“I’m good, just heading home before practice. Is everything okay?”
“I’m okay, don't worry. I just wanted to call and talk to you about something, but I need you to promise you won’t be upset with me.”
Panic instantly rushes through me, what could she have possibly done now? Why would I be upset with her?
I realize that maybe driving while having this conversation probably isn't the best idea, so I do the safe thing and keep my car in park.
“What is it mom?” I ask, brushing my hand over my face.
“Your father called-”
“No” I say, cutting her off.
She’s silent for a second, probably contemplating whether or not she wants to have this argument with me. We both know she isn't going to win. My father is a piece of shit, he hasn’t been part of my life for a very long time, I don’twanthim to be part of it. “You haven’t even heard what I have to say!” she finally protests.
“I know what you’re going to say. He wants to talk or meet me or whatever, and I don’t want to.”
“He’s been very insistent on wanting to figure things out with you. I think he means it hon.”
“He also meant it when he was beating you bloody on a regular basis.” I regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. My mom doesn’t deserve to be ridiculed, I just don’t understand how she can possibly still see the good in him after all he’s done.
Ten Years Ago
He’s drunk again, I can hear him yelling as I try to drown out the sound by putting my hands over my ears. I hear my heart beating while I hide in the corner of my room, trying to forget that any of this is happening.
Why does he come home like this? Why does she try to calm him down? Why won’t she just leave?
I don’t like any of this. I don’t like hearing them scream at one another.
There’s a loud smash, followed by more of my fathers yelling. I jump in place when I hear the fridge door slam closed.
My mom needs me. I need to be brave.
I run downstairs, instantly met with my mom on her knees, blood dripping from her lip and a fresh bruise forming on her left eye. She looks up to me while my fathers back is turned, ‘go hide’ she mouths to me.
Present
I never liked hiding from my father while he hurt my mom, I also didn’t like when she would act like she was in a happy marriage. She would always cover up her bruises, hide the cuts, smile and laugh when surrounded by her friends and family.
No one ever noticed, no one ever asked, no one ever cared.
When I turned sixteen, everything changed. I grew, I got bigger –stronger– and returned the favour one night when he was upset over something at work. He always took it out on her, and I just snapped. I had enough.
I remember begging her to leave after that, begging her to get us out and save us. Then for the first time in my life… she listened to me. She saved us. My mom left my dad right there and then, taking me to my grandma’s and figuring out where to go from there.
“I’m sorry, but he really has changed. He’s sober now, he’s cleaned up his life and wants a relationship with his son.”
I hate this, I hate this more than anything… but I love my mom and I want to do right by her. If she wants me to try and have a relationship with the man who made her life hell —if she can forgive him— then maybe I can at least think about it.
“I can’t promise anything, but I’ll take some time to think it over” I tell her.
“Thank you honey, I love you. Say hi to Nicholas for me.”
“I love you too.”
The line disconnects and I slowly bring the phone down from my ear, placing it on the seat next to me. “Fuck” I scream, slamming my fists into the steering wheel.
fourteen
