Page 3 of Their Chosen

I turned around to find that she had risen as well and followed me. “Water would be okay,” she stated demurely. The woman before me seemed so fragile. I definitely didn't get my build from her, but most likely from my father. The one I had never met, seen a picture of, or heard stories about. He had always been the biggest mystery in my life. Mom always avoided the subject when I dared ask, or she'd simply shut down and use her vices to escape.

Yup, I’d been given such a wonderful chance at a bright future, I thought to myself as the anger sprang up unintentionally, souring my mood further. Ugh! Stop! I chastised myself internally. Those thoughts wouldn't help anything and only served to make my anger worse, preventing me from ever getting the many answers I so desperately needed. Grabbing her and I both glasses, I opened the freezer to put ice in them. I filled hers with water and snatched a soda for myself. Some people enjoyed a beer or wine as a treat, but with the familial tendency toward addiction, I preferred a soda instead. Even if what I really wanted was a stiff drink, I tried to avoid consuming alcohol while in a tenuous mental state. I didn’t want it to turn into a crutch.

Grabbing both newly filled glasses, I walked them to the table. “Can you grab a couple of plates from the cabinet? The one to the left of the stove,” I asked her as I set the glasses down and turned back to make sure she found them, watching as she grabbed two to set on the table. After placing them on the table, she sat in the chair that faced the door and took a drink of her water. The awkwardness returned, but just as I went to sit, the doorbell rang again. Saved by the bell! I thought, laughing in my head at the pun.

“That must be the pizza,” I stated, turning to walk toward the door. Just as I opened it, a loud gasp followed by a thud and a curse sounded out behind me. Distracted, I took the pizza from the delivery guy and thanked him with a tip. Shutting the door, I turned back to see my mother's eyes, large as saucers, as she tried to dab up the water she’d dropped with shaking hands. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

I rushed the pizza to the kitchen, grabbed another dish towel from the drawer, and went to help her. Kneeling down next to her, I picked up her glass and the spilled ice cubes. As I stood to dump them into the sink, I noticed a tear fall from her eyes and heard the accompanying sniffle. Her hands had stopped dabbing at the carpet, and all of her focus appeared to be on keeping her composure now. Instead of leaving her side to throw the ice in the sink, I put the cubes in her now-empty glass and lowered back down, placing one hand on her back and the other over her hands to still the shaking. At the contact, she looked at me, the fear and shock evident in her eyes as they watered. She was barely holding on, and I had no clue what had triggered her.

Not wanting to ruin the night or drive her back toward drugs to numb her emotions, I tried to comfort her. Making a decision, I offered her the support she had probably never had before. At least none that I had ever witnessed or offered before. Both of us had been completely on our own for too long. “It's okay. It's just water. Besides, it's not like this carpet hasn't already seen worse.” I gave a half-hearted smile to go along with my poor sense of humor, assuming that was what had set her off.

As she stared at me, I waited for her response. She launched herself at me, hugging me and almost knocking us both over. I was so shocked at her uncharacteristic show of emotion and affection that it took me a few moments for my brain to register and then wrap my own arms around her. Her sobs began immediately in response to my touch, and she started to shake, burying her face into my chest. I rubbed my hands up and down her back and made shushing noises in an attempt to soothe her, still at a complete loss. I desperately hoped there was something else going on, something other than drugs to explain such a drastic change in her mood and behavior.

At that thought, I felt my body tense up. No, I would at least give her a chance to explain before I jumped to conclusions. If it were drugs, she most likely wouldn't have even shown up tonight. Her history was to disappear when she was using. There had to be some other explanation.

I continued to rub her back and forced my muscles to relax, to help her calm in any way I could. “It's okay, Mom. Whatever it is, it's going to be okay. I'm here for you if you need to talk about whatever is going on.” My voice was calm and soft, which seemed to be working. The shaking and sobs had lessened by the end of my statement, my voice pulling her from her thoughts. I wondered if she had ever had anyone offer her comfort before. If she had always felt alone after whatever had happened with my dad?

I felt my mom pull back as I realized there was more to my mom’s story. It didn't excuse her decision to check out of being a mom, but I thought I was finally understanding why she felt the need to do so. She wasn't a fighter like me; instead, she was rather fragile in many ways. I released her from my hold as she started to wipe at her tears. Standing, I walked to the kitchen counter and grabbed the box of Kleenex I kept there. I pulled one out and offered it to her before placing the box on the table. Once she had dried her eyes and nose, I offered my hand to help her up. Sometimes, physically removing yourself from a position of weakness was enough to allow you to regain your composure and power.

She accepted my hand, and I pulled her up to stand. I studied her face, trying to figure out what had upset her and if she was about to lose it again. She appeared to have regained control of her emotions, but I could see the fear still lingering. She studied me back as we stood face to face, closer than we had been in years. I was sure she could see the concern and questions on my face, and I saw the exact moment she appeared to make a decision. She exhaled deeply, shuddering, as some of the tension left her. She forced out a tense laugh and I could tell she didn't know where to start. “Is everything okay, Mom?” I asked, trying to get her to relax. All my life, she had been a closed book. At some point, I would need answers. Fingers crossed that tonight she would start the process of opening up to me.

She sighed again, her shoulders slumping as she sat heavily in her abandoned chair. “No, Rhowyn, it's not.”

Chapter Three: Rhowyn

At her pronouncement, I sat in my own chair, abandoning all thoughts of cleaning up and dinner. The cushion was uncomfortable as I shifted in my seat. “What's wrong, Mom? Maybe I can help?”

She huffed out an angry laugh of disbelief, her delicate face scrunching up at the motion. “It's not something that anyone can change. It is what it is, and we are all at the mercy of the fates.”

“What do you mean? What's going on?” I peppered her, trying to get the point across that she needed to spit it out. The note of hopelessness and resignation in her voice had me concerned more than I had been before. Somehow, deep down in my gut, I knew the other shoe was about to drop.

Finally, she looked up at me, capturing and holding all my attention with that look. “Rhowyn, I need you to promise that no matter how crazy I sound, you must hear me out. You need to listen to everything I have to say, and if, at the end, you doubt me or need me to leave, I'll understand completely. This will take a while, but it's something you absolutely must hear. Can you promise me that?”

“Mom, you're starting to worry...” I tried to plead with her, but she cut me off.

“Rhowyn! Promise me!” she snapped at me, her voice and posture more forceful than I had ever seen on her. She had always seemed so defeated by life, and the contrast was jarring.

“Yes,” I replied in complete shock at the rapid changes to her moods and behaviors.

“Good,” she sighed, relaxing into the chair. “I'm not sure exactly where to start. I never planned on having this conversation; I always thought we'd be stuck here until we died, our family unaware of what happened to us. Your father was so convinced that we would never be in harm's way if we just stayed here. He promised that we would be protected. Oh, God!” Her rant broke off as she leaned forward in her chair placing her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands. While she had started calmly, her speech became more rushed as her panic became evident, ratcheting up my own fear.

“Mom, what are you talking about? What do you mean we were supposed to be safe? We are safe. Nothing will happen. It's okay. Whatever it is, we'll be okay.” I leaned forward as well as I tried to break through her impending panic attack, but she didn’t act like she could hear me, completely lost in her own mind.

“He promised,” she stated in an exhaled whisper.

I placed a hand on the forearm closest to me, pulling it down so she could see me. “Mom,” I said gently, waiting for her to notice me. Once I finally had her attention, I placed my hand in hers and tried to continue the conversation. “Who promised?”

“Your father.” Her eyes held so much pain and heartbreak, clear after so many years of seeing them glassy and numb. Whatever was going on, she wasn’t high right now.

“What did he promise?” I prodded gently, knowing that whatever I was about to hear was going to hurt. What is it they say? Never ask a question you don't want to know the answer to? Well, I’ve always done things my own way, so why go changing things now?

“I'm so sorry, Rhowyn. We never thought things would end up where they are now. I never thought we'd be unable to go back or that I wouldn't be there for you as you grew up. I was too weak. I didn't realize that at the time, but I was never meant to be this person, ostracized from all I knew and raising a baby girl all alone in a strange world. You must know that I'm so sorry for it all. For everything.” She grasped my hand with both of hers as she pleaded with me to understand.

“I can't say that it was all okay, but I can say that I want to understand. I want to grow that relationship with you now.” I compromised for her, hoping it would get her to finally tell me what was going on.

She sniffed back more tears but didn't pull away from me. “I know I can't fix the past, but I do want to help you now. Prepare you as best as I can for what is to come. What I'm about to tell you will sound crazy, but I need you to believe me. It’s important.”

Not sure exactly what to say, I simply agreed. “Okay. What do I need to know?” Whatever it was, I would make sure she got the best help she could get for whatever problem she faced now. Unlike her, no matter how angry or alone I was, I couldn't walk away from her. And even though she might not deserve it, I vowed to myself that I would always be there for her.

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