I’m surprised by the follow-up—does she really want to know? Even before the center, she never talked to me about any relationships, which I took to mean they were forbidden. Add on to that the fact that I met Amari in a detention center, and that I was lying to my mom for months about being in contact with her.
“Do you really want to know, or is this going to backfire on me?” I ask.
She chuckles. “Yeah, we should talk first,” she says, and then, “yes, I do want to know.”
“Okay.”
“But I’m going to ask you to try and let your guard down so you can really hear me.”
“I don’t have my guard up,” I say automatically.
“You always do,” she says, “and I don’t blame you.”
I’m suddenly aware of how fast my heart is beating. I lean back in my seat to calm down. “Then maybe, I don’t know… but I’ll try?”
“That’s good enough,” she says, pulling into a space in front of the bakery.
I start to open the door but she stops me.
“Before we get out, I want to start by saying something I know I haven’t said often enough.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
I look down at my thighs because I don’t know how to look at her. I don’t think she’s ever apologized to me before—not for real, full in the face, with so much meaning behind it that I know she meansfor everything.
“Are you listening, Jasmine?” she asks, putting her hand on top of mine. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
A tear hits the top of her hand and she uses the other to lift my head. I’m surprised I even have tears left at this point.
“I had no idea what I was really signing you up for, even when you tried to tell me. That’s no excuse, I feel horrible. I always wondered if there was something else I should have done. When I saw you at the police station, I was so afraid that it was already too late to steer you back in the right direction. The system took over and I told myself I didn’t have a choice. They talked aboutcorrective actionand I just went along with it. I thought… I convinced myself it was for the best. But I should’ve at least tried. I should’ve fought for you,” she says. Her voice breaks and I look up to see tears in her eyes.
“I wish you’d told me all this sooner,” I say. “I was so convinced you thought I was bad, that it was all my fault. Some nights I thought… I thought you were happy to get rid of me.”
“Oh, Jasmine. When you left, itguttedme. I cried most of the nights you were at Guiding Hearts.”
“You did? Even though I messed up while I was in there?”
“Yes, I felt so guilty that I was sleeping in my own bed when you couldn’t. The thought of you in a place withbars… After a while I had to convince myself that you were fine so I didn’t lose my mind. And I know that put a strain on us because whenever we spoke, I glossed over things when I was just trying not to remind you of your situation.”
“It felt like you didn’t care,” I say, “like you were just moving on with life since you got me out of the way. That’s kind of why I started going downhill—I figured everybody forgot about me. I didn’t know you were having a hard time too.”
My mom rubs my hand reassuringly. “I could never move on without you, Jasmine. And knowing I put you somewhere like that has brought me so much shame. I didn’t ask you to lie only for your own sake—part of that was for my own. After seeing what it’s done to you, I just… I failed big time,” she says, choking up again.
I rub her hand this time. “I don’t know if I gave you much of a choice, Mom.” I pause before breaking the silence with a question that’s been on my mind. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything, honey,” she says.
“Are you ashamed that people know about me now?”
She takes a moment to think before she answers, and it makes me nervous. I don’t know how I’ll handle her answer if it’s yes.
“I’m not ashamed that people know. I’m ashamed that I cared more about what people would think about you than what lying would make you think about yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your dad and I were so young when we had you. I don’tregret it for a second, but I always wanted you to have a bigger life than I had. I worried that if everyone knew where you’d been, you’d miss out on all the opportunities our new life here has afforded us—opportunities I never had. But I realize now that by asking you to lie, I made you feel like your experiences are something to be ashamed of, and that’s not how I want you to see yourself in the world.”
“I know you were just trying to protect me, Mom,” I say. It’s what she’s always tried to do, in her own way. “It felt good to leave my mistakes behind and have a fresh start, even if it wasn’t real. But I can’t hide from my past anymore, and I don’t want to.”
I think about what Travis said, that I was the only person who had the power to talk about my experiences. The center doesn’t define me, but it is part of my history—a part of me.
