Page 34 of Hiding from Hope

“I saw the way you’ve looked at that girl since you were twenty-two. I know you were both kids when you met, but you’ve always had a connection; it was clear as day. I just wasn’t sure you were ever going to do anything about it. Finally, that wench, Jen—”

“Alright, that’ll do,” I scold her and get up from the table to pace. To do something with the weird energy coursing through me.

“I’m just saying,” she lowers her voice and rounds the counter, stopping in front of me and resting her hands on my shoulders. Her blue eyes roam mine, and she gives me a pitying smile. The same one that used to send Addison into a rage. “I’m glad you’re finding someone who cares about you. I know you loved Jenny. But you were both so young, and she wasn’t ready to be thinking about anyone other than herself. I’m not about to fault a woman for chasing her career—” I give her an incredulous look because, up until recently, she most definitely would fault a woman–her daughter, Addison, in fact–for such things. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m still growing. I’m… doing better.” Glad for the pivot opportunity, I shrug her off and head for the kitchen, trying to busy myself by cleaning up and putting things away.

“Speaking of, have you caught up with Addison recently?” I glance up at her and she nods, a sad look on her face.

“We’re doing much better. I have a lot of ground to make up for. I… well, I caused more damage than I thought I had.” The sadness in her tone cracks open a slither in my chest.

“You’ll get there. She loves you.” She nods.

“Where’s Riley tonight?” The sarcastic comments and dramatic storytelling the only things missing from this small apartment. Even though Riley was actively trying to find anywhere else to live, she hadn’t managed to nail down a roommate.

“She’s out with friends. I presume she’ll stumble in at some point later.” She heaves a sigh, more of exhausted effort than anything else. Riley is a free spirit. I prayed for anyone that attempted to tame her in the future.

“Have you reached out to your father?” What the fuck?

“Uh, no. Why the fuck would I?”

“Jessie! You might be thirty-three, but I’m still your mother!” she chastises me and I send her a guilty look.

“I’m sorry, but why? Why would I do that?”

“He is still your father, Jessie. Despite his faults, he helped raise you. You are a part of him.” I scoff and shake my head, trying to bite down on the colorful words I’d like to throw his way.

“I love you, Mom, but please, don’t push this point. That chapter of our lives is done. I have nothing to say to him.” Especially not after the way he was with Addison. Watching her smack him in the jaw was the highlight of the entire shitshow. A warm flame of pride lit in my chest as I watched her defend herself, to fall into her fury, feel it and embrace it.

“I really hope you don’t ask Addy this shit when you see her.” She scoffs this time.

“I’m not that much of an idiot,” she says under her breath and it makes me chuckle. She brings her eyes to me and she laughs lightly, too.

“So, how come you haven’t invited the girls, too?” I ask. I’m aware my relationship with Mom is different to the girls, at least with Riley and Addison. They struggled with Mom, and maybe that was because Mom was going through her own shit toward the bitter end of her marriage, but I would have thought bridges would be made.

“I just wanted some time with my boy.”

“You know this is why they get pissy and call me the golden child?” I tease, and she slaps me on the chest.

“I love all my children equally. I also know that I haven’t been the best mother to my daughters, and they need more time. Space. Also, women can be horribly dramatic, and I like that you are honest with me.” I roll my eyes again, but refuse to put my two cents in. No point arguing.

“And speaking of honesty, tell me about you and Casey.”

“Nothing to tell. We’re just friends, Mom.” I sigh, and when I look at her, she is pulling the same look that says she knows more than she is letting on.

“What? I’m serious.”

“Mmhmm.” She shakes her head. “You lie just like your father,” she says under her breath, and some of that deeply buried fury rises to the surface at the hit of her words. I know she doesn’t mean it to cut, but it does all the same. Comparing me to that manipulative liar and cheat.

I will never be like him. Not in a million years.

I roll my shoulders and bite my lip to hold back words that would do nothing but cut.

“C’mon, let’s get this dinner on the table so we can eat, and you can talk to me about your day.” She changes the subject, and we finish up in the kitchen.

“Where the fuck is it?” I grumble, internally berating myself because I’m thirty-three and a fucking mess. I could have sworn I left my manuscript by this chair, and yet, it’s nowhere to be found. My phone pings from my pocket, distracting me from my manhunt.

That was accompanied by a picture of a cat riding a llama, and the laugh that tumbles out of me is directed more at her sending this than the random picture.

I shake my head and pocket my phone, returning to my search, just as it pings again. I plop myself on the reading chair and settle in for the slew of texts.

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