TOUCH

Forty Eight

"What did she say when she saw you?" Lisa asked, changing the subject.

The frown that formed in Jordan's face brought an anxious feeling in her. She hoped, for the love of God, Terry wasn't as bad to her children as she was to her lover.

"How could a mother hate her child? What did I do to make her hate me?"

"What happened?" Lisa pried.

Jordan released a breath, wiping the tears that fell down her cheek. She shifted to sit on the bed, allowing Lisa to take a seat next to her.

"I talked to her." she started. "I told her she was a shitty mom. I yelled at her, and I cussed at her and she still didn't give a shit. She still blamed me. She didn't even ask how I was doing."

Lisa pat her back. "Are you okay?"

Her daughter shook her head. "I feel guilty."

"Why?" Lisa asked, with furrowed eyebrows.

"Because I shouldn't have spoken to her the way that I did. I should've just shut my mouth, or just come home." she turned to her mother, staring back into hazel orbs. "I made her cry."

Usually, Jordan felt no guilt if a truth was spoken, even though the person got hurt. Terry just held a certain kind of power over her that demolished any confidence she has on anything, including the truth. She doubts it herself, even after having experienced it. She felt she may have dramatized it just the bit to gain some kind of pity from Terry.

It may have been due to how Terry would accuse her of being dramatic at times when she expressed herself. Like if she ever fell down and started crying, instead of comforting her, she would howl at how loud she was crying, how it couldn't possibly hurt so much, and even say uncouth words to get her to shut up.

Lisa sighed, bringing her hand to Jordan's face, giving her a soft reassuring smile.

"May I ask you something? And you have to promise to answer truthfully."

Jordan nodded.

"Do you love your mother?"

The question caught Jordan off gaurd. She barely ever asked the question herself. It was never something she wondered, ever. It was an obvious, and definite yes. The only reason she would ever have denied it would have been because she felt her mother didn't love her. But she knew that she did.

Then why did she think so hard? Why did she have to rake through her brain for confirmation. Why did she have to dig for moments in her childhood when her mother was being decent, and caring.

She held on to one memory in specific. It was in first grade, mothers day. She drew her a heart, a big one. Inside it, were Maya and herself, while at the top she wrote "mommy's heart". She got home and handed it to her mother, who took it, read it, and placed a hand to her chest, engulfing Jordan into a big hug, and kissing her so many times, Jordan had to beg for her to stop. And then she took the picture and hung it on the fridge, and told her that she would look at it everyday to remind herself what an amazing artist her daughter was.

"I do" she said, returning her eyes back to reality.

Lisa smiled. "Do you love me."

She placed her hands above Lisa's on her cheek. "Of course I do. You know I do."

"What is it you love about me?" she asked.

She thought, but only for a second, before her mind formulated a response.

"I love that you're caring, and thoughtful. I love how amazing you are at cooking, because I had the worst French toast for breakfast and it only made me think about how bomb yours is." she laughed, emitting a laugh from Lisa as well. "I love that you're one woman that can handle Six kids, one of them being me, and somehow still always so positive and jolly. I love how kind you are, even though you're a little too kind sometimes. And I love that you give great advice. And..jeez mom, are you crying?"