“Janelle,” my mom reprimands. “That is not what I said.”
“Do you think it was appropriate for you to spend the afternoon with Arnold?” I throw her words back at her. “What else was I supposed to take from that?”
“It’s just that emotions run high during events like this. It’s easy to get caught up and make mistakes.”
“Mistakes? Mistakes like what?”
“Mistakes like…I don’t know, just mistakes. I’m just looking out for you, sweetie. I know this wedding is hard for you.”
I am so tired of hearing that. “No. It’s not hard at all. If you ever stopped to listen to a word I say you would know that I could not care less about this wedding. I’m happy for Ri. I’m happy for Arnold. I don’t have any lingering feelings for him, and I don’t appreciate you gaslighting me about that. Let’s not forget who dated Arnold first, so if you want to talk to someone about not being the woman you raised, I think you’re talking to the wrong daughter.”
“There’s no need to be nasty toward your sister.”
“Deb, mmmm mmm.” My dad shakes his head at my mom. He doesn’t get involved often, preferring to let us work out our problems on our own and offer his own support separately; so when he does get involved my mom knows she’s bordering on the point of no return.
She clears her throat. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you, Mom. I don’t know what I did to make you think so low of me but I’m at the point where I don’t care what you or Ri think. I don’t have anything to prove to you. Your issues with me are not my problem.”
She takes my hand in hers over the table. “No, no. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. This isn’t what I wanted.”
Our server brings out our drinks, giving me an opportunity to break the physical connection between me and my mom. A mother’s touch is supposed to be calming and soothing, but my mother’s touch feels suffocating. I feel myself choking on her expectations and perceptions.
I tell our server that I need more time to think about my order so she excuses herself. Truthfully, I haven’t even looked at the menu. I don’t even think we’ll be eating at this rate because I’m ready to walk out.
“Where was I?” she questions.
“You weren’t really saying much of anything.”
“I’m trying to explain here.”
“Are you?”
She slams her hand on the table, drawing the eyes of others around us. “Damnit, Janelle. You have never needed me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ever since you were a kid you never needed me for anything. It was either your dad or no one. You taught yourself how to tie your shoes. Your dad taught you how to ride a bike. You worked through boy issues on your own. Your dad taught you how to drive. You killed undergrad without so much as a complaint. I never heard a peep from you during medical school. You just never relied on me. When everything happened with you, Amerie, and Arnold, I just knew you would need me. I just knew something like this would eat you up inside and you’d finally need me to get you through something. I guess I convinced myself that was the truth even when you said it wasn’t.”
My head spins at this revelation. Confusion gives way to rage as I take in my mother’s earnest smile. As if her confession will automatically fix decades of issues between us. She turns her palm up on the table, expecting me to join hands with her. Fuck that.
“That…that doesn’t even make sense.”
Her smile falters. I can still feel the warmth her hand left on mine but the gap between us grows even wider. “What?”
“Did you think that was supposed to make it all better? What daughter doesn’t need her mother? I always needed you, but I never wanted to be a burden to you because you were always wrapped up in what Ri needed. I never hated you or her for that; it just was what it was, but your solution for our lack of a bond was to make me feel less than just so I would finally lean on you? And then you sit here and you say that with your whole chest like it’s okay and you think I’m gonna forgive you just like that?” She’s got me fucked up if she thinks we’re about to hug it out like a happy family.
A tear pools in the corner of her eye, but she dabs it with a napkin before it can fall. My dad rubs circles on her back but grabs my hand under the table. I appreciate him for being able to remain neutral. I don’t expect him to leave his wife out to dry when she’s crying in the middle of a restaurant, but I do need to feel heard by at least one parent right now and as always, he delivers.
My mom chokes out a sob as she tries to get her next words out. “Baby girl. I am so sorry. I’ve gone about this all wrong.”
“Umm, hi. I’m sorry but are you ready to place your order?” our server says, startling all of us. She looks uncomfortable, knowing she’s interrupted a tense moment. My mom swipes at her eyes, trying her best to hide her tears.
“That’s okay. I’m actually not staying,” I declare. I have to get out of here before the weight of my mom’s betrayal fully hits me. For years, I wondered why my mom thought less of me. Why I could never do anything right in her eyes, but in actuality she was just willing to rip my confidence to shreds to make herself feel better about not being there for me the way she should’ve when I was a kid.
My mom tries to protest my leaving, but I nod at our server and she takes the opportunity to run from our table.
“You don’t have to leave, Janelle. We can sit and talk through this.”
