Chapter 36 - Becca - Meet My Mother
Ipick at a loose string hanging from the hem of my skirt as Johnny turns onto my mother’s street. I don’t know why I ever agreed to this. I’ve put it off for the last couple of months, not wanting to come down from the high that finally exorcising Milo Mathews from my brain had left me with. I relive that night at the diner every night in my dreams, and every night, when I tell Devon that Milo’s not worth saying anything more to, it feels just as good as it did that first time.
Freddy peeks out from beneath my sheer tights, and instead of anger at Milo, I just feel grateful that Uncle Silas gave me such a cool ass tattoo. I don’t know if I would have gotten tattooed if I hadn’t been scarred as a child, but my life is what it is, and I love the tattoos on my skin.
I’m also incredibly thankful to Johnny for the tattoo he gave me. That piece of swirling horror villain artwork has been a catalyst in my life. And so has Johnny, himself. Together, they’ve helped me put Milo in the past and leave him there.
But now, on the way to my mother’s house, I feel like I’m moving backwards in time. Back to when Milo, and what he did, had such an effect on me.
My mother has a way of making me feel guilty for things that aren’t my fault. For things that happened so long ago, there’s no way for me to do anything about them. I know it’s not right that she blames me for the accident when I was four-years-old, but if it wasn’t my fault, whose fault was it? I was the one who pulled that pot down on me, so technically, it was my fault.
“I can hear the gears in your head turning from here,” Johnny says with a soft smile. “Everything okay?”
And then there’s Johnny. I haven’t told him the extent of my mother’s behaviour toward me. She’s usually better when there’s company, but who can say what she’ll do in front of Johnny tonight? She’s already mad that I skipped out on the last date she made for me, and she blames Johnny.
She’s been leaving me endless messages, all of them with a similar theme.‘Johnny is too good for you.’ ‘He deserves better.’ ‘You’re not attractive enough to be with him.’ ‘Don’t mistake his pity for real affection, Rebecca.’ ‘Why would you want to burden him for the rest of his life?’ ‘He needs someone who is more attractive, more like him.’I haven’t answered a call from her in weeks, except the last one, when we planned this dinner.
“Hey,” Johnny reaches over and grabs my hand. He’s pulled over and parked at the curb a few houses down from my mother’s place. “We don’t have to do this, you know. We can cancel and do it another time.”
Johnny doesn’t know about the messages my mother has left me. He has no idea what he’s in for. This has been coming since the day they met at my apartment. It was inevitable.
And it brings us one step closer to the end of our fake relationship.
Am I ready for that?
“No, it’s fine,” I finally say. “We need to get this over with. But can you promise me something?”
“Of course,” he says without hesitation. “Whatever you need.”
“Just… whatever my mother says, please don’t let it change your mind about me.”
Johnny looks at me curiously. He turns my face toward him. “Nothing she could say would change my opinion of you, Becca. Nothing.” He leans forward and places a gentle kiss on my lips, lingering just a moment.
The way he looks at me, I can almost believe he could feel something real for me. Could he love me enough that my hideous scars wouldn’t matter? Could anyone?
According to my mother, the answer is no. She wants me to settle for a loveless relationship with a loser of her choosing.
I may not be able to keep a man like Johnny, but I refuse to settle for anyone my mother chooses. I’d rather be alone. Just like she always told me I would be.
I take a deep breath and release it slowly. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”
We untangle our hands and get out of the car. Johnny joins me on the sidewalk and pulls me into a hug.
“Everything will be fine,” he says, kissing me on the forehead. “Now, let’s go convince your mom that we’re madly in love.”
If only it were that easy.
* * *
“I was wondering how long it would take you two to get out of the car,” mom says, giving me a once over, her look of disgust telling me the skirt I’ve worn is not to her liking. She turns around abruptly to lead us from the front door and further into the house. “I was sure the neighbours would call the police.”
“Your neighbours know what I look like. I think they would know not to call the police.”
Mother leads us into the living room, where she offers wine. Johnny and I each take a glass, even though I know for a fact we’d both rather have a beer. Maybe we can go see his dad after this and explore that beer cave a little more. I’m sure Dennis has found some great new brews since I was last over there.
“Yes, well. From a distance, the two of you look… well, you know.”
“Like a brilliant photographer and an award-winning musical artist?” Johnny says, his voice dripping with sweetness. “That’s kind of you, Mrs. Morris, but I don’t get recognized as often as one would think.”
