Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I whisper and step away from the door.
As soon as my mom is in my apartment and the door is shut, I feel claustrophobic. I feel like it was a mistake to let her in here. What if Orion is sleepy and doesn’t hear us talking, and he comes out totally naked? What if my mom ogles his bottom? That isn’t out of the realm of possibilities, but it would be much worse if he did hear us talking and didn’t come out, naked or clothed, and just listened to the things we said.
“Maybe we should go out for coffee instead,” I say nervously. “There’s a great place down the block.”
“It’s five in the morning.”
Oh good. She does know the time.
“Right, yeah. It’s probably not open at this time.”
I want to be a hardass. I want to be firm. I don’t want to let my mom in at all because I don’t want to give her so much as a sliver of space to hurt me again, but she’s still my mom, and I find myself giving in, pouring us cups of coffee, and sitting down next to her on the couch.
“I’ve missed you.”
My god, the size of her lady balls is unbelievable. I nearly spill my coffee all over myself as I turn to her in shock. How many times have I thought about this? About my mom coming back for me? I used to literally dream about it and wake up hysterical and in tears. I believed all her promises at first, and then the years started to drag on, and I started to realize that maybe I should have known better.
“When I was seventeen, you told me I was old enough to look after myself and that there were things you wanted to do. Things that didn’t involve me. You were tired of being a parent, Melody, so you just took off. You left me alone with basically no idea how to fend for myself in the world.”
“Well, you did all right. This is a nice place. Boring, but nice.”
Ugh, now I want to throw my coffee. Not at my mom or anything, but just throw it to make a point. It’s immature, and I know it, but my hand still trembles. “You said you would come back for me, and it’s been seven years.”
My mom opens her arms and is way too cheerful. “Here I am! I kept my promise. You should have known that I would.”
“It’s been seven years,” I point out.
“At least it hasn’t been ten or fifteen or twenty.”
“You’re only here because your current flavor of the month is gone, and you’ve probably run out of money.”
My mom waves her hand like she isn’t offended one bit. “No, honey. I just finally figured out what’s important, and that’s you. The guys? Yeah, okay, I’ve had a few. I’ve been all over the world and done some wild and crazy things, but I’ve completed my bucket list. Did it make me feel fulfilled like I thought it would? Honestly, no. I can understand why you’re mad at me. It’s been a long time, and I wasn’t the mother you deserved or needed.”
“No, you were. When I was younger.” I feel like I have an obligation to mention it, and I do mean it. I used to think I would do anything to return and have that time back.
Her smile changes, getting a little sadder and softer. “I know, honey, I know. I did leave, and that’s the truth. I just…maybe you’ll understand when you’re older. I got restless, and I couldn’t take it for another minute. I did the best I could, and that’s my honest truth.”
“I used to think you’d walk through the door at any minute. I believed your promise at first, but then the years started to drag on, and I realized I should have known better.”
“You didn’t have to know better. I promised, and I always keep my promises.” Now some of her bravado fades, and I can see the real love shining in her eyes, and it guts me. It’s not fair. I don’t want to make this so freaking easy for her. “I have big plans for us,” she says, gaining some cheer back as her excitement creeps in. “It’s not too late for us, is it?”
I clasp my mug tightly and hold onto my anger, using it like armor. “We don’t have a functioning mother-daughter relationship if that’s what you mean. You have no idea who I am now.”
“We can catch up,” she assures me with absolute conviction on her part. “We can go anywhere. Together. Just you and me. It’ll be just us now.”
Why couldn’t my mom have come back years ago? Years ago, back when I still wanted it to be just us and could still believe what she was saying, and when I would have welcomed her with open arms, a less damaged heart, and far less bitterness.