Page 28 of With This Lie

Dani

Every first Mondayof the month, I take the number seventy-two bus forty-five minutes north to Shady Oaks. That’s where my mother is. That’s where she will be forever. I put my phone away after texting Lucas and enjoy the rolling countryside as we exit the city. I have been on this road so many times; I know the buildings, the barns, and the signs before we get to them.

The bus stops short of the tall wrought iron fence and the grandeur of the front gate is misleading. There is only sadness inside. I walk through the gate with the others who’ve come to visit their loved ones. Inside, we gather at the chain link fence and remove our jackets and bags. We take everything from our pockets and sit it in a plastic bin. I walk through the metal detector the way I do each month and get cleared on the other side by a woman wearing a uniform and latex gloves.

I present my ID next and give my mother’s name. They wave me onward. I walk into the small enclosed courtyard where small, round tables are scattered. I walk to the right corner farthest from me and sit down.

“Hello, my princess, my Dani,” my mother says.

I smile at her as she cups my face in her left hand the way she does each time. “Hi, Mom,” I say. “How are you?”

My mother sits back and looks down the front of her. She tries to straighten out her bright orange oversized shirt. A number is printed on the left breast—her identification number.

“Well, what can I say? Not much changes in here. It’s all the same, all the time. But I did manage to get a few extra privileges this week,” she says, attempting to fake genuine excitement.

“That’s good, anything to pass the time, right?” I ask. My voice trails off at the end and we both know passing the time makes no difference. A life sentence is a life sentence. Whether it passes slowly or quickly, it doesn’t change anything. Silence falls between us, the way it does at least once in a visit.

“So, my princess, your birthday is soon!” she says, changing the subject for both our sakes.

“It’s no big deal,” I say.

“Of course, it is! Your birth will always be the most important day for me, and certainly something to celebrate,” she replies.

“It’s just another year. I’ll probably do what I always do. Nothing,” I say.

She shakes her head at me and sighs. “Do me a favor, Danielle? Please?”

I know it’s serious because that’s the only time she ever calls me Danielle. “Anything,” I say. And I mean it. I always mean it when she calls me Danielle.

“Celebrate your birthday. Really big. A party, with food and a cake and music and balloons and streamers and all that. Just this one time. Please?”

I press my lips together. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to celebrate without her. “Okay, Mom. I will.”

“And take a lot of pictures. Bring them to me. Okay?”

“I will,” I say, shoulders slumping now. The thought of it makes me a little sick, but I’ll do it for her.

“Good! That’s settled. What else is new, my love?” she asks.

“Not much to report. Well, I mean I’m seeing this new guy,” I say. My mother knows all about who I date and why. I would even go so far as to say she approves. She sort of even encourages it. She just gets me.

“And how’s that going?” she asks.

“Really well so far, actually. I enjoy being around him, and he’s funny,” I say.

“Oh, my princess, be careful,” she says abruptly.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You like him,” she says.

“What? No, I mean I do, but no more or less than anyone else I’ve seen,” I say, willing it to be true.

“Honey, I know you. And I know that look you have. It’s dangerous. You probably shouldn’t even see him again,” she says.

I sit back, a little shocked, a little sure she’s probably right. But I do what I want. “I’m seeing him again. He’s fun,” I say.

“Suit yourself,” she says.

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