Reality(1 in series) ~Completed~

Chapter Eleven

“Mom?” my voice caught in my throat as I gazed at the woman I hadn’t seen in eight years. 

She had aged, of course, but not much. Her hair was shorter than I remembered it being, the color still a rich dark brown. Her face had new lines in it, her eyes had crow’s feet, and her laugh lines were more prominent. Her green eyes seemed tired, but as they rested on me they brightened, and I knew she was seconds from crying.

Both of us seemed to gravitate towards each other, and within seconds I was in her arms, the same arms that used to rock me to sleep when I was a child. I had already been crying, but now the tears were coming full force, and I was sobbing loudly. I couldn’t help it. I had so many years of pent up emotions, so many years of not being able to talk to anyone. 

So many years of not knowing the warmth of my mother’s hug.

We hugged and cried on each other for what felt like hours before I pulled back. I sniffed and wiped my nose before saying, “I got your shirt wet.”

She laughed through her own tears and said, “I don’t care, baby girl, it’s been too long of a time since I’ve seen my own baby.” Smiling down at me she added, “And what a beautiful woman my little girl turned into.”

I smiled back at her and sat down on the couch, her sitting beside me. I couldn’t believe she was here, in front of me, and I told her that. 

“I’ve been on Artoul for years, baby. He told me you knew?” My mom was outraged, and I knew that once she got ahold of my father, there would be blood if someone wasn’t guarding him.

“I didn’t know a thing,” I frowned, feeling as if I had heard it somewhere, but surely I would’ve remember. Right?

She shook her head, “I despise that man.” I agreed and she pulled me into her body, cuddling me, “We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”

Again I nodded and sunk into her embrace, loving the feeling of my mother’s warmth. “So much catching up to do.”

And catching up we did, we talked for hours, and before we knew it the sun was setting and my devil father was knocking at the door.

With flowers.

I watched as my mother stood and began shouting at him, calling him every nasty name in the book before she took the flowers out of his hand and began to hit him with them.

If I wasn’t so mad, I probably would have laughed.

“How dare you lie to me about my daughter!” she screeched, whacking him with the beautiful flowers.

His arms were up, defending himself, but he didn’t give a verbal comment on his lies, only, “Please, Jannett! Please let me explain!”

Whack, whack, whack she went, not giving him any time to explain himself between her beatings. Soon, sweat was rolling down her face and she was breathing heavily. She threw down the flowers and growled, “I can’t believe I was ever in love with you!”

My father’s face fell and I watched as he forcefully took her into a hug. She was sobbing, and I saw a few tears leaking from his eyes as well. “I know you hate me, but I also know you love me, Jannett.” He looked at me over my mom’s shoulder and said, “I think it’s time we sit down as a family.”

“When?” I asked because I knew my mother wasn’t going to be able to talk through her tears. 

He sighed deeply, and looked like he was thinking of a time to fit in to talk to his own family. “I know it seems bad for me to say this, but we might have to push it back a day or two, we have guests coming in. Very important guests,” he said, while rubbing my mother’s back.