Jaded

Three

THREE

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Light rushed into the room, rousing me from my sleep. I groaned, pulling the blankets over my head. I was not ready to wake up yet. However, it appeared my mother had different ideas. No sooner than I had pulled the covers over my head was she jerking it back. Exposed to the blinding light I slowly cracked my eyes open. It would be impossible to get back to sleep now. My eyes crept up, meeting hers. “What?” I croaked out. She was giving me the most peculiar look. I almost felt uncomfortable.

“I made breakfast.”

“You made breakfast?”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked frustrated. No doubt from her and dad’s argument last night. The day after was always hell. But the flat look she gave me had nothing to do with dad. The surprise was evident in my tone and it annoyed her. She never cooked and the fact that she did today wasn’t necessarily a good thing. “Yes, I said that already, didn’t I? Now get up. I don’t want it getting cold.” She finished speaking, spinning on her heel and leaving me alone in my room.

I sighed, pulling myself up off the bed. I drug myself over to my closet, shuffling through my clothes. I threw on a clingy cotton dress and combed my fingers through my hair, hoping to calm it a bit before heading downstairs. Satisfied, I cut out of my room, hurrying downstairs. I found mom perched at the kitchen counter, her back facing me. I didn’t have to see her face to know she was tense—I could see it in her shoulders. I pushed on, propping myself on a stool. Without saying so much as a word mom pushed my plate over to me. I looked down at the plate, taking in the food. There was a reason my mother didn’t cook a lot. She was a terrible cook.

“Mm, looks good,” I said drily.

“I didn’t have to make you anything.”

I shut my mouth, sensing that her patience was thin. I hadn’t grasped until this moment just how thin. She was still steaming over her argument with dad last night. Thinking this, I glanced around. “Where is dad?” I asked hesitantly. I flicked my eyes over to her, trying to gauge her reaction. I hoped that I hadn’t asked the wrong question. The only sign that she had heard me was the slight stiffening of her spine. She laced her hands together around her coffee, not looking at me. I quickly looked away, picking up my fork.

“He’s gone,” she said softly.

That got my attention.

I set my fork down again, turning ever so slightly to look at her. “What do you mean gone? Is he working on the case today? It’s Saturday,” I said as if this should explain everything. The reality was that it didn’t matter. Dad worked all the time no matter what day it was. It was rare that we saw him at all. But something about the way she had said it made me think that his absence had nothing to do with work. If I was honest with myself I knew that from the second she said he was gone. I just didn’t want to face it. Lies were easier to swallow.

“He left, Spencer.”

I sighed, pushing away from the kitchen island. I was angry now. This was the same crap as always. They would fight and he would leave. We both knew where he went but we never talked about it, or at least she doesn’t talk about it. I never shied away from it. And although I knew I should keep my mouth shut I couldn’t. When I got mad I just ran off—not thinking about what I was saying. “He went to her, didn’t he?” I demanded as I spun around. I braced myself on the counter. “And you just let him. Why don’t you say something? Why do you let him treat you like that? He makes you look like a fool!”

I didn’t see it coming. She had been so quiet that it had lulled me into a false sense of safety, but now her stormy eyes were fastened on me. Her chest was heaving up and down. “You don’t know, Spencer. You don’t know! You want to act self-righteous to me but you have never lived my life,” she hissed at me. She was standing now, leaning against the counter on the opposite side. We had gone from discussing to facing off with each other. And these face offs never ended well. “He wouldn’t be gone if you had behaved at dinner, but no! You just had to smart off to Don. You always think you know better.”