Page 52 of Back On Ice

Mom: Do you want to come over for breakfast after my therapy appointment? Dr. Monroe will be here in five minutes.

Me: Sounds great! Need me to bring anything?

Mom: Just yourself, sweetie. Love you.

Me: Love you. See you soon.

An hour and a hot shower later, I’m parking in Mom’s driveway, ready to spend quality time with her before I meet Jake for lunch. Someone closes the front door behind them as I approach, and I come face to face with a small woman with red hair and a pair of large, square glasses.

“Mr. Williams.” She smiles at me. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You as well, Dr. Monroe. I trust everything is going well?” Dr. Monroe has done wonders for Mom’s mental health. I swear she smiles more and more every day.

“Since she’s disclosed that I can speak to you regarding her progress, I can tell you that she’s doing very well. I do think she would benefit from meeting other women who have been in her same situation though.” She pulls a pamphlet from her shoulder bag. “I gave Vivianne one as well, but we have an all-women’s domestic violence support group that my office heads up, and we have a retreat happening soon. She’d be gone for about three months, but I believe it would be groundbreaking for her.”

Nodding my head, I flip through the pamphlet. It’s at a hotel in Colorado. Spas, pools, massages, hiking, and various well known speakers are listed on the pages, as well as a section detailing how they’ll break up into smaller groups to have more conductive conversations.

This is perfect. Mom has always done her best to take care of me. It’s time I go beyond and give her what she needs.

Smiling, I hand the pamphlet back to her. “That’s a great idea. Set it up and send me the invoice, please. I’ll make it a sort of surprise vacation for her. She deserves it.”

“Yes, she does.” Dr. Monroe smiles kindly at me as she puts the pamphlet back in her bag. “I’ll have it set up by the end of the day.”

Mom is in the living room when I come in, reading a book on the couch. She looks happier. More… lighthearted. The first few sessions she was always a mess after, but Dr. Monroe had said that it’s a completely normal response to dredging up repressed emotions and painful memories. Now, she seems lighter and lighter every time.

“Hey, Mom.” I bend down from behind the couch and press a kiss to her cheek before coming around and sitting on the opposite side from her.

“Hi, Sweetie.” Mom puts her bookmark in her book before setting it on the cushion next to her and pulling off her reading glasses. “I have an egg casserole in the oven. It was frozen, so I popped it in when I texted you earlier. Should be ready any minute. ”

“Sounds good,” I tell her, leaning back. “Everything go okay with your appointment?”

“Dr. Monroe is amazing. I feel so comfortable with her, and she’s made me realize that nothing your father did is my fault.”

Why would she think it’s her fault? Have I ever made her feel that way? Ice crawls in my veins at the thought of Mom thinking I ever blamed her for anything Dad ever did.

“Did I…” I choke on my words, “Mom, have I ever made you feel that way?”

“Oh!” She scoots towards me on the couch, grasping my hand. “No, never, Carter, I swear. I just meant that on some level, I had always felt like it was my fault. But that was because every time he would…” she contorts her face, the words clearly hard for her to say, “abuseme, he made sure to tell me it was because of my actions. And when you hear the same thing every day for years, eventually it’s just second nature to believe it. But Dr. Monroe is helping me see that there is nothing that I could have done to ever warrant such behavior. That the only one responsible for his actions ishim.”

Relief fills my chest at her words. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I ever made her feel she deserved anything Dad gave her.

It’s strange to hear Mom actually acknowledge the abuse. For years, she thought it was her job to make sure I was never subjected to the harsh reality that is my piece of shit father. If she had to refer to it at all, she would just say that stress got to him, or that he lost control of his temper.

I’m so fucking glad he’s gone now, wherever the hell he ended up. Mom wouldn’t have been able to make this kind of progress in her recovery if the threat of his presence still lingered.

An alarm goes off on her phone, and she smiles, patting me on the knee. “That’ll be the casserole.” I feel a faint smile on my face as I watch her go to the kitchen.

I hate that she went through what she did, but hearing her talk about it, acknowledging that even though it’s something that happenedtoher, it’s not something that happenedbecauseof her, gives me hope. Hope that with enough time and healing, Mom can be back to who she was before Dad’s abuse started.

Well, maybe not theexactsame, but she’ll be resilient. She’s a survivor, a warrior. My mom has seen the other side of hell and is crawling her way back topside step by step. She’ll come out the other side reformed, reshaped, and stronger than ever, and fuck, I can’t wait to see it when she does.

“Hey, man.” Jake says when I slide into the booth across from him at Sal’s. “How’s it going?”

“Since yesterday?” I tease, since we see each other nearly every day. “It’s going great. Though Soph didn’t get to sleep over last night… shit, I missed her. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her all over again.”

Jake snorts. “No kidding. We don’t get through a single conversation without you bringing her up at least once.” His words are ribbing, but his tone is light, and I know he’s happy for me.

“You’re welcome to bring up Abbie at any time,” I raise a brow, trying to get a read on him. He’s been oddly cagey since they started hooking up. Usually, he’s all about bragging about his conquests.

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