“Well, good thing we have a hundred acres of land and all night to figure it out. Now, just try. For me, Naomi, please try.”
There was a squeeze around my heart. An invisible string that only Finn controlled. “She hated me.”
“Hated you?” There wasn’t any judgment or disbelief in his voice, and that did wonders in terms of making me feel like I could share my truth. Most people would tell me she didn’t really hate me. They’d say that mothers couldn’t hate their children, as if they knew everything there was to know about life.
I shut my eyes for a second and nodded. “I wasn’t part of the plan. Mom got pregnant at seventeen and got kicked out of her house.”
“Must have been hard for both of you.”
My hands gripped the handle of the ax. “It was, but it didn’t have to be all the time.”
“How come?”
The ax was starting to feel lighter. I tested the weight in my hands, feeling the urge to draw back and hit something. So, I did. The metal slammed into the wood. Somehow, it didn’t make a dent, but it still made me feel better. Putting my negative energy into something helped my chest feel less tight.
Finn walked slowly, stopping when he was across from me.
“She didn’t accept help from anyone. Whenever her mom sent money, she burned the checks,” I said. “We lived off one meal a day for a year and she refused to cash the checks. She told me it was my fault we couldn’t use the money.”
Another swing. A small chunk of wood chipped off. I rolled back my shoulders and tried again.
“Whenever she did make money, she donated most of it to this religious group.” I huffed at the memory. “They told her she’d find happiness in the next life if she gave them everything in this one. Spoiler alert—they were scam artists. Even eleven-year-old me could figure that out.”
Finn nodded, remaining still and expressionless.
“So, for most of my life, she refused to smile. Said her happiness was in heaven because this earth was meant for suffering. She had to pay her dues and I…I was one of those dues. I was penance.”
His jaw tightened at my words. “She lived angry. And you live happy.”
“To show her it’s possible,” I said, anger coating every word. “If she’s watching from somewhere, I want her to see that everything she did to us was a waste. It’s vindictive of me, but I want to prove I can be content without anyone’s help. And I’m always trying to prepare for the possibility that I’ll…end up alone like she was. If I do, I want her to see that it’s possible not to waste your life away.”
Finn frowned. “But she wasn’t alone. She had you. Doesn’t sound like she appreciated it, but she wasn’t alone. You won’t be either.”
“You can’t guarantee that.” I hit the wood again. “A part of her is in me, and that part scares people away. I know I can get too talkative and smiley and it’s overwhelming.”
Finn shook his head, but I knew it was true.
“At this point, it’s my armor. I need to be my good thing in case it’s all I have left. My mom died angry—at me and the world. I can’t do that. I want to be happy. So, I stay happy to survive. Stay happy and push forward.”
He moved close to me, standing just out of arm’s reach. “Naomi, happiness will still exist in your darkness. You don’t have to push away the anger because you think it’ll consume you. You are not your mother. I’ve known you long enough to say with surety, anger will never consume you.”
My jaw tightened when he reached out to touch my arm. I wanted so much to believe him. So much to trust in what he told me. I sighed as he pulled me closer, so we were face to face. His hand tucked under my chin, holding me in place to look at him.
“Be everything,” he urged. “You can be everything. You’re avoiding anger because you want happiness, but in a way, you’re doing exactly what she did. Blocking away a whole other side of you.”
“What if it doesn’t stop? And I become like her, always upset?”
He shook his head. “You’d never become like her. I’ve seen how much you care about people. I’ve heard how excited gaming makes you and I’ve felt how warm it is to be in your presence. You’re always patient with people. You are bigger than one emotion.”
I let out a deep breath. “I hate that…I hated her. And loved her. That part makes me want to scream. She had so much control over my emotions, and she barely listened to what I had to say. I’m embarrassed that a woman who barely knew me can make me so mad in a heartbeat. Even now, an email sends me in a spiral. I should be better than this.”
Finn pulled me into his chest. I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tight. His shirt was damp with tears by the time I pulled away. Finn brushed at my cheeks, trying to help me clean up.
“Scream,” he dared.
I frowned. “What?”
“Right now. Don’t think about it. Just scream.”
