I huffed out a sigh and looked at her out of the corner of my eye.
“Okay, Mom. I need to know what the plan here is. Are you just going to keep chasing every kind of pill you can get prescribed to you with a gallon of wine every day and use that as an excuse for all your behavior? Are you going to cross the line and actually hurt someone, maybe even yourself? Are you so lost in hurt and anger that you’re going to miss being a part of your daughter’s pregnancy because she is scared of what you might do? I hate to break the news to you, Mom, but no one … I mean NO ONE … is going to be willing to ride to your rescue anymore if you keep this up. At some point accountability needs to come into play.”
She didn’t respond, just continued to sit quietly crying in the passenger seat while ignoring me. I didn’t know what else to say to her. This had gotten so far out of hand too long ago and I wasn’t sure how to pull it all back in. When we got to her house I pulled into the driveway and turned to look at her. She sniffled a little and looked at me out of red-rimmed eyes.
“Your dad was my high school sweetheart. We dated all through college and I sacrificed everything so he could go to dental school. I gave him a beautiful family, and I thought we were happy. It hurts so much worse when I think about the idea that he just fell out of love with me than the fact that he moved on. How can someone’s feelings for another person just go away, Saint? After everything?”
My heart twisted for her.
“I don’t know, Mom, and I can’t pretend to understand how badly Dad hurt you, but I do know what you’re doing isn’t making you or anyone else feel better about it. Dad might have fallen out of love, but you still have two daughters who love you and grandkids who miss having a happy and healthy grandma to spend time with. We matter, too, Mom, and all of us hate to see what you’re doing to yourself.”
“I just want him to hurt as badly as he made me hurt.”
“Well, that isn’t going to happen.”
“It isn’t fair.”
I shook my head. “No, it really isn’t, but trust me, getting divorced and having to start over is the least in life that isn’t fair. I had to watch the parents of a way too young girl realize that their daughter died for no other reason than people can’t figure out how to be nice to each other. It isn’t that hard, just be nice and people might not have to suffer needlessly, but that isn’t the world we live in, so young girls die. That isn’t fair, Mom. People falling out of love is vicious and it sucks, but there are far worse things you could be going through. I know that sounds harsh but it’s very true.”
Something moved across her gaze and she looked away from me.
“I forget what a remarkable life you’ve made for yourself, Saint. The strength you have to have to do what you do is admirable and I very well may have lost sight of that in all of this. I hope you know that beyond everything else, I am very proud of you.”
Wow. I hadn’t been expecting that.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Now put some makeup on and maybe a push-up bra and land one of those doctors you work with and I’ll be over the moon.”
And there she was … that sounded more like my mom.
“Stay out of trouble, Mom, and maybe quit the pills.” I tried to keep it light but I made sure she could see the concern I had for her in my gaze. I wanted better for her but realized she was going to have to take some steps herself in order to get it.
She shut the door and headed up to the front door. I waited until she went inside and pulled out my phone. I didn’t think about it, I just found his name in my phone book and pushed the button to call him. He answered on the second ring.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” My voice dropped a little huskier against my will.
“What’s up?”
“Are you busy?”
“Yeah, right now I have a client and one more after. Why, what’s up?”
I chewed on my bottom lip and tapped my fingers nervously on my knee.
“Nothing really. I just had a really weird day and thought maybe hanging out with you would make it a little better.”
He was quiet for a long minute and I thought he was going to tell me I had missed my window or that maybe if I had bothered to call him sooner we could’ve made plans. This is why I sucked so hard at the boy-girl thing. It was rude to just assume he would drop everything and make time for me. I knew his life was busy and he had a lot of friends and people clamoring for his attention and time. Who was I to ask him to be available for me when I finally forced myself to make the time for something other than my job?
“Yeah, we can hang out. Do you care if it’s later? I want to swing by Phil’s. He wasn’t looking very good yesterday when I checked in on him, and I won’t be out of here until after eight, so like around ten or so?”
I was off tomorrow, so he could show up at midnight for all I cared, just as long as he showed up.
“That’s fine. Do you want me to feed you?”
He chuckled and I heard him say something to someone in the background.
“No. Let’s go do something fun. Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.”
That was intriguing and had me curious, which was bizarre because I hated surprises.
“What does your idea of fun look like, Nash?”
“You’ll have to wait and see. Later, Saint.”
He hung up and I was left staring at my phone in wonderment. I didn’t know what I was doing, didn’t know what he was doing to me, but there was no doubt he made my day better by simply being. I shuffled through my music and landed on the Vines and headed back to the city.
I called Faith and filled her in on the situation with our mom. She sounded so stressed out and so sad, I felt bad for her, but Mom was an adult and had to make her own choices and suffer her own consequences. There wasn’t much we could do. We talked for most of the drive home. She couldn’t believe I had bailed out on the doctor. I hadn’t exactly told her who my rescuer had been. I knew she wouldn’t like it. Not after the way my younger self had broken at the hands of Nash’s thoughtless actions and words, directed at me or not.
I still didn’t fully believe that he hadn’t been talking about me, that he was just running his mouth. The vehemence in his tone, the anger in his eyes, made me want to believe him, but I just didn’t know. Frankly, even if he was talking about someone else back then, the words were still cruel and awful. If I let go of that memory, admitted that there was a distinct possibility that my own shattered sense of self, my own broken self-confidence, had fabricated what I wanted to hear, what I just expected to hear about myself back then, then it followed that I had to admit that everything I had done, all the roadblocks I faced in my interpersonal relationships up to this point, fell on me. That was a tough pill to swallow.