Page 5 of The Obsession

I swallowed my retort. Forced myself to take a deep breath.

“What were you up to?” Mom asked.

I shrugged. “Just doing some work for Lisa.” I’d started working there over the summer, just so I didn’t have to stay here in this house and watch my mother scurry about like a frightened rat, trying to appease Brandon’s endless demands. I’d never thought anything involving the library could be interesting, but my second month there, I walked in on Lisa dealing with inventory, and she trusted me enough by then to let me help. And, as it turned out, I was a natural. Lisa often told me I was the best assistant she could ever hope for, and I was pathetic enough to lap up any compliment thrown my way.

The corners of Mom’s mouth lifted, though I wouldn’t call what she was doingsmiling.

“You know, I wish you wouldn’t work, Dee,” she said. “We can afford Draycott. I’d much rather you spend your time studying or going out with your friends like a normal teen.”

Once again, I had to bite back my caustic reply. These days, there were thousands of unsaid retorts burning a hole in my throat.I’m doing this because of you,I wanted to yell until my voice stripped the flesh off her bones. Also, it was rich of her to say we could afford Draycott when we’d had to defer my enrollment for almost a year, until Pa’s insurance money finally came in.

Instead, I said, “Why’re you home early?”

“Oh, you know. Thought I’d take some time off work. I haven’t had a vacation in five years, so why not?” Mom’s eyes flicked toward me, pale, nervous. I could smell the lie on her, coming in waves so thick, it was almost visible.

I narrowed my eyes. “You’re taking a vacation from work,” I said flatly. “You, the woman who returned to work one week after giving birth, are taking a vacation.”

“It’s been known to happen,” Mom chirped.

I sighed. “What’s really going on, Mom?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be if I had more time at home, you know? I could do all the things I’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance to…”

“Like what?”

Now that she was finished putting the dishes away, Mom had no choice but to look at me. She didn’t do it for very long before she picked up a dishrag and started wiping at the kitchen counter absentmindedly. “Like baking.”

“Baking,” I parroted back.

“Yes, baking. I loved baking when I was younger.”

“Mom, you don’t take time off work because you want to bake. What the hell is this all about?”

“I just needed a break, okay?” Mom cried. “Is that all right with you, Dee? Do I have your permission to take time off work? Do you know how hard it is for a woman working in tech, Dee? You know the amount of shit I take every single day from men who think I don’t deserve to be there just because I happen to have a vagina?”

“This is because of Brandon, isn’t it?” I growled. I knew I was being a jerk, but it wasn’t the fact that she’d taken time off. It was the fact that this wasmy momtaking time off, and my mom never took time off work. She’d always been a tech designer first, wife second, mother third, and I loved her for it. And now, all of a sudden, here she was, an aspiring baker? It was all wrong. It smelled like Brandon’s doing.

“Well, he and I have been talking, yes, about how nice it would be if I—if we started a family, and—”

“A family?” I squawked. “You’re thinking of procreating with that man? Jesus Christ, Mom! You’ve lost it. Look at what he’s done to you, to us! You still can’t rotate your wrist without it clicking!” My entire world was spiraling out of control. “Mom, you’re smarter than this. Why do you keep him around? You can do so much better.”

“Sweetie, it’s not as simple as that. I’m in my forties; it’ll be a miracle if I can conceive at my age, and there aren’t many men out there who would be willing to take me, you know, what with all my baggage and my craziness.” Mom laughed her new laugh, the one she’d developed about a month after Brandon moved in.

“Mom, listen to me. Brandon’s been brainwashing you. All that stuff about nobody wanting you isn’t true. You’re a catch! I bet half the guys at your company are lusting over you.” But even as I said it, I knew I’d lost her. This was my fault, all of it. Pa had been the engineer in charge of making sure the rig ran smoothly, and he’d missed something, or he’d miscalculated—whatever it was, his mistake led to the explosion and left us with nothing but twisted metal and a thick layer of oil that spread poison across the ocean beneath a cloud of greasy, black smoke, an ecological disaster that the world mourned.

And in the months following his death, I’d taken all the fury boiling inside me and flung it at Mom’s face, and she’d had no one to turn to but Brandon. I had ripped her apart piece by piece, and Brandon had been there to catch the bits that remained. He’d pretended to put her back together, but his glue had turned out to be poison, too. By the time we were done with Mom, she was nothing but a shadow of what she used to be. I’d realized this too late. I could rage as hard as I wanted to, and Mom would still believe that she needed Brandon to get by. This was my doing.

“Look, Dee, I just need you to be supportive, okay? Can you do that for us? I’ll be home a lot more from now on, and I would really like us to get along.”

“What do you mean you’ll be home a lot more? I thought you were just taking a vacation. It’s temporary, right?” I asked.

“Well, it’s temporary, but if it goes well, maybe it can become something more permanent.”

“And what would we live on?”

Mom smiled. “Oh, sweetie, Brandon’s assured me he’ll look after us, I mean, look how well he’s looked after our finances—”

I blew up then. “How well he’s looked after our finances? You mean him taking your paychecks and—”