Me, Myself, and Others

Moving Trucks and Donald Ducks

I'm greeted by the smell of fresh cooked bacon wafting into my room and filling my nose. I breath in. Dad. Dad! I bolt out of bed, grinning like an idiot. My face falls. There is my mom, not my dad, flipping pancakes in her silk kimono. I hold back my tears, reality setting in. Mom turns around, makeup removed. Mostly. She smiles, placing a pancake on a large white plate. "Morning."

I cautiously step into the room, eyeing the food. Mom cooking meant something was going to happen today. I sit, pulling a plate to me. Mom hands me the syrup and a mug of coffee. She never gives me coffee. Not even for my asthma. I smell it before sipping it, watching her. "What?" she asks, holding up her spatula. I shake my head, chewing on the surprisingly fluffy eggs. I never thought mom knew how to cook. Dad mostly did the cooking.

She sits across from me with her own plate, cutting up her pancake daintily. She places it in her mouth, smiling. I can't help but smile back. Her phone rings, and the mood dies. I train my eyes on my food as she answers.

"Hello? Hey, Cassie! No, I haven't told Haley yet. I was getting around to it."

I look up at the sound of my name. Mom isn't looking at me. "You and Don are very generous. I appreciate it."

Cassie says something else before Mom hangs up, looking everywhere but me. "What haven't you told me?"

Breakfast forgotten, I let my fork clank onto the plate. She jumps at the loud sound. "You'll be staying with my old friend Cassie and her family. You know Cassie, right?"

I don't, but I nod anyway. "Well I have to go away to China for a year and-"

"A YEAR!"

My anger bursts. She jumps again. "Haley-"

"Don't Haley me, Sandra. I'm not going to live with some people I've never met just because your job tells you to."

Her eyes darken. "Listen, young lady. You will do as I say. You are going to live with Cassie because they were nice enough to offer to take you in. You will respect my decisions. I'm doing this for us. For you."

"For me? Nothing you've ever done is for me."

"Haley!" Her hand slams down on the table. I jump, my mouth snapping shut. She turns away from me, taking deep, controlled breaths. I know she does this when she's trying to keep her temper in check. I did that too. One thing we had in common was our spark.

"I'll go," I say quietly, hugging myself. She turns around again, face cold and impassive.

"Good," is her only reply. She stalks out the room, calling behind her," Moving trucks will be here soon. Pack up."

I stare at my bare feet on the cold, wooden kitchen floor. After a time I wash the dishes, trudging into my room, grabbing my one duffel and mini-backpack. I open my small glass case and pack in my collection of ceramic Donald Ducks. They were my dad's before he gave them to me for my tenth birthday. Most were chipped and broken, but I still loved them with all my heart. I carefully packed them in the backpack, setting my collection of glass dolphins next to them.

Next I pack up the small amount of clothes I have. Unlike my mom, I didn't have a thing for shopping. Everything I had I was forced to buy by either my mom or my many cousins. I zip up the duffel, yanking open my jewelry box. I hunt around in it for the teardrop necklace my mom gave me, with Dad's ashes. I clasp it around my neck, kissing it. Grabbing my Nikon bag and packing up my camera and Mac, I place it all by the front door.

Mom comes through the front door, breezing in covered in a sheen of sweat. I peek out at her silver Buick. Her Louis Vuitton bags are all piled in the trunk, mushed to make room. She doesn't say word, only points to the loading truck waiting behind her car. I grab my stuff and load it into the truck, keeping my Nikon bag and laptop carrier with me.