Page 35 of Finn

“I want to make a good impression,” she says, smiling.

I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. She’s hopeful, and I hate it because she’s going to be disappointed. “Mia, she’s not going to remember this. She might not even be conscious when we get there. Don’t get your hopes up about hearing childhood stories or seeing a smiling face. This is gonna be real and raw. Nothing you are used to seeing. Addiction takes on many forms, and my mom is the worst of the worst. Just be prepared for that,” I say.

She wraps her arms around my neck and smiles up at me. “I’m not expecting anything. I’m looking forward to seeing where you grew up and being supportive of everything you’ve been through. Don’t worry about me. I can handle it,” she says.

We’ll see about that.

When we pull up to my mom’s trailer, I turn off my bike and stare at it. A flood of bad memories comes rushing at me, and I want to turn and leave. I fucking hate it here. The rage I feel. The disappointment that washes over me. The way my body tightens as my defenses go up. Nothing good happened here, and I hate that Mia is going to be tainted with it now.

“So, this is where you lived?” she asks, looking at the trailer.

“Yeah, come on, let’s get this over with,” I mumble, grabbing her hand.

I don’t want her here longer than necessary. I don’t want the evil to even creep close to her. This is just to prove things can be worse. Which, from her uncertain face, seems to be working.

I bang on the door and open it, sticking my head inside. “Mom,” I yell.

Christ, I hope she’s not dead. Mia doesn’t need to see that.

Something falls in the bedroom, and I pull Mia inside the small trailer. It’s just a tiny area that both of us fill up. It’s horribly messy and smells of old cigarettes and dust. There are dishes all over the tiny counter, spilling out of the sink. The floor is littered with cigarette butts and ashes. The table has a white coating over it with straws, razors, and a few mirrors.

“Mom!” I yell.

I shake my head, glancing down at Mia. Her eyes are heavy with pity, and I quickly look away. Pity is not something I want or need. This is all for her, not me.

The sheet blocking off the bedroom from the rest of this shit hole opens, and my mom steps through. She looks exactly the same as she did the last time I saw her. Hair a mess. Makeup running down her face. Her clothes were too big and falling off her ridiculously thin body. She looks awful, and when her eyes lift to mine, I grind my teeth to keep from telling her.

“Finn?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

She fumbles around the mess, looking for a cigarette, and pulls one out of the ashtray. It’s half-smoked and who knows how old, considering the amount falling out of it. After it’s lit, she looks between us. “You get this girl knocked up?”

I step toward her, but Mia rests her hand on my stomach. “No, Ma’am, I’m not pregnant. I’m Finn’s girlfriend. It’s a pleasure to meet the mother of such a wonderful man.”

“You know, Finn will one day walk among kings,” my mom says.

She licks her finger and wipes it on the mirror, hoping to get any leftover cocaine. She’s probably waiting for someone to drop off more now.

“I think he already does,” Mia says.

“Please, don’t feed into her crazy talk,” I hiss, keeping my eyes on my mom.

She gives a bitter laugh and falls onto the couch that used to be my bed. “I’m not crazy. I see things that haven’t happened yet,” she says, staring at the cigarette burning between her fingers.

“Mom, when was the last time you ate?” I ask, ignoring her ramblings.

Her heavy eyes lift to mine, and she looks between us. “Finn, what the hell are you doing here? Who’s this?” She jumps up, running her hands down her messy hair. “You could’ve let me know we had company.”

What the fuck?

“Mom, I already told you this is Mia, my girlfriend,” I say.

She looks over at me, and I see confusion in her eyes. “Mia?”

“Yes, Ma’am, I’m Mia Woodward. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mia gently says.

My mom looks between us, and her eyes widen. “Get out. Get the fuck out of here now.”

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