Page 56 of Edge of Heaven

“I’m sorry it came to this.”

“I’m not. I’ll do anything for him.”

“I know. But it shouldn’t be…like this.”

Mom and Toby met Callum last year and neither of them liked him. My mom and I have never discussed the details of my relationship with him, but she knows he’s mean and verbally abusive, and though I’ve never told her about the things he makes me do, or the spankings that leave bruises, she has to know how difficult this has been.

“Three more months. Maybe two if I skip the visit next month. We’ll be back on the east coast so the flights will be a lot more expensive.” I flew in from Oklahoma City today, so it wasn’t too bad.

“Next month is when he’ll be at his most vulnerable immunity-wise,” she says thoughtfully. “It might actually be better if you don’t come. Save the money and give him a little more protection. I’m going to visit less too. I know it’s hard for him to be alone, but we have to make sure he doesn’t get sick.”

“Of course.”

“Are you planning to move home once you break up with Callum?”

“Yes.” I glance at her. “Why? Don’t you want me to?”

“I do. I just…” Her voice trails and she stares straight ahead. “Toby and I have a routine. It might be confusing for him to have you around full-time. You haven’t lived with us full-time since you left for college, and he was little then.”

“Mom, I’m planning to take full custody once this is over,” I say slowly. “That’s always been the goal.”

“You still don’t have a full-time job. Where are you going to live? How are you going to continue his medical care? You live life one day at a time. You don’t save, you don’t have a home, and you seem to enjoy the rock and roll lifestyle. How are you going to add a child to the mix? I don’t mean to sound harsh, but he needs me more than he needs you.”

A tightness fills my chest, and I don’t say anything as I try to gather my thoughts. “Mom, we talked about this. I’m not living and sleeping with a mean, abusive drunk because I want to party and have a good time. I’m literally prostituting myself to save Toby’s life, and you’re throwing it back in my face?!”

My mother sputters for a moment before glancing at me. “What are you talking about? You were dating Callum long before we lost the funding for Toby’s treatment.”

“And I’d just broken up with him! I was literally in the lobby of the hotel waiting to take a cab to the airport so I could come home when you called and told me about the funding. He used this as a way to not only keep me with him but to control every facet of my life. He tells me what to wear, who I can be friends with, even how much I can eat. On top of that, he humiliates me daily—in front of his band, our friends, and the press. His new thing is that he wants me to fuck the other guys in the band while he watches. I’ve managed to put him off but he keeps asking. Do you really think I’m having fun?”

I can’t see it clearly because she’s wearing sunglasses, but I’m pretty sure my mother’s face is red.

“What?” I ask after a long, awkward silence. “You thought Callum is paying Toby’s bills out of the goodness of his heart? You met him—you know exactly what kind of man he is.”

“Then why were you with him in the first place?” she cries. “What does that say about you, that you would date a man like that?”

“When he didn’t have anything to hold over my head, he wasn’t like that. He was a little crass, but we were just having fun. It’s not like I was in love with him. And when it stopped being fun, I ended it. Except then we needed money for Toby and he offered. So don’t you dare try to make me feel bad about this. What would you have done if I didn’t come through? Huh, Mom? Were you going to pull money out of your 401K, or were you going to let him die? What were the options?”

Her knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel so hard.

“I know you’re doing what you need to do, but it just reinforces my feeling that Toby needs to stay with me.”

“How does me doing what I have to for my son make me the bad guy?”

“I didn’t say you were the bad guy—I just think he gets more stability with me.”

“You’re almost fifty,” I say quietly. “This is how you want to spend your middle age? Taking care of a nine-year-old? He’smyson, Mom. And I’m going to get custody of him.”

“Only if I allow it.”

“Seriously? You’re going to keep him from me?”

“You can see him as much as you like, but I think he’s better served in the stable environment I’ve always provided. Unless and until you can provide that for him, I’m not letting you take him.”

I want to scream and cry and rage, but I’m so tired. Dealing with Callum takes up every ounce of energy and fighting with my mom while I’m helpless to change my circumstances serves no purpose.

Once I’m free of Callum, she and I will revisit this conversation.

Until then, I don’t have the strength to argue with her.

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