Her voice softened.
“Hey,” she cooed, reaching for my hand.
“Don’t be like this to me.
You know you are all I have.” I stepped back.
For one horrible moment, a thought came so quickly that it frightened me.
I wished I didn’t have her.
I was a bad person.
At least that was what I felt like.
What kind of daughter wished she didn’t have her mother?
But I was tired of feeling guilty for wanting to live.
“Hey, um, where do you live?” she was caressing my hand.
“Is it big?
Is it fancy?” Her eyes shone.
“Maybe we could come visit you?
Hmm?” And stay forever?
Like I’d let that happen.
“You can’t visit me, Mom,” I said, withdrawing my hand.
She looked at me.
“And you know why.” Her false smile died there and then.
“Aren’t we being a little too perfect?” She mocked.
“Yes, I am.” I said in her face.
Maybe it was because I wanted my life to be perfect.
Maybe it was because for once in my life I wanted my mother to be my mother, not a liability.
I looked around the claustrophobic room and exhaled.
“Aren’t you tired of living like this?” I pointed around.
“Hopping from one motel to the other?
At least, until you are arrested again for possession.” “I haven’t been arrested in a while.” How was she proud of that?
My eyes were starting to burn.
“Enough with the drugs,” I whispered.
“Find a way to fix your life, and please just…” I trailed off.
What was I going to say?
Leave Gary?
Never contact me again?
Get better?
Even I knew none of those things would be happening anytime soon, if at all.
“Fine.
You don’t want me visiting you, I understand.
So help me.” She shifted on the bed.
“If you help me, I could get the help I need.
I will become the mother you want.” A tiny, ridiculous laugh escaped me.
Like I hadn’t heard that before.
Years ago, when she had told me she wanted to go to a rehab center, foolishly, and happily, I had believed her.
I had given her every single cent she’d asked for after which she had disappeared for months.
Every time I’d asked, she’d said she was attending sessions.
Until I’d found out.
She’d never gone.
Her ‘sessions’ had been at a crackhouse.
I had been working multiple part-time jobs then.
It hadn’t mattered to her.
“I can’t do this anymore.” “Megan—” “I’m leaving.” I turned toward the door.
“Wait.” I didn’t.
As my hand closed around the door handle, her voice caught me.
“Don’t lose my contact.
I’ll be in touch.” My hand held.
“And don’t you dare block me out of your life again.
Or the next time I find you, it will be ugly, Meggy.” I closed my eyes, standing still, with my hand on the sticky handle, suddenly not feeling like a bad person.
I wished she’d disappear.
Yes, I said it.
Then I opened the door and walked out.
I didn’t look back.
I didn’t let myself.
If I did, I knew the tears caught behind my eyes would fall.
I won’t be that weak.
Not in front of her.
The road was almost empty.
My footsteps were too loud against the sidewalk, still I kept walking, my chest burning with the effort of holding back tears.
I swallowed through the heat.
It didn’t help.
When the tears stung, I wiped underneath my eyes.
Not here, I told myself.
I wasn’t going to cry just outside her motel.
I won’t give her that joy.
Suddenly my phone rang and for one irrational second, I thought it might be her.
It was Riley.
I cleared my throat.
“Hello?” “Hello, Megan.” Her voice was bright.
Too bright for the despair I was in.
It annoyed me.
“How are you?
Did you get to work on time?
I thought you’d be busy, so I didn’t call all morning.” I swallowed through the lump in my throat.
“Yeah.
Um… work is good.” My voice sounded strange.
“Thanks for the shirt, by the way.
And the shoes.” It had made my mother assume I was a billionaire, but it wasn’t Riley’s fault, right?
I mean, it wasn’t like she forced it on me, or tricked me in for a movie-turned-girls night.
It wasn’t like she forced herself into my life and now I was mourning the friendship I didn’t even know I valued.
“No problem.” she chipped.
A pause.
“I was going to tell you, but we woke up late and you and Avery had to hurry out.” “Tell us what?” “There’s a weekend getaway and I’m including you in it.
I’ll call Avery later to remind her.” My eyes closed and my breathing came slowly.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Something in me was reaching its breaking point.
Who did she think I was, a jobless nobody at her beck and call?
Why was everyone always telling me what to do?
Why were they forcing me to do things?
“Riley, I can’t make it.
I have to go to work.” And my mother is in town.
She has come back into my life.
“Oh, I know that.
It’s a three-day thing and it would be splendid.
What I’m saying in earnest is, I’ll take whatever hours you can give.” “I can’t.” “Of course, you can,” she countered.
“It’s this weekend, don’t make me miss you.” The breaking point became meaningless and whatever it was, snapped.
“I can’t make it!
I’m a doctor, Riley!” My voice rose.
“I don’t get to just take whatever hours I want.” “Megan—?” her voice was quiet.
“I can’t just take weekends off, or write up charts or travel across town because you ask me too.
This is my life, and I’d wish all of you would just leave me alone!” I ended the call.
The silence afterward was worse.
My breathing was uneven and my phone, very annoying.
I tossed it back in my bag.
I shouldn’t have spoken to her like that.
And I regretted it the moment the call ended, but I was too angry, too exhausted, and too broken to care.
My life had been okay a few weeks ago.
Boring, but okay.
Now, because of Riley and my mother, I have felt the extremes of every emotion, good and bad, and I was tired.
All I wanted now was to cry in peace.
I took one step after another.
I needed to get home.
I needed my bed.
I needed to curl up under my blanket and wish this day away.
I needed… My feet could not move anymore.
The pain bubbled to the surface but I refused to cry.
Not on the road, Megan.
Not on the road.
But the grief did not listen.
It lowered me onto the edge of the empty road, pulled my knees to my chest, and broke out of me.
Like a lost child, I covered my face with both hands and wept bitterly.
Until I could not anymore.