Page 103 of Lost In London

I waited until our waiter left after bringing out our food. I even prayed over our food but neither of us touched our plates. Unresolved issues robbed of us our appetites.

“What happened in Mississippi changed me.” Her shoulders and eyes dropped at my revelation. “I told you that someone had hurt me and your answer was to beat me for what they did. I was called a liar, a drama queen, and an attention seeker by everyone. Do you know how that made me feel? Not only wasn’t my father, who promised to always protect me, wasn’t there. But my big brother, my other protector, lied on me. Then you, my mother, beat me for it.” My hands trembled, picking up my glass of water.

My tears hadn’t peeked their ugly head but my body was quivering in anxiety.

“Then it’s like you started to spoil me out of guilt but at the same time faulting me for being spoiled. I was acting out because I was hurt. The attention I wanted was for you to acknowledge that I was worth an apology.” I looked around as my voice raised a little. “When your sisters come around and say those harmful things about me, when have you ever defended me? You let them talk to me like I’m a dog and then when I do something you don’t like, you too talk down to me. You call them to justify your hurtful words and get someone on your side even when you know that you’re wrong. Then you wanna shove the Bible in my face like you’re some damn saint.” I sat back pinching the bridge of my nose, legs shaking under the table.

“Mom, I know I wasn’t an easy child to raise. I know that, but you didn’t make it easier. Outside of that, my childhood was perfect but the gray areas hurt a lot and it wasn’t until these last couple of years when I’ve been trying to understand my actions and anger I realized where they rooted from. I love you with my whole heart but until you learn to respect me and understand that I’m a grown woman who doesn’t have to sit in rooms where I’m not welcomed, I’m not going to.” I motioned for the waitress and lifted my plate. “Can I get this warmed up please?”

“How about I do you one better and get you a brand new plate?” Oh, she was getting a nice tip.

“I’d love that. Do you mind taking my mo…” Before I could reach for my mother’s plate she bolted from the table rushing inside, probably going to the bathroom.

“Is she okay?”

I doubt it. She just got told about herself.

“Her stomach is a little sensitive from the prune juice she drank this morning.”

Our waitresses’ eyes widened in mirth. “I completely understand.” She tried not to laugh. “I’ll bring out a new plate for her too.”

“Thank you so much.”

While I sat there waiting I checked a few emails, responded to a few texts, and checked my social media pages. Quincey had sent me a few locations he wanted to look at for our Plant-N-Grow program kicking off around spring break. The hardest part was finding vacant land with good soil and close to the areas his students lived in. Everything that we found that had the right amount of land and rich soil was out west in the Sawgrass/Southwest Ranches area. Too far for inner city kids to travel. If anything we would have to purchase a lot and dig up the old soil and nurture it. Not hard, just tedious work.

“Here you go.” My omelet and Million Dollar bacon were steaming hot. “Should I go check on her?”

I politely waved her off. “She’s perfectly fine.” A little butt hurt, but my mother would live to see another day.

“I’ll keep her plate on the warmer until she comes out.” I appreciated her concern.

“That would be perfect. Thank you again.” As soon as she walked off I said a quick prayer and started stuffing my face. The bacon was so good that I started humming and dancing in my seat.

“Food must be good.” My mom finally emerged from her place of hiding. There was no indication that she shed one tear. Eyes were no longer red and puddling with a river of tears. Visine eye drops wiped all the evidence away. She reapplied her light makeup, looking glamorous per usual. “Oh, thank you.” She even smiled when her plate was brought out.

I won’t lie. I felt lighter after saying what I had to say. Did I leave out recent events that have transpired in my life? Yes, and for a good reason. I wasn’t willing to gamble my vulnerability and she reacted how she’s reacted in the past. That chance wasn’t something I wanted to take.

If she blamed me back then only God knows what she’d say now and I wasn’t about to find out today.

I couldn’t sacrifice my peace for the unknown.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice quaked. “I’m really sorry for how I’ve treated you. I…” she dabbed her eyes and I sat there eating my food. “Punishing you the way I did back then was my way of trying to make you strong.” That’s some bullshit but whatever. “Make you strong in the sense of not becoming weak when…”

No ma’am.

No sir.

“Your reasoning isn’t needed.” I made sure to lift my glasses so she could see my honest feelings. “You haven’t said much but what you’ve already admitted has me ready to walk away and never talk to you again.” Her bottom lip trembling, eyes dropping with each quake of her body, I was immune. “I’ve healed the way I needed to for me. Sharing with you how I felt and where my attitude comes from was to enlighten you on where I stand and that’s on this side of happiness. Your family, I want nothing to do with them. None of them, not even your disrespectful sisters. Daddy and I are rebuilding at the pace I’m comfortable with and the same is available for you but on my terms and that means if you can’t respect the way I’m living my life, then we’ll be the best postcard relatives.”

Was I being unreasonable?

At first, I thought I was but hearing that snippet of an apology changed my mind quick. I was willing to start brand new… on my terms. I was willing for us to have a relationship… on my terms. I couldn’t control what people said about me but I could control how they treated me and that came in the form of not giving them access to me.

If my mother couldn’t stop looking at my past and not at all acknowledging my bright future, then I had to do what was best for me.

“Before I drop you home, do you mind going with me to this Black-owned candle shop I found?” She asked, waiting for me to finish signing the credit card receipt.

Brunch was on me but she could buy me some candles.

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