Changing the Mirage

Prologue

Taylor searched around the room for his ringing phone. He was in the midst of unpacking his belongings when the familiar tunes began ringing out. Even if he had the generic, pre-programmed ring tone he still would have been able to guess who the offender disrupting his unpacking would be; his mother.

He looked at the phone, picking up on the last ring just before the voicemail picked up. For a split second he considered letting his voicemail pick up, but he knew she would just call back; but not before leaving an impossibly long voicemail, that he’d have to listen to before she called back immediately after leaving it.

"Hello," he spoke faking breathlessness. Maybe if she heard he was potentially busy it’d be a short conversation.

"Hey baby," she replied happily. He already felt bad that he was going to have to cut the conversation short. "Did you make it alright?"

"Yes ma’am. I’m here and unpacking," He answered. He was moving out and into his own place for the very first time. To say his mother was nervous was an understatement, but to add to her worries he’d decided to move out of state and refused to let them help him move. He wanted a completely fresh start and that meant doing things his way and on his terms.

"Well, you didn’t call to let us know you arrived," she spoke. Strike one. He thought to himself, rolling his eyes. "You had me…us," she quickly corrected. "Worried," And guilt trip number two, he shook his head.

"I’m sorry, mom. I just kinda wanted to get right to work so I could get unloaded and maybe somewhat unpacked. I didn’t want to have the truck out another day and spend that extra money." He smiled to himself. She wasn’t the only one who could lay a guilt trip.

"Oh right," she replied sounding somewhat sad. "I just miss you already. Another one of my babies leaving the house," And guilt trip number three. He’d have to bow to the master at a later time. He knew if he let her suck him in he’d get nothing done.

"Well mom, I know it’s not the same but you have five kids still in the house. Not to mention, I’ll be back as often as I can."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise," he chuckled. "But I need to go."

"Okay, call me in the morning so I can help you make a grocery list."

"Mom…"

"Jordan Taylor Hanson, I know my children. You will not live off snack cakes and chips and soda."

"Yes ma’am," he smiled, shaking his head again.

"Good. Goodnight, baby. I love you."

"Love you too, Ma," he spoke before disconnecting the call. He tossed the phone on the floor beside him, and glanced around his apartment at the mountain of boxes that would turn his homely apartment into home. Admittedly, it didn’t quite feel like home yet but it definitely felt like a new beginning. And he looked forward to that above almost anything.