Of course, that wasn’t true, but she didn’t need to know that. “I need you to talk to Dad for me. I need you to convince him to call his thugs off. I’m not being charged with anything in relation to Tim Bolt’s death. We know that now. So there’s no reason for him to try to kidnap me again. And since Ella’s not a worry anymore….”
“I’ll tell him, Rome. I’ll tell him. And then, will you come home?”
“I will think about it,” he said. “I need proof that I can come home without being hunted or constantly harassed.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure that he understands, Rome. The only reason they’re looking for you now is to make sure you’re okay. All of your accounts have been emptied. It looks as if your apartment was robbed. We were so worried that something had happened to you, that maybe Sinders had come after you.”
“Haven’t you learned yet what your hate cost you? Both Dad and Lloyd Sinders need to get their shit together. They need to sit down and talk about what hate has brought to both of our families. They should do that for Ella’s sake! Their hatred has cost three lives. How many more people have to die before they can resolve their differences?”
“You’re right, son. I’ll tell him you said so.”
“Fine. I’ll call you back in a week. I want to be assured that he’s called off his thugs, and that I’m safe to come back to California. Don’t expect me to want to see either of you for a while, certainly not him. I won’t even tell you where I am living, just if I’m back.”
“Okay,” she said through sobs that told him she didn’t like that plan. She’d have to get used to it. “Can you call before then?”
“No. I have to make sure it’s safe and that the call’s not being traced. I’m about to get on a plane. I’ll talk to you next Tuesday.” He hung up and rested his head in his hands, hoping this would work. His mom had never been able to convince his father of anything, but maybe, under the circumstances, he’d listen to her. Otherwise, there was no chance of him going home. Ever.
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