Page 87 of Caught A Vibe

“More like he missed having something to complain about…” I grumble.

“No, he found plenty to criticize in your absence.”

“How could he criticize you? You did everything for him.”

“And if it wasn’t done the way he wanted, or exactly when he thought it should be done, you can bet I heard about it. It was easier to put on my mask and do as he asked than argue. I figured I had earned it for all those years of not putting myself between the two of you.”

Though she smiles as she says it, I suddenly feel like an asshole for leaving my mom alone to bear the brunt of Dad’s verbal abuse. Of course, I’d only seen my parents’ marriage through the eyes of a child. What else had I missed?

I pull her back into a hard hug. “No. Never. Neither of us deserved the things he said.”

“No, we didn’t. But I should have protected you better. Thankfully, we won’t ever have to put up with that again.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Not as much as I thought I would.” She looks over my shoulder, as if the air behind me holds the answer. “I don’t have to keep the house immaculate and the meals hot and the clothes pressed anymore. No one complains about how I organize the kitchen or what I put on the TV.” She looks me right in the eyes, and doesn’t shy away from the truth. “I’ve got my life back. So no, I don’t miss him as much as I should.”

Me eithersits on the tip of my tongue but that feels too hard to say.

“Quit should-ing all over yourself, Mom,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood, but Mom’s not having it.

“Ishouldhave protected you. I will carry that regret for the rest of my life. And I am learning. I’m learning a lot of things… But I will not let that man cast his shadow over this visit.” Mom lets go of the hug and bustles around her kitchen, pulling out a plate and a loaf of bread.

I run my hand over the back of my neck. “It might be a long-ish visit.”

“Good.” She puts two pieces of bread in the toaster. “Now start at the beginning. Why are you here? What happened? How is everything at work?”

“I was writing game reviews for XPTech, and they sent me to T-Con to help cover the conference. I ended up breaking a major story, and they were impressed. Once the pandemic started, they asked me to write more quarantine-tech related pieces, and I got promoted to staff writer. Health insurance and a 401k.”

“And?”

Here it is. Here come the questions and judgment I’d been expecting. For all she seems different, she’s still my mom. My walls come snapping back up and so does my tone. “And what? Isn’t that enough? I thought you’d be happy about a full-time gig.”

“You wouldn’t be here if you were excited about it. And how I feel about it doesn’t matter. Are you happy at this full-time gig?”

I lean against the counter next to where Mom is puttering. She takes the toast from the machine, butters it, sprinkles it with cinnamon sugar and cuts it into triangles, no crusts. My sick-day breakfast. The exact right food for this kind of morning.

“I should be, right? Like this is a big step forward for me.”

She hands me the plate and shoos me back to the table. “Who’s should-ing themselves now?”

I chuckle. “It’s harder than I thought. I’m not interested in the topics I’m supposed to be.”

“Ah, no dopamine,” she interjects, so casually that it throws me for a second.

“So I was looking around for inspiration since they won’t give me games to review, and I ended up writing things I shouldn’t have about the woman I was involved with. I put her business at risk to write an article to keep a job I don’t want.” I take a bite of the cinnamon toast and I feel five again. “I really messed up.”

“Did you apologize?”

“She didn’t give me the chance and I didn’t stay long enough to try. Besides, what is there to say? She’s right. I’m a mess, and she deserves to live her private life the way she wants.”

My mom is persistent and doesn’t let me hide behind the easy answer. “Are you going to apologize?”

“I don’t know how.” I want to say I’m sorry I hurt her, sorry I put her work in jeopardy, but I also know there’s no changing who I am. So is an apology disingenuous? Also I have no idea if she’ll ever speak to me again, so it’s a moot point. “It’s not like I can fix the root cause. My ADHD isn’t going anywhere.”

“No, it isn’t. But you deserve love just as you are. Just be honest with her. It may not fix anything, but she deserves the closure.”

I don’t know what therapist my mom has started seeing, but she is clearly earning every penny.

---