“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. This is—” I let out a breath.
“Riley, Mom tormented us the moment we hit puberty.She’s broken both of us down. I know this is going to be hard. I’ve been in your shoes. But it needs to be done.”
I nod vigorously. “It needs to be done.”
Me: Meet me at the diner at 12
Mom: I can't do 12. I can do 2.
Me: I'll be at the diner at 1150. If you aren't there by 1230, then I'm leaving. You want to talk, meet me there at 12.
It's12:01 p.m. when I check my phone. There's no text from Mom, but one from Ellie and Hailey. After I texted Mom, I told Ellie what was happening. She knows this is a big deal, and it means a lot for her to give me encouraging words.
If Mom wants me to stay in her life, then she will need to consider what I ask of her. If she doesn't, it will be tough, but I’ll need to set even stronger boundaries. And I need to stick to them.
It's 12:05 p.m. when the door opens. My heartbeat picks up when Mom walks into the diner, with her large sunglasses concealing her emotions. Her gold bracelets clink against one another as she approaches. She plops her purse on the empty chair between us and sits down.
She looks like the divorce didn't affect her, like it's any other day, and she's meeting me for our usual lunch.
"Thanks for coming," I say, my nerves getting the best of me as I rub my palms on my jeans.
Mom lifts her sunglasses up, pushing them through herthick, blonde hair. "Well, when my daughter threatens me to come here at noon, it's hard to ignore that."
I clench my hands into fists under the table. My nails pinch into my skin. "I didn't threaten you."
"Then what do you call what you did then? Hm?" She puts her arms on the table and clasps her hands together. One arched eyebrow raised.
I clear my throat and ignore her question; I'm not here to take a verbal beating from her.
"I've asked you to meet me here because I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Can I get a coffee first?" She lifts her hand and gestures to the teenage waitress. "Hi, I need a coffee. Just black. No cream or sugar."
The server doesn't bother to write it down but gives her a smile and grabs a coffee pot. Mom doesn't say anything until her mug is full and we sit there in uncomfortable, strangling silence.
She takes a sip and scrunches her nose. "This coffee has tasted the same since the place opened. That's why I stopped coming here for coffee."
I waste no time and get straight to the point. “I’m just going to cut to the chase. If you want to continue to have a relationship with me, then you need to go to therapy.”
Control your breathing, Riley. It's fine. This is your mom, and if she really loves you and wants a relationship with you, she will do it.
Hopefully.
Mom raises her eyebrows, almost appearing offended, as if I told her the blonde in her hair makes her look pale.
"I'm not saying this to hurt your feelings. You haven't treated us the way a mother should. You aren't..." I swallow my nerves. "You aren't caring toward us. You never were.You've talked down to us and made us feel like we were never good enough."
She sits back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest, and stares at me. "This is your father’s doing, isn't it?"
I close my eyes and shake my head. "No, Mom. This is coming from me. Your daughter, who doesn't want to lose you. But you will lose me if you don't realize how badly you're hurting me. You've already lost Hailey. Dad isn't in the picture. Do you really want to be alone?"
"The only person who should be going to therapy is your father. You don't know what I had to deal with when it comes to that man. He was never around." She flicks her hand in the air. "Always working."
"Yeah, to provide for us because you were a stay-at-home mom.” I lean across the table. “And there isn’t anything wrong with that, but you can’t use that as an excuse."
"Not by choice. I would much rather work than stay home. You know how lonely you get when you don't have adults to talk to?"
"You had your friends," I say a little too loudly.
