“Well, I am in love, but now I’ve ruined it. Actually, you had a hand in that. Where the hell are you? In my apartment? I want you gone. Seriously.” My throat was scratchy and my body as cold as ice. I was dead on the inside.
“Charleston, do you ever wonder why you’re named after the city where I met your dad? He was a fling, a guy I met and then decided to tag along with for a while. He was going to Chicago and I’d never been, so I thought why not. Turns out, he’d knocked me up that night we met in Charleston. So, that’s you. And that’s me. My life after you.”
Unable to believe what I was hearing, I swallowed and squeezed my eyes shut.
If I’d thought I was dead moments before, I was six feet under now. Nothing like being twenty-nine when you first find out you weren’t wanted.
She thinks I’m a mistake, that I’m the reason why she couldn’t do what she wanted.
The waitress didn’t ask; she just placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of me and patted me on the shoulder.Bless her.I wound my stiff fingers around the mug and let the warmth seep into me.
“Mom, don’t. I can’t.”
“No, you think what I wanted was all frivolous, but it’s what I wanted. And then I had a kid who was just like her dad, smart and goal-oriented, and I was forced to play the role of soccer mom. Why? Because my mom told me to. She saidyou have a daughter now... blah, blah. When she died, I said screw it. Time for me to be me and you to be you. You want success, six figures, you get a man in New York. I want to hit the road and go to concerts, and the messed-up part of me can’t do that until you do what I know you want.”
She’s crazy.
“Honestly, I don’t know what you’re going on about,” I told her. “It feels disengaged. If you want to be free, you don’t have to finish me off like some project.”
“Yes, I do, and then I can be free and live with no regrets. Your dad will be happy. He wouldn’t want you shacked up with some guy—a music guy, no less, from Cali.”
How did I not see any of this coming?
“I have to go, Mom. I can’t do this.”
I disconnected the call and took a twenty from my clutch. Leaving it on the table, I stood and left.
Not sure whether I could face my mom if she was still at my place, I turned the other direction from home and walked. The rain barely cleansed me from the shame and guilt I felt for giving in to my mom rather than doing what I knew was right.
That was for sure, and I couldn’t deny it. No matter how I twisted or turned my words, being a writer wasn’t going to help me this time.
