“Can we not talk about this right now, Mom? Just tell me what you came down here for, so we can get this over with and you can be on your way.”
Her eyes narrowed. I’d awakened the sleeping lion for sure.
“I didn’t come here for anything, Cassie. I just wanted to check on you. Can I not do that?”
“Sure you can, but you’re barely clothed, it’s fifty degrees outside, and you’re telling me that you keep calling in sick to work. Plus, last week you called me asking for money. So excuse me for wondering if there’s something going on.”
“Nothing is going on,” she said, pushing her coffee mug back and almost sending it flying off the table.
As she extended her arms, her sleeves pulled back slightly. Just enough for me to see it.
I grabbed her wrist and held it in place against the table, forcing her to look down at what I had discovered.
“Track marks, Mom. Fresh ones. You’re not clean, and you came here for more drug money. Just admit it already!” The more I spoke, the angrier my voice got.
“You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? With your fancy house and your big business. Some of us didn’t get everything handed to us growing up like you did, Cassie,” she said, trying to defend herself any way she possibly could.
“Are you kidding me right now? I didn’t get anything handed to me. I barely made it out of my childhood alive—no thanks to you. You don’t know shit about how I survived and got out. You were never there!”
Deep down, I knew yelling wasn’t the solution to this problem, but I didn’t care. My mom needed the hard truth. She needed to know how I really felt—what growing up was actuallylike—not whatever delusional scenario she’d created to make herself feel better.
“Dad left when I was in kindergarten, and you stayed at your boyfriends’ houses more than you stayed at your own. I knew how to cook on the stove and get myself up for school by the time I was eight, because no one else was there to do it. So who the hell do you think handed me all of this? Not a fucking single person, Mom. Don’t ever tell me I gotanythinghanded to me growing up because, Lord knows, I sure as hell didn’t.”
She stood up abruptly, pulling her sleeve down to hide the secrets that had already been set free.
She didn’t respond. I figured she wouldn’t. When you were faced with the cold, hard truth, there was nothing you could say to make it better.
Without another word, she bolted out the door, across the sidewalk, and into her car before speeding off. There was no telling where she was headed. Probably to get high again.
Collapsing to the ground, I sobbed uncontrollably. On the outside, I had created this perfect persona: strong-willed, independent, successful. But on the inside, I was crumbling into tiny pieces. My dam had finally burst. The tears just kept coming. Years of frustration and anger finally boiled to the surface, spilling over with no end in sight.
After a few minutes, a knock on the front door forced me to come out of my saddened state.
“Not right now,” I whined, wiping the tears from my eyes and trying to look even half presentable. Because Jace was now standing at the front door of my coffee shop.
I sauntered over to the door, opening it reluctantly.
“What do you want?”
“Have you been crying?” he asked, eyes soft with concern.
“Yes, so go away before you make it worse.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Hell no. You wouldn’t understand half the shit I’m dealing with right now. You and your perfect fucking family. Why are you here anyways?” I asked a little more harshly than he deserved.
“I was going to grab a bite at Maggie’s, and when I walked by, I saw you lying on the floor through the window. I just wanted to check on you is all.”
“Well, I’m fine, thanks. Goodnight.” I attempted to close the door, but before it shut all the way, Jace used his good foot to stop it from closing.
“Cassie.”
“Jace.” I stared at him, wanting nothing more than this moment to be over with.
“I’m not leaving you here alone while you have actual tears falling down your face. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a piece of shit.”
The realization that this was probably the first time since my dad left that a man was concerned for my wellbeing made me start crying all over again.
