Cheshire Girl

Ch. 35

Mom went out for a drive right afterward.  I went to my room and blasted Imagine Dragons, dozing off and on again on my bed.

                It was evening when Mom came back home.  I didn't go out to meet her, and she didn't come up to see me.  It felt better being alone for a while.

                I fucked up.

                That's the best way to describe it.  I did to her what Ethan did to Charlie… what Celia wanted me to do to Charlie.  I thought keeping Mom in the dark was the best way for her to avoid getting hurt.

                Well, it didn't work. 

                By not telling her bad things… I thought I was helping her, but in reality I was actually helping myself.  I didn't want to be the one to deliver the bad news.   I didn't want to be the messenger.  Stephanie Ramos had taken it upon herself to bite the bullet.  She became the mouthpiece on her and the other woman's behalf.

                When Mom came home, Stephanie looked… ready.  She looked ready to accept her punishment, her affair-made son in her arms, sleeping, as Stephanie waited for my mother to speak.  They stared at each other.  Stephanie wasn't hiding anymore.

                Mom gave me all the money she had in her wallet and told me to go to the mall.  She was going to call me when she was ready to pick me up.

                I wasn't there for the confrontation between Dad, his mistresses, and Mom, but I could guess what had happened.  When Mom came to pick me up, her eyes were red and puffy… her voice was hoarse.  It cracked as she told me she and Dad were getting a divorce.  Dad and the two women and the baby weren't there when we got home.  Mom had dropped me off and went out for a drive, not getting home until late in the evening.

                The sad part was that Mom kept me informed about everything—about the entire process.  She told me when the meetings were, what was going to be discussed, and what happened after.  I listened to every word she said, even the thing about going to counseling, mute with guilt. 

                It ate at me, honestly, and I hated being around people.  It felt like they could see what I tried to hide.  I alienated my friends.

                Counseling was the worst.  I'd chosen to hide right in front of a trained professional, whose job was getting to people talk.  I still didn't understand why I wrote on my arms in red pen, and let the counselor believe I was cutting myself.  I masked one problem by faking another.

                I could never cut myself, by the way.  I have a low tolerance for pain.

                I was worried I would talk and say what had been said between me and Dad.  I was afraid someone would see I'd picked up the habit of secret-keeping from Dad… that I was like him… lying to avoid hurting someone. 

                I lied to protect… but I was never protecting Mom.

*

I woke up early next morning—it was school again.

                I thought Mom hadn't got up, but when I went to the kitchen, I found breakfast on the table.  There was a note next to it saying that I could use the car… which meant she wasn't going anywhere today.

                I forced myself to eat the egg sandwich with the side of bacon, and then the orange juice.  The last thing I wanted to do was eat—I didn't eat any dinner yesterday—but getting sick right now was definitely not a good time.