Page 71 of You Were Invited
"Fifteen more hours until that shindig at the diner,” Serene Hallowbrew whispered.Her reemergence after nearly two weeks of silence jarred Annie even more awake.“There’s no way he won’t be there....”
Then another thought came to her, almost as a feeling, or rather an epiphany that came from the ether. Again, it wasn’t the imaginary voice she’d been chained to for years, but something that felt like her own soul.
When expecting only and nothing but perfection, we get nothing. He could be worth it.
Maybe some bridges weren’t meant to burn. Maybe some bridges weren’t meant to be crossed alone…
She combed through her memories of the things her therapist had said to her. Maybe a tidbit of wisdom from hersessions had marinated in her head and returned to the surface. One thing she knew her therapist had for sure brought up was that sometimes distrust was inevitable when parents walk out on their children. Leaving them behind with an abuser like a casualty on the battlefield.
At a yucky, itchy memory, Annie’s muscles tensed.
Shortly after Annie had started college, she’d finally asked Mom why she’d run away. She’d been thinking about it more and more, venting about it to Molly, especially now that they’d made the escape to college.
“You deserve to know, Annie. I don’t think she’s going to tell you unless you ask,” Molly had said.
“I do deserve to know,” Annie had said, perhaps a little high on bitter courage. “It’s the least she can do.”
Annie had invited Mom out to lunch, though after a few cancellations, they’d finally settled on supper at Olive Garden instead. By that point, what courage Annie had gathered up barely delivered her to the moment she’d been anticipating, fantasizing about, for years.
Mom hadn’t seemed thrilled to have the topic sprung on her, but she’d spared no details.
"I got pregnant with you at seventeen, almost eighteen, y’know, and your dad was barely seventeen, so he did the right thing by me, but I shoulda said no when he proposed. We were too young. I certainly didn’t know myself, though I didn’t know that I didn’t. And I guess I’ve always felt lost. People definitely called me lost when I ran– sorry, abandoned– my family.” She shook her head. “You know what’s worse than a deadbeat dad? A deadbeat mom. You know how many times I’ve been called that? That friend of yours… Molly? And her mom? Vanessa was it? Now she was a good mom. I couldn’t take you away from her.” Mom paused. “She was a very good mom.”
“I do love Vanessa,” Annie had murmured over her plate of fettuccine.But she’s not my mom, she thought, the words tipping her tongue. Instead, she stuck a bite of the creamy pasta into her mouth before twirling her chest-length brown hair between her fingers.
“And I just wouldn’t have had time or the money for you,” her mom shrugged, not meeting Annie’s eye, “and you had such a good school.”
“Yeah.”
“You woulda been miserable while I was traveling for work.” Mom sighed, a small smile turning up the corners of her lips. Her eyes lit up and went a little watery. “Becoming a flight attendant was the best decision I ever made. Great benefits. And oh, Lord, the places I’ve been able to see! The men, too. Real men. Maybe I’ll show you the photos I’ve taken some time.”
“Mmm-hmmm…” Annie tried to smile around her fork, but she wasn’t so sure she was convincing anybody. Mom really did make her life sound amazing. “I still have some of your post cards.” Sent a few times a month, with a line or two explaining where the mail had been sent from. Where Mom had visited that week, while Annie could’ve counted on both hands how many times she’d seen Mom in person since she’d run off.
A couple minutes had passed, and Annie wondered if that was it. That was all she’d ever get out of Mom. Now that Annie had her answer, she was glad Mom was able to make up for lost time, to be free, but… it felt… just… Annie couldn’t put her finger on it exactly.
Mom suddenly grew tense, her irritation reaching across the table and filling Annie with unease. “If I didn’t leave,” Mom finally said, all the brightness gone from her voice, “I was either going to kill your father or kill myself.” Mom sliced through thechicken on her plate, her knuckles white as she gripped her fork and knife. They clattered against the ceramic.
Annie blinked, her bite of food halfway to her mouth. She’d never imagined that her mom’s decision to leave had really been a matter of life or death. To be driven to the brink of homocide… suicide even? “That sounds awful,” Annie replied, brow furrowed. Could she really fault her mom for living her life after such a draining marriage?
Relief softened some of the anger on her mom’s face. “It was awful! I waited as long as I could,” Mom said, shrugging again. “I knew you’d graduate soon enough and find your own way to get away, too. You’re smart, Ninnie. There was no way I could afford to take care of us both. And I didn’t have it in me to fight for you in court. And even if I’d won? I didn’t know where I’d end up. I was scared for your stability. At a time when a girl needs the most routine in her life. You had to give that to yourself because I couldn’t, and I knew you could.”
Annie’s eyes flashed open as she broke from the memory. Her breath caught in her chest as remembered staring back at the woman across the table, her young self hearing what Mom had said, only grasping the surface, but sensing that there was something unspoken underneath her confession that had really bothered her. The restaurant had grown too loud. The light over the table had shone down too brightly. It had cast harsh shadows over their supper plates. Her mom’s facial features.
Now Annie knew why it had hurt.
Mom had expected Annie to fight. Alone.
Every girl for herself.
She didn’t remember all of what she’d said to Mom after that, what they’d talked about. Annie vaguely remembered more talk about self-preservation, and it felt like they’d really bonded over that.
“I’m so proud of you,” Mom had said before they’d parted, setting a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “You’ve got such a bright future now that you’re away from that bastard…”
Annie cringed at how that alone had soothed her ego, made her feel seen somehow. Like they were both survivors from the same abuser. Equal.
How the fuck had she managed to sit for an entire two hours listening to her mother’s bullshit? Not asked Mom why she hadn’t picked a different job? Pulled Annie out, too?
She’d known plenty of kids with parents who were either in the military or who worked jobs with long hours. Granted, the parent at home wasn’t just as absent as the one working the difficult job.
