“No. You need toleave.As in permanently, get out of my home.”
She freezes.
I watch her back as I pull out the cell phone from my work bag. I place the phone on the counter.
She slowly turns her head. “What is this little tantrum about?”
“A tantrum was when I was five and I cried and fell out on the floor because my mother was once again leaving me with a babysitter I didn’t know. A tantrum is when I was seven and I cried to my teacher all throughout recess so she wouldn’t send me outside because the kids liked making fun of my dirty clothes and unkempt hair because my mother never had time to take care of either of those things. I was eight when I stopped having tantrums and learned to do my own laundry, braid my own hair, and babysit myself.This,right now, is not a tantrum. This is me kicking you out.”
My mother’s eyes close to slits as the anger rises on her face. “So, I wasn’t the best mother in the world.I’m sorry.But I never kicked you out of my home. That’s what you’re doing now, Janine? Kicking your own mother out?”
I nod. “Hell yes. You never kicked me out because you never had the chance to. If it wasn’t for me, after I turned thirteen, if I hadn’t of worked and saved and begged our landlords, we wouldn’t have had places to live. I left at eighteen and never looked back. Now, you show up on my doorstep and overstay your welcome and I’m supposed to feel guilty? I don’t think so.”
“I told you I’m just working some things out. Trying to get some things situated with a job I have waiting on me. I’ll be gone then. Where am I supposed to live in the meantime?”
“Have you thought of giving Matthew a call?”
Her mouth flops open and shuts a few times before actual words come out. “Why would I call that boy?”
“I don’t know. It’s almost the same question I asked this afternoon when I saw his name appear on what I thought was my phone.” I hold up the phone that I’d placed on the counter. “Turns out, you were right before. We do have the same cell phone. Case and everything. On my way to work this morning, I accidentally picked up your phone instead of mine. I discovered it as soon as I got to work but couldn’t turn around so I figured I’d give it to you once I got home.
“Then this afternoon I see a missed call from a Matthew. Could’ve been a coincidence and not the same personIdated for years. But then I got to thinking about what he said when he confronted me last week in front of Angela’s bar. That it wasyouwho told him where I was going to be. Being the inquisitive person I am, I go to your text messages … and low and behold, turns out itisthe same Matthew. And I’m not the only woman in this family who knows about that funny shaped birthmark on the inside of this thigh.”
I lift an eyebrow, folding my arms over my chest. My stomach begins to feel queasy just thinking of the woman who gave birth to me and my ex.
“Janine, listen, it was only one time, and—”
“I don’t give a shit,” I snap, holding my hand in the air. “As far as I’m concerned, Matthew is old news … and so are you. You need to pack up and get out. Now.”
“I-I can’t. Wha—”
“Did you not hear me the first three times? Either you make the choice to pack up your belongings neatly and leave, or I’m tossing them out of the window and calling the police to have you escorted out.”
“You wouldn’t—”
“I would, and don’t think I don’t know about the warrant for your arrest you’ve been hiding from. Which is the real reason you came to Williamsport, isn’t it? You were in Boston but so is the warrant.” I’d read that information in the text exchanges between her and Matthew as well. He was supposed to help her get the warrant erased or whatever.
“Get out.”
“Janine—”
“I’m not saying it again.” At this point, I wasn’t even angry. I was just done. I’d always suspected Matthew had cheated on me throughout our relationship, but to know that it had been with my own mother? That was something she and I could never come back from. My feelings for Matthew had died a long time ago. I was completely and utterly in love with another man now … and that was another story in and of itself. But I needed to tie up the loose ends with my mother. If she was willing to cross this line, who knew what other lines she would cross. I didn’t need that in my life. I was no longer a child dependent upon her for survival or emotional stability.
I remain standing by the kitchen counter as she packs up her belongings, eyeing me every now and again, seemingly hoping that I will change my mind. By the time she changes into a pair of jeans, sweater, and her coat, I move to the door to hold it open for her as she carries her bags out.
“Here’s your phone.” I hand it to her. “Where’s mine?”
“On the top of the refrigerator.”
I don’t even ask what the hell it was doing up there. Retrieving my phone, I enter the passcode to open it. That likely is the reason she placed it on the top of the fridge, once she realized she couldn’t get into it.
“Next time you should try putting a passcode on your own phone when you have such private messages saved.”
“Jani—”
I close the door in her face, not waiting for whatever she’s about to say.
“You’ll regret this!” she yells through the door. “I’m your mother.”
