Page 25 of Cursed to Be Mine
Swallowing with shame over how I treated her, I stay silent as I get in and buckle up.
The silence stretches as we drive down the street. I want to break it so badly, to soothe her pain, but what does a mother say when she’s the one who caused her daughter to cry?
When she did it to try to get through to her?
‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t feel like enough.
My fingers tightening on the wheel, I turn right onto Highway One, heading towards the outskirts of the city, up near Stokes Landing Conservation Area. I glance over at Scarlett.
She keeps hers on her window, gazing out.
The silence starts to hurt.
Clenching the wheel beneath my fingers, I grasp for words. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles, easing the chains around my heart a bit.
“I just want you to be healthy.”
“I know.”
“Insulin costs about seven-and-a-half thousand a year. We can afford that now, but I won’t be here forever, Gen, and with you failing college… That’s six month’s wages working full time on minimum, and the prices are only going to rise. Then there are all the other issues caused by obesity. Mom couldn’t afford it, you know, and I watched her –”
“I know,” she says softly, finally turning to face me. “I’m sorry I had a burger. I knew it was wrong.”
And yet, you still went through the whole process of cooking one.
I don’t say that though. Instead, I just reach over and grab her hand, squeezing it with a small smile.
She turns back to look out the window, but she doesn’t pull away.
Perhaps what I did got through to her.
Then it was worth it.
The right thing to do.
“So…” I say, grasping for more words to fill the space between us. “How’s college going?”
“You already know I’m failing,” Scarlett mumbles, her words a mere breath on the glass rather than sounds of substance.
“Other than classes then. College is about connections just as much as grades.”
She looks at me, studying my face for a lie. But she eventually takes the out I’m giving her. “It’s okay.”
“Making any new friends?”Or any at all?
“I thought I was, but…” She shrugs and turns to face her reflection again.
“But what?” I overtake a slow driver with a ‘Baby on Board’ sign. The dad flips me off as I pass, so I cut in a bit closer than necessary. He honks, slamming his brakes, and I throw my hand out the window. The carseat was empty anyway.
He rides up my ass.
“Nothing.”
“Come on,” I encourage. “You can tell me, and we can go TP their car or whatever it is you youngsters do these days.”
A smile cracks her resolve. “There was a guy…” she finally says.
