Page 61 of Fractured Mind

She pauses. “I’m not surprised. I can imagine Jade is over the moon with the idea of the two of you together. She always hoped it would happen.”

At the thought of Jade, I smile. “She’s lovely! She created a photo album for me filled with pictures of us as children and another for the years I missed out on.”

Mom smiles too, her smile lines more pronounced. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I’ll have to visit her.”

Excitement coats her voice, and I think it’s a wonderful idea. Jade will be a good influence on Mom since I don’t recall her having any friends when she was sick.

“How’s Darren?”

I pull my head back and look at her questioningly. “Who’s Darren?”

“What do you mean, who’s Darren? He’s Jade’s husband, Ashton’s father.”

I think about the lack of photos of him in the house and how no one has said a word about him. “I don’t know. Maybe they aren’t together anymore?”

Her eyes radiate shock, but she shakes her head in disbelief. “I’m sure he’s probably working.”

That doesn’t seem to be the case, but I don’t say anything because I could be wrong. I gently stroke my arm, ready to rip off the Band-Aid. I briefly close my eyes. “Now that you’re out, what happens next?”

“I’m enrolled in therapy, and I have a few things I want to focus on.”

I hesitate before asking, “Like what?”

She doesn’t answer straight away, but her eyes soften. “Repairing my relationship with you is my top priority.”

I give her a tight nod as she sighs, her shoulders dropping.

“You didn’t call me back,” she says, sounding hurt.

My mood shifts. I can’t talk at first. “What did you expect me to say?” My voice is a blend of anger and frustration. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened? I should have known.”

She pales and looks down before raising her chin to look at me again. “It was hard for me... Only now in therapy have I even been able to talk about your grandpa.”

My head is spinning and ready to explode. “It was hard for you? What about me?” Bitterness wraps around my words. “I know you were struggling, but you had six years.”

“There are a lot of things I wish I could change, but I can’t. All I can say is I’m sorry.”

She sounds genuine, but if she thinks she can walk in and apologize once and expect everything to go back to normal, she’s got another thing coming.

There’s movement in my peripheral vision, and when I turn, I see Nana. She walks in with her cup in hand and the chef behind her. He places my cup on the small table in front of me and Mom, and her coffee directly in front of her. He seems to sense the tension in the room because he hightails it out of here.

Nana takes a seat on the other lounge chair, and we all lift our mugs to our mouths as the awkward silence draws on.

“So...” Nana says, “what are we talking about?”

“How Mom couldn’t care for me, so I was alone, feeling unwanted and wondering what was wrong with me. I thought I had no one—no friends, no family, and a mother who wanted nothing to do with me.” I’ve never spoken to her this way, but nothing can stop me.

Mom responds, “That wasn’t the?—”

I cut her off. “Apparently, alcohol was more important.”

Mom’s body droops, her eyes welling with tears. I know it was a low blow, but the bitterness is like a cancer inside me, taking hold. I glance at Nana. She’s watching Mom’s reaction, a deep frown on her face, and I wonder if I went too far.

Mom wipes the corners of her eyes. “I should have been there for you, but I’m trying to be a better mom now.”

“The pain you caused doesn’t just go away because you say sorry. You not only left me to raise myself—you took me away from everyone who could have supported me. You drank alcohol to numb your pain, but it also stopped you from seeing mine.”

There’s heartache in her eyes, but she needs to know how much pain she caused. I wonder if this discussion will break her and make her drink again. I didn’t realize how deep my anger goes until I saw her.

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