Page 43 of Wild For You
“Mom, what’s this really about?” I asked, though I already suspected her last relationship had fizzled out, and she was about to embark on her movie-watching journey.
“Why does it have to be about anything? Can’t I want to spend time with my daughter?”
I wanted to chime in and say, “Since when?” but I refrained.
Tilting my head forward, I rubbed my temples now, a full-on headache now forming with each passing second I spent on the phone with my mom.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I responded.
“But since you must know, I had to leave that complex I was living in. Do you know they barged into my apartment unannounced and kicked me out?”
“Mom. You wereevicted?”
“Kicked out, my dear. They wouldn’t even let me explain why I couldn’t pay my rent.”
“You weren’t paying your rent?” I asked, my voice rising with each word. “How far behind were you?”
“Just four months. I had a deal with the previous manager, but then they got this new guy, and he and I just weren’t a good fit.”
“Why wasn’t he a good fit, Mom?” I asked, but I suspected I already knew the answer. She used her body and good looks to get away with things most people would never even attempt.
“Because he’s married to a wretched woman, Kelsey. She even carried a knock-off handbag. Can you believe it?”
I could, because not every woman wanted to splurge their entire paycheck on a designer-label accessory to only use it once and then let it collect dust in a closet until they were scraping by, then try to sell it for their next hit. My mom’s drug of choice being herself, of course.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Mom. I really am,” I told her as I ran my hand across my stomach. If ever there was a time to put my foot down, it was now. Though, my mother had a miraculous way of gaslighting me until she got what she wanted, and always at my expense. “But I can’t help you.”
In a split second, her entire demeanor changed. She went from sad and woeful to downright mean.
“What do you mean, you can’t help?”
“Again, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you this time. I have… my own stuff going on. I’m sure you’ll figure things out. You always do.”
“I can’t believe this. My own daughter is leaving me destitute to die hungry and on the streets.”
I wanted to shake her when she said shit like that. She had a damn good job. She just blew her paycheck as soon as it hit her account.
“That’s not it at all. I’m sure you’ll find a place to stay.”
“With what? I have no money.”
I inhaled deeply and held my breath, then let it release slowly. “That’s something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself.”
“Fine,” she snarled, and I imagined her lip curled up in disgust. “I’ll be at the Airport Motel if you need me.”
Before I could say anything else, she abruptly ended the call.
As much as I wished it was the last time I’d hear from her, I knew it wasn’t. The moment I let her into my life again, she knew exactly which buttons to push to keep me complacent. One good call or meeting would make up for months of the narcissistic gaslighting I had become all too familiar with, and the cycle would start all over again.
I just didn’t think I had the strength to keep her in my life anymore, now that I potentially had someone who was going to need me more, who was truly my responsibility, unlike my own mom. Immediately, my eyes popped up to the door, remembering I’d left Andrew standing in the kitchen. I wondered how much of the one-sided conversation he heard.
Leaning down, I grabbed the charger off the floor and plugged it back into the wall. Remembering Andrew had texted me the number for his sisters’ doctor’s office, I decided to go ahead and rip off the Band-Aid and schedule an appointment.
It was late in the afternoon, and I secretly hoped no one answered. My palms were sweaty as the phone rang, and I wiped them on my shorts as I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder.
“Hello, Women’s Clinic, how may I help you?”
“Uh… yes, I need to make an appointment.”
