Page 17 of Taken With You

The doorbell rang again. I could hear her screaming on the other side.

“I will wake up your whole fucking neighborhood, young lady. Open this fucking door right now.”

I closed my eyes, counted to ten. I didn’t want to believe this was happening. That she was right outside my door. I didn’t want to wake up the whole neighborhood. I didn’t want this to be happening, but it wasn’t like I could stop it or simply will it away.

My past was here. I couldn’t hide from it anymore.

I went to the door, tugging my sweatshirt over my hips. I looked like hell, but I didn’t care. Yet, I did. What would she say when she looked at me?

Would it matter?

I didn’t know, but I would find out soon.

I opened the door, flipping each lock carefully as I did.

I could have called the cops, alerted my security, but I didn’t. This was my mother. And even though she was yelling and cursing at me, I somehow still hoped that things would be different.

Or maybe I knew that if I didn’t get this over with now, she would keep coming back.

“It’s about fucking time.” She stormed past me, pushing my shoulder as she did. “Looks like you’ve done well for yourself. Not my taste, but it’s fine.” She looked me up and down, staring. “Good God. You’re never going to keep Coby if you dress like that. What the hell are you wearing? Jesus, that sweatshirt’s hiding…what? The extra twenty pounds you’ve added? You’re such a fat-ass. You always were. If I hadn’t kept on you when you were little, you never would have gotten Coby. And all your weight had to go to your hips and your thighs. Never to your tits. You know, that comes from my mother-in-law. Daddy’s mama. She is such a lard-ass. Constantly having to wear sweats and leggings and stuff because she can’t fit into her leathers anymore. God. If you don’t take care of yourself, Coby’s never going to take you back. You better work on that. I only say this because I love you. Us girls need to watch our weight. You can’t let yourself be too big. Fat kills. It keeps men away.”

I just stood there, looking at her, wondering how in the hell this woman had raised me. Every single thing she said was wrong. I liked the way I looked. I was nowhere close to being what some might call overweight. And even if I was what some might classify as that, what the fuck ever?

As long as I was happy and took care of myself, fuck them. I had curves, and I liked them.

Jesus Christ.

“Why are you here?” I asked, surprised my voice was still steady.

“I’m here so you can do your duty.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “What do you mean?”

“Your daddy and I need a little help. It’s been a tough couple of months since I asked for anything…with what happened after you left. You know, the incident.”

I looked at her, not quite comprehending. I left when the cops raided both places looking for drugs. They’d found all of them, but only a few people had gone to jail. Coby being one of them. My father hadn’t. Neither had Mom.

“You need money,” I said, comprehending at last.

“Just a little. You know you owe us. For everything. We gave everything we ever had to get you where you are. You owe us for that, at least.”

“I went to school on my own. I took out loans and attended community college. I worked night and day to get myself through. I did this.”

“And you would have none of this if we hadn’t put clothes on your back and food in your belly as a kid. Don’t be such an ungrateful bitch.”

It didn’t surprise me that she kept calling me horrible names and degrading me even as she asked for things. That’s how Petal Brown was. There was no changing that.

Mom had been named after a flower her mother saw on her way to the hospital. Somehow, my mother had come out alive and healthy as a baby, at least according to my grandparents, even though Grandma had been high as fuck when she gave birth. Hence the name.

Petal had wanted to continue the tradition with names since you could find flowers in meadows. At least, that’s what she said. Dad told me it was because of where I was conceived, though he hadn’t used those words. No, he’d used ones far more crass.

Somewhere deep down, I truly hated my family. Or at least what they had become. I didn’t want to be a part of this. I wanted to be alone. In my own home.

The place this woman was currently tainting. I knew if I didn’t give her some money now, she wouldn’t leave.

Even if I told myself that I shouldn’t give her anything and hope that she never came back again, that wasn’t how things worked with her. She would stay, and she would make a scene, and she would find me at the bar or with my friends or somewhere else later, and it would be worse.

I didn’t want things to be worse.