The Saint & The Sinner.

Chapter 30: Irrational, Impetuous, And Intemperate.

"Did you love my mom?" I finally asked after a very long time of silence. I finished reading my mom's journal and I couldn't process what I had just read. I have so many questions; actually they're more like demands. I demand to know the truth. I refused to let Corey read me like a book; I kept my legs tightly brought up to my chest. My features remained expressionless. He sighed; muting the show we were watching and turned to me.

"I was seventeen; I had no clue what love was." I was a little taken back by this. Corey appreciates honesty and yet he feeds me this bullshit answer. I wasn't about to let him get out of this conversation that easily. Nope, nu-ugh, no way in Hell or high water was that going to happen. I scowled at him. He sighed heavily again, knowing I wasn't going to drop the topic as easily as he hoped.

"I think seventeen year old me loved the idea of your mom. She was the girl from out of town who knew what it was like to never feel at home, we were one in the same. I never told her I loved her just to lure her into having sex, okay? If memory serves, I said it afterwards,"

"You're right. Besides, she said it first what were you supposed to do? Not say anything at all? Tell her that you didn't feel the same way? Y'know, the whole honesty gig." At first my words were cool and fluid but by the end of my statement they were sharp and venomous. I felt an anger rise up in me; it was something I have never felt before. I've felt anger before but not this kind. This was dry anger. It wasn't about to let me go until I drew blood, metaphorically speaking.

Corey's silence spoke volumes. I got up from the lounge chair and slapped my mom's journal down in front of the dumbstruck man on the glass coffee table.

"Y'know, my mom might be a lot of things but a liar isn't one of them. Why don't you read the last couple entries, see how much she loved you." I spat at him coldly. I left him alone in the living room. I went right up to my room and stayed there. I wasn't sure why he hasn't kicked me out yet; I deserve it. At least then I'm able to leave without hurting anyone. Y'know when I was in health class the teacher had a name for babies that weren't planned; no, not happy surprises, he called them oopsie daisy babies. A lot of parents were outraged by that but my mom was honest with me. I was an accident. I wasn't supposed to happen. I was an oopsie daisy baby. I often wonder if she had the opportunity to go back and fix the mistakes she made that summer would she, just to see what'd happen. Just to see how her life would turn out.

All of those questions, all of those scenarios kept me up all night. I couldn't shut my brain off. I couldn't stop thinking about what happened in the past. My mom waited for Corey. She wanted to tell him about me. She stayed in Des Moines for nine months before she finally gave up. I'm angry at my mom for giving up, but I'm angrier at Corey for not coming back sooner. He could've changed our lives. My present could be entirely different if he just came back sooner. It doesn't matter if he came back the day I was born or hours before we left, as long as he came back. Everything would be different.

Did I feel bad for doing what I did last night? Yes. It was uncalled for and it was downright mean. I shouldn't have done that to Corey, he was seventeen when all of this happened. It was eighteen years ago, he's changed. Corey isn't that young and wild seventeen year old boy anymore; he's thirty-four years old with two kids and a fiancée, and a mortgage and all of those responsible adult things. I have no right to be mad at him for things that happened in the past. I wasn't even there but somehow I'm a part of those events. But I have no right to be mad at him for not knowing. Why am I mad at him? He's not responsible for what happened those nine months in Des Moines. He had no idea my mom was even in Des Moines. He was just a kid who was running away from a bad situation.

I couldn't help but scoff.

"I guess it's genetic." I told myself, sipping the hot coffee. I was sitting on the built in couch by one of the windows in my room. The storm that hit was blasphemy. It rained heavily and without any hesitation to stop anytime soon. The lightning was blinding and the thunder sounded like a teenager on a Monday morning, groaning and rolling through the sky with an unburdened ease. The storm began just after six this morning after a few hours of rest. I just sat in my seat for nearly five hours and looked out the window, quietly. I didn't watch a movie or listen to music. I just sat there are stared at the storm outside, listening to the wind, the rain and the wholesome sounds of the household. There won't be much peace later when Griffin arrives for his scheduled visit. Corey gets two weeks straight with him before and after tours before they go back to the regular joined custody.