That would be wholly inaccurate; my entire being revolted at the question.
Before I can respond, she continues."I know you don't want to talk about it.You've shut down this conversation every time I've brought it up.I see the look in your eyes, Mom.But I…" she drops her head, shaking it and shrugging."I just…I have questions only you can answer, and I…Ineedyou to talk about it."A long pause, and then, her voice thick with emotion: “Please, Mom.”
"I hear you," I say, keeping my tone carefully neutral."Just…just give me a second, okay?"
She nods."If you need time, I can wait—I’ve waited this long, after all.I just need you to understand that I needsomeanswers, atsomepoint."
I pat her thigh, shoot her a small, tense smile."Before I say anything else, I just want to say I'm…I dunno.Impressed, I suppose, at how maturely you articulated yourself."
She rolls a shoulder, visibly uncomfortable, and then pulls out her phone and starts scrolling—a not-so-subtle signal that she's willing to wait for me to gather my thoughts.I'll never be ready to talk about it—abouthim.My daughter has questions and deserves answers, however, ready or not, like it or not.
"Let's go sit on the couch," I tell her."Or better yet, c'mon, follow me."I grab our favorite blanket—heavy, silky soft, and ultra-cozy for long Alaskan winter nights—and head out onto the back deck.
The stars are truly breathtaking.It’s the kind of sight you never, ever get used to.It helps that we live a few minutes outside town, and that Tomlin Falls has regulations intended to minimize light pollution.
Mal and I snuggle up together on the wicker outdoor couch and pull the blanket up to our chins.It's after seven in the evening, so it's dark out, but still too early for the Northern Lights—another thing you never really become inured to, unless you're some kind of soulless monster who doesn't appreciate natural beauty.
I mentally gird myself."I don't really know where to start, so I guess just ask your questions, honey."
"Who was he?What was he like?Why did you break up?Why did he leave?Why haven't I ever gotten so much as a birthday card from him?"
I laugh—it's bitter, cynical."Right into the deep end, huh?Okay."I swallow hard."His name is Kevin Ellis-Baker."
She blinks."Ellis-Baker, hyphenated?"
I nod."Yup.Middle name Conrad, if you must know.Kevin Conrad Ellis-Baker.He was born and raised in Fairbanks.His father was an accountant, and his mother a third-grade teacher.He went to U-A Fairbanks and graduated with honors with a degree in accounting.He's a forensic accountant, actually, which just means he's really good at math and figuring out when and how people cheat at their finances."
Mallory snickers."Well, I clearly didn't inherit my math skills from him."
I cackle."Unfortunately for you, no, you didn't."My mirth fades fast."What was he like?At first, he was different than what I was used to.Gentle.Nice.Articulate.Paid attention to me.Home a lot, had regular hours."
Mal absorbs this."I'm sorry, but…what?This raisessomany questions."
"Ehhhhboy," I say it in a joking, nasally tone."Okay, hit me."
"If all of that was different from what you were used to…"
"I don't talk about my past very much, because it's…well, it's not my favorite subject.I like to think that my life only really started when I had you.Um…" I wiggle a hand out from under the blankets to scratch my nose." I guess I'll have to give you some quick background on your mother.I grew up in a town even smaller than Tomlin Falls, north of Fairbanks.It was even farther from civilization than we are.”
She looks positively horrified."But…why?"
I laugh."Why does anyone end up anywhere, Mal?Life.Circumstances.My dad drove big rigs for a logging company and got transferred up there, and Mom went with him.Dad was an abusive asshole, apparently, so Mom left him.She never had enough money to go anywhere, so we just stayed, even after Dad got a job down in Oregon."I shrug.“He left when I was…four?Five?”
"Oh.Okay."
"Mom was a waitress at a diner.She worked twelve-hour shifts seven days a week.Smoked two packs a day, drank herself to sleep every night, and hadterribletaste in men, a feature she passed on to me, unfortunately."
"Was she mean?"
"Oh, god no.Mom was sweet as sugar, she was just …tired.Exhausted by life.She drank to get to sleep and forget the shit hand she'd been dealt.She was always very loving with me."I smile a little, remembering her."I was obsessed with pancakes when I was little.She'd make big batches of batter and keep it in the fridge, and she'd make me piles of silver dollar pancakes every morning.She wanted so badly to make up for the fact that my father was a fuckstick and we lived where we did, so she worked her ass off and saved and scraped so she could put me into figure skating lessons."
Mal snickers."A fuckstick, huh?"
"I honestly don't remember much about him.Vague memories of a big, bushy-bearded man being angry and violent.Lots of yelling at Mom.She gave back as good as she got, though.Never took it lying down and didn't take it for long."
"So absent men is a family tradition."
"Sadly, yes.I think it was true for Mom, too."
