Page 65 of Deny Me

Twenty-Seven

Staring up at the ceiling, I watched the blades of my fan turn and tried to track each one moving in circles. I was back in my bed where I feared I was going to end up forever. I let the blankets wrap around me as my heavy limbs sank into the comfort of my bed. Not moving. Just wallowing in the mess I was making. Each step I made seemed to be a bigger mistake than the last until I was spiraling out of control and didn’t know who I was anymore.

I needed something to ground me. When I’d stumbled back into my apartment and saw my laptop sitting on the table, I’d made a decision. It was almost laughable that after everything I’d done fighting to go to Italy, that I would let panic and loss of control be the guiding emotions to make my final decision. Making everything leading up to that moment almost pointless.

I couldn’t leave Cincinnati. Not right then. It was the one constant that had been in my life for ten years, and amongst the chaos raging around me, it remained solid. I had lost part of my family when I’d shoved Jameson away, and I’d lost my confidence along with it. Cincinnati was my home, and I needed it more than ever. Italy was a chance and right then, I needed control. Control over my life, my job, my choices.

One of the many rubber bands squeezing my lungs, forming a pinch in my heart, had released when I’d hit the send button on the email to notify the people in Italy of my decision. But there were still too many to relieve the ache.

“Get the fuck out of my bar.”

The words went off in my mind like explosions. I’d wake up from a restless sleep and they were there, waiting for me, dragging me back to reality.

My phone ringing on the pillow next to me drew my attention. In the darkness of my bedroom, the phone lit up with “Mom”. A part of me wanted to ignore it like I was ignoring everything else. But, despite the way things had gone the last time we talked, I knew she would finally understand and support me. And it was one of those times where I didn’t feel like an adult; I felt like a child who needed to hear from the woman who always built up my confidence.

Reaching over, I clicked the green circle. “Hello.”

“Evelyn? Are you okay?” she asked, concerned. She always knew when something was wrong. I’d made the right choice to pick up.

“Hey, Mama.” The words came out garbled from holding back the tears in my throat, choking me.

“Baby…” Her soft endearment broke the floodgate of emotions and the tears began falling. “Tell me.”

I tried to speak, but my chest kept jerking with sobs. I’d lain in bed for a week and only let small tracks of tears escape to make room for more, but there, with my mom on the phone, the excess of pain came pouring out of me, making it impossible to speak. “Mama,” I tried, but it was broken off.

“Evelyn. Shhhh,” she soothed through the line. “Come on, baby. Take deep breaths with me.” When I explained my mother to people and how she raised me – the way she made me promise to never fall in love and always rely on myself – they would look like they were holding back horrified grimaces. But this woman gave me a safe foundation to build myself on. She gave me the building blocks to take myself to the sky and beyond. It may not have always been right, but I would always be grateful for what she gave me.

Hearing her soothing words, I could imagine the way she used to hold me and brush my hair back from my face. Following her cues, I listened to her breathing through the phone and matched mine to it, slowly calming down enough to speak.

“I turned down the job,” I blurted.

“Evelyn…” She let out a heavy sigh and I rushed on before she could continue.

“Mama, I don’t want to go. I already turned it down and I’m not going. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’ve never felt so lost. But the only thing I do know is that Cincinnati is my home and it’s all I have to keep me grounded. To remind me that I’m me.”

“Oh, baby,” she breathed. It took her a while to speak again and the longer it took the more my fear of letting her down built back up. “What happened?” There was no judgment in her voice, just an honest need to understand.

“I broke it off with Jameson. I thought you were right in saying that he was the only thing holding me back from Italy. I questioned everything, because I thought I would have accepted the job otherwise. I didn’t want to be a woman who held back for a man. You taught me better than that.” I paused to take a deep breath. “But it hurts so much. So much, Mama. And the more I thought about Italy, I thought about leaving the happy life I’ve built here and something twisted inside of me. It felt awful. I like my apartment. I like my friends. I like my job. I like my life.” I punctuated each statement with my hand hitting my comforter. “Why would I change that? Italy was no longer an opportunity as much as it felt like a task I had to complete. I never wanted work to feel like work and that’s what Italy felt like it would be.”

The thoughts had been swimming around my head for weeks, but they were disjointed and I’d pushed them aside. But finally saying them out loud, I was able to piece them together and make sense. Unfortunately, it didn’t make me feel better.

“And I’m so confused about Jameson. I love him. I really do, and I convinced myself breaking it off with him would be for the best so we had no ties when I left for Italy. But I was mean and cold when I did it, and I messed up. I’ve ruined it. You were right. Falling in love is not worth it. It hurts, and I don’t want to feel this anymore. I don’t know what to do. I never should have fallen in love.”

After I finished, the jumbled words tripping over each other in a race to get out, I took a breath and waited for her I told you so.

“Did I ever tell you how I met your father?”

“N- No. You never talk about Dad.”

She let out a small laugh. “He was a firefighter running a drill at our campus. We stood aside clutching our books watching these burly men haul around equipment. When he turned to look at me, I swear Evelyn. My heart stopped and I knew. I knew he was the one.” I had never heard my mom’s voice filled with so much love and affection for anyone other than me. “At the end of it all, he came over and told me he had to take me to dinner because he would die if he never saw me again. It was over the top, but it worked. I was in the middle of getting my business degree. Once I was done with my second year, he asked me to marry him. Over the summer we eloped, and I found out I was pregnant in my third year. I finished, but when it came time to head back for my final year, I looked at your father and put my life in his hands.”

I’d heard that part before. How she’d quit school to be a housewife. But never with such adoration and willingness. It was usually wrapped in anger and bitterness.

“I loved that man more than anything in the entire world. And he gave me you, which was more than I could have ever imagined.” I heard her deep inhale through the phone. “And I would never – never – take it back.” My head jerked back in shock. She’s never said it aloud, but I always assumed that she would go back and change things if she could’ve.

“Mom, I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. I never told you. I was so sad. God, Evelyn, I was broken when I lost your father. And I didn’t know how to deal with it. So when I felt the first glimmer of anger, I grabbed onto it with both hands and used it to pull myself out of the mess I’d become. I needed something to help me move on. And maybe it was wrong to push my anger and bitterness on you. Maybe I should’ve been more fair and taught you about the wonders of love. Because some of the most wonderful years of my life were spent with your father.”

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