Page 44 of Catfish

Grabbing my suitcase, Mama and I make our way into her home. The light blue siding looks immaculate, fresh flowers are planted under brown mulch along with brand-new solar lights and clean windows.

“The house looks great.”

She holds the door open for me as she walks inside. “Doesn’t it, though?” She peers over her shoulder at me with a sly grin and strides through the family room. “Thirsty?”

I glance over the house that hasn't changed, won't change. Mama likes things a certain way, and that way doesn't alter or transform into anything else.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t have my next appointment until next month.” She places my things down at the edge of the hallway and continues into the kitchen. “Doctor Hemming said everything looked fine.”

“Oh, are you sure they want to wait a whole month? You said your last chemo appointment was tomorrow.”

“I’m sure...because I did it yesterday.”

“Wait, what?” My brows furrow. “Mama, I said I was going to go—”

“Rea Rea, I don’t want you to see me like that. And don’t worry so much, Doctor Hemming is impressed with the way things are going.” She pulls out a tin of coffee and starts making a pot while I’m inwardly scoffing and shaking my head.

How in the world can I not be worried about her? She’s the only thing I have in this world that’s within arm’s reach. Marty is striding along Europe somewhere, I can’t talk to him about the guilt I feel for the shit I’ve done.

She’s my sanity, the woman who raised me in a shithole and made sure I didn’t wind up dead.

“I did see someone yesterday, though, at my last appointment.”

I cross my arms along my chest. “The one you moved up on purpose?”

Mama perks a brow at me as she grabs two mugs from her cupboard. “You don’t need to be with me every step of the way, Rea.”

“Mama, I’ve seen a bunch of things. Especially when we lived in Daphne.”

I watch her spine straighten.

She hates thinking about the place we used to live—but we did. We lived in the ghetto, the poorest city in the whole state, and I've seen things no child or adult should ever have to see.

“If I could’ve saved you from it...” She trails off, making me feel like a bitch.

My dad left when Marty and I were young, I never asked about him.

It’s that simple.

He didn’t want to be there, he wasn’t worth my time.

The hellhole we lived in and the lack of money we had to survive off of told me how much he really cared about us.

“I saw your old friend from high school.”

My eyes narrow. I didn’t have friends in high school, only one—Serena.

And she’s dead.

“Who?”

Mama turns around and smiles, holding the french vanilla creamer to her chest. “Jed.”

My jaw clenches with tautness and more fucking guilt.

This was supposed to be a mini-vacation to get away from work, not a shame and remorse trip. The pit of my stomach burns with acid as Mama beams like she just won the damn lottery by running into him.

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