“Denise, I’m not bringing my daughter into that . . . horror I grew up in. She’s sweet and innocent and I don’t want her tainted by grandparents who don’t want to love her.” My fingers white-knuckled the chair now in anger. I couldn’t and wouldn’t set foot in that house with Victoria.
“They do . . . hold on.” Denise muffled the phone, and garbled words came through the receiver. I fell into a chair, my legs quivering and my breathing shallow. For years, I’d been completely on my own, no one to depend on, no one in my life other than my daughter. How could I ever forgive them for that?
“Mom, take the phone.” My heart thundered then stopped in my chest.
“Talk to her.” My sister’s distant whisper was followed by more mumbling I couldn’t decipher.
“Hello?” My body folded, my head crashing into my knees at the recognition of my mother’s voice. It’s what I heard on the days I came up short, when I’d play Tetris with my bank account and the one credit card I was allowed to manage the bills and keep a roof over our heads, and the nights I’d curl up in my bed alone, wondering how I’d do it the next day.
Can’t you do anything right?
Cooking school? Wow, that’s a big future.
You don’t even know your baby’s father? What kind of a whore doesn’t know her baby’s father? Get out!
Even without the usual malice in her tone, her voice cut through me like a knife.
“Mom,” I finally squawked out. “Merry Chris—”
The call disconnected, and I froze with the phone still attached to my ear. My mother hung up on me, refusing to speak . . . on Christmas Eve. My hands shook as a plethora of emotions rushed through me. Again. I put myself out there, right on the cutting slab, knowing the response I’d get but hoping for something different.
Your mother is supposed to love you or at least wish you a happy holiday. What was so wrong with me that she couldn’t? My hands shook as the walls seemed as if they were closing in on me. I had a good life now, or I was heading toward one. I even opened up to having friends, a . . . whatever Drew was, accepting Josh and Brianna as family. But the one thing I wanted, the one thing I yearned for my entire life, I’d never have. This wasn’t news but speaking to them brought it all to the surface and gave it an overwhelming permanence. Why did I reply to my sister’s text? Why did I put myself in this position? A full-blown panic attack filtered through my system and I needed to run. Where, I had no clue, but I needed to go somewhere. Victoria couldn’t see me upset, and even with the truce I’d made with Josh and Brianna, I couldn’t confide in them about this.
I raced to Victoria’s room and shoved my feet into my sneakers, moving so fast I almost tripped on the air mattress next to her bed.
“I need to run out,” I muttered, making no eye contact with anyone as I reached for my coat and scarf on the rack by the door.
“But Mommy, we still need to set cookies for Santa. Where are you going?” I winced at my daughter’s panicked voice but couldn’t turn around.
“I’ll be back.” I almost made it out the door when Josh’s hand gripped my bicep.
“What’s going on?” he whispered.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I clipped, resisting the urge to shake his grasp and call more attention to the awful state I was in.
He huffed and let go. “Be careful; it’s late. Victoria’s already worried about you.”
Staring straight ahead, I replied with a curt nod.
The sting from the frigid bite in the night air chilled me to the bone as I rushed to my car. I unlocked the doors and turned on the engine, cranking up the heat but unsure of where the hell to go. Then it happened, wetness streaked my cheeks as a new coating of snow gathered on the windshield. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of my chest, as this night was turning out to be some kind of bizarro Hallmark movie, one where the happy endingdidn’thappen. A white Christmas where the family didn’t take back their long-lost daughter with open arms. Instead, they shunned her and made sure she felt alone, because that’s exactly what she’d been her entire life. I touched my cheeks and glared at the tears on my fingers I could taste as they dripped down my face. She made me cry—with a phone call. I was that weak.
My body went on autopilot as I fumbled in my purse for my phone, pressing Drew’s number with a shaky finger.
“Hey, Caldwell. Happy almost Chris—”
“Drew,” my voice was gone, now just a barely audible whisper. If I spoke, I was terrified the sobs would rake through me and not stop. A lifetime of rejection barreled over me like a cannon and I couldn’t breathe.
“What’s wrong? What happened? Is Victoria okay?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. I . . .” I gulped, desperately trying to find the air to get this out without collapsing. What the hell was happening to me? “I spoke to my sister. She put my mother on the phone and she . . . she hung up, Drew. She wouldn’t even say Merry Christmas.”
“Where are you?”
“In my car in front of Josh and Brianna’s apartment. I can’t let Victoria see me like this, but I can’t move. Nine fucking years, Drew. Why does this still hurt so much? Why do I care? What’s so wrong with me that my own mother hates me?”
“Don’t you believe that for a second. Not one thing is wrong with you. What’s their address?” A door slammed followed by the revving of an engine.
“The corner of Fifty-Eighth Avenue, next to the highway. Drew, you don’t have to come—”
