A soft rap sounded on my door a few thirty or so minutes after my outburst. I was laying down, facing the ceiling, deep in thought when my mother stepped inside. My head tilted to her general direction, and when I saw her face I turned my head, and shifted my body so that I was pressing against my bed, burying my face in my pillow for comfort.
I felt the weight of her dip from the edge of my bed slightly, softly she said, "Sadie?", as if she was unsure weather or not to approach me. Finally, I turned and looked at her as I curled up in my sheets. She had an odd look on her face, as if she spent a lot of time contemplating. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and suddenly I felt guilty that maybe I caused her and dad to fight. She looked old and tired, and I was swarmed with feelings of sorrow.
In her hands were two mugs of tea, "I wanted to start off by saying I'm sorry." She said, as if she rehearsed it over and over before coming to talk to me.
I sat up quietly, still not talking. She offered me the tea, which I looked away from in decline. Awkwardly, she put the tea on the table beside my bed.
"And I love you." She added, as if it'd make things better.
My lips were unable to form words. I just sat there, compelled to say something, but unable to find whatever it is I needed to say, so lamely, I shrugged.
She sighed, "Talk to me honey."
"What do you want me to say?" I croaked, voice still hoarse from screaming and crying and just too much talking.
"Say anything- I need to know you're not mad at me. I'm trying to be a good mother." She sighed, running a frustrated hand through her hair, "I'm trying so hard, Sadie."
I shrugged, "You're a good mom. Everything's my fault mostly. But I'm not going to stop seeing Gage." I'd never stop. It'll always be me and him against the world.
Her face was disappointed, but quickly displaced with an expression of reluctant acceptance, "I know."
I was ready to argue, to say nothing she had to say would make me give up him, but I found myself shocked. I sat up, "You know? So, what? No arguments? No trying to make me break up with him?"
My mother rolled her eyes, yes actually rolled her eyes at me, "Honey please. I know you all to well to know that you're too stubborn to listen to anything I have to say. . . Your father on the other hand, may not like it."
That's a lot to say to a girl who thought her whole life she submit to everything anyone had to say. Somehow along the way, I might have doubted my own disposition.
"And besides," She added, "I've been in your shoes too."
Now I was curious, I sat up a bit straighter, "What do you mean . .?" I asked suspiciously.
"Once upon a time, young little Holly Hart was just like you."
It took me a while to put two and two together. My mother's name was Holly. So then it hit me, was she implying she went out with someone like Gage?
"No way," my voice went into a drop whisper, and she seemed amused with my new sudden fascination, "You dated a bad boy?"
She laughed at my word choice, "Yes, honey, if that is what you'd like to call it."
I sat there for a while of silence, then furrowed my eyebrows, "Well, go on."
She smiled, and I listened attentively as her story slipped through, "I broke into the school one night with some friends and people from this party a few blocks down, we popped open three bottles of Vodka," She raked a hand through her hair as I remembered distinctly what vodka tasted like going down my throat. I mentally cringed. She continued, and her eyes went some place far off as she talked, "That's when I met him."
I hadn't noticed I inched in, eager for her to go on, "That same night, he broke into the school with two other friends to steal test answer sheets." She smiled sweetly, "He found me stumbling around like a mad woman in the halls. I was looking for the bathroom. He decided to take me with him, afraid i'd snitch or something. . and that's when it all began."
I stared at my mother in awe, I didn't know she could be so cool and not boring. I didn't know she had a previous life besides being a mother. I took the tea from the table by my bed and took a sip.
To sum it up sweetly, she added, "He told me he'd show me the world, and strapped me down on his 1980's Yamaha brand black motorcycle. So when I say I know you won't listen to me, I know, because I never listened to my parents when they told me the same exact things."
That made me smile a bit more. "So you did date the bad boy." My fingers wrapped around the warm mug, and I took another sip.
Her face was smug, "I didn't just date the bad boy, I married the bad boy."
Hearing that, I quickly spit the tea back into the mug. As I put it down, I wiped my mouth. No way. Dad could never be a bad boy. He's a cop. He's a saint! Practically.
"So. . uhm. . you guys divorced, I take it?" I asked.
Mom roller her eyes at me again, "No, we're still married. With a beautiful daughter."
I still couldn't believe it. "You didn't tell me I had a sister- -"
She cut me off with a stern look, and I laughed despite the mood.
"I can't believe dad was a bad boy. I just cant picture it. Nope." I shook my head.
My mom smiled a bit, "He has a tattoo of a bulldog on his abdomen."
"Okay. . that's just. Weird."
My mom laughed, and I found myself laughing too.
"So," I pondered, "Why did he become a cop. . if he was so. . bad?"
"It's because he was bad, he saw what it did to people. Your dad wasn't always a shining example. There were days when we were together that his mind didn't work as nicely as it always did. There were times when he hated himself, and the world, and me even. But I loved him, and love can change a person. And when he decided he'd love me for the long run too, he also decided that he didn't want to be a bad person. And he continued to love me, and when we had you, he loved even more." She smiled with those words.
I was silent for a moment, taking it all in and pondering the depth of what my mother had said. By how she said it, it sounded that my dad was probably pretty bad. . maybe even more bad than Gage. But i'm bad too, in ways where my mind doesn't always work like I want it to, and my emotions get the best of me. We're all bad, i've learned. The world can shift in endless ways of chaos, but it's the people that decide, like my dad, that they're not going to become part of the chaos. I'm learning now, that I don't have to be apart of the chaos, I can come out of it, and make a shining example of myself too.
And Gage can too.
If my dad was just as bad as my mom said, then I know there's something there for Gage. He's got a heart of gold.
"You know," My mother says after a while, "That is why he's so worried about you. He knows what boys like that do. . he was one of them. He's just, worried. But if you're certain what you and Gage have is good, then it's worth it. Look at me, maybe my life isn't perfect now, but I have you and your father, and that's all the more perfect to me."
I smile, she can be so cheesy sometimes. She softens down my hair with a gentle hand, "Don't worry. I'll talk to your father. I'll remind him how it was like when we were young. I'll get him to understand."
"Thank's mom," I say warmly. Before she can leave, "And Cara?" I ask softly. "She's my best friend."
She sighs, "That girl can be troublesome. But she means well, I can tell. And she means a lot to you. I'm not going to be the mother who strips her daughter of all the joys in her life."
I smile again, "Thanks mom."
As she gets up from the bed, she places a soft kiss on the top of my forehead and makes her way out of my room.
For once I feel as if things are starting to go into my favor. I never really had a heart to heart with my mom, but hearing her open up to me made me feel better. Now I know that I can talk to her, that maybe she's more like me than I've ever known.
We might be identical, even.
And who knows, maybe one day I'll marry the Bad Boy.
That night I called Gage. My feet dangled off the edge of my bed as I stared up at the stars which formed from the sky outside my window. The moon hung bright.
"Princess." He said it as if it was a statement when answering the phone.
"Prince." I responded in monotone.
He chuckled through the reciever, and I heard his breathing against the phone, "What was that?"
"W-Well. . I mean." I turned to my stomach, and hugged the pillow that was below me. "You called me Princess. So. . I thought Prince was fitting."
"You're so corny, Princess."
I rolled my eyes, however he couldn't see. "Yeah yeah."
His voice softened, "How's everything? Are you okay?"
A warm smile spread across my face, and I was content with feeling cared for. "I told my parents about us. . and, at first my mom was mad. My dad was really mad. But, my mom understands. . she's okay with us. And with our friends. My dad will need some convincing. But I think she's got everything. I cried for a while but i'm okay."
I hear him breathe out a sigh, "Good. Good."
We were silent on the line until he said, "I wish you were here." Somewhere along the way his voice had dropped to a near whisper.
I decided to whisper too, thinking my parents were asleep. "I know the feeling."
He chuckled again as if the distance pained him. "Talk to me." He persisted. "You keep going silent."
I bit my lip, "About what?"
"Anything." He urged, "Everything. I love hearing your voice."
My face turned red as I smiled into the phone, "I. . like hearing your voice too."
"Yeah?"
"And. ." I thought for a while, "I also like it when you call me Princess. . .even though I make a mad face everytime you do." I bit my tongue with the sudden realization of how weird that sounded.
His familiar laugh sounded through my right ear, "I know you do."
We stayed on the line until I dozed off an hour or so into the conversation. When I woke up in the morning, my phone lay beside me, still on, almost dying. I checked the screen, and to my surprise, I was still on the line with Gage. On the other end, there was a familiar opening and closing of drawers, and a shuffling around the room.
I pictured Gage wandering around the room, picking out what he'd wear for today.
I made a surprised sound, and sat up in bed.
His voice sounded through my phone, "Morning Princess."
"I can't believe I left the phone on." I said, startled.
He laughed, "No good morning back?" I could almost see him smirking, "I can't believe you fell asleep on me."
"I-I'm so sorry. ." I held the phone with both hands, "Oh my God. My phone bill is going to be so high."
"Hang up. I'm picking you up in twenty minutes, Princess. Be ready."
"O-Oh. Okay. Okay! Yeah. Twenty minutes."
He chuckled again, and I realized I loved that sound. I could almost picture himself shaking his head at me through the phone.
"Bye!" I said quickly,
"Bye." He responded.
I hung up, and put my phone in the charge as I rummaged through my drawers and picked out what I'd wear for the day. The day seemed a bit brighter, and the weight in my chest that I carried on for years seemed a bit less. Even for me, life can have it's glimpses of happiness.