Page 29 of Until Tomorrow Comes
This past year has been eye opening to many things. The biggest of which is my mother’s complete lack of respect for boundaries. She finds a way to turn any situation to be abouther, even making it sound as if saying “no” to something is a personal attack to her.
“Jackson Turner, please think about how this is making me feel. How am I supposed to be happy when my sons aren’t even talking to each other?”
My teeth are clenched so tightly it hurts, while every inch of me feels like it’s burning. The realization that she’s putting her own best interest before my own, once again, settles like an ache in my chest.
While I do want her to be happy, a larger part of me doesn’t understand how she can be okay with any happiness that stems from one of the worst times of my life.
“Mom,” I start to say through gritted teeth, but she cuts me off.
“Seriously, he apologized. He can’t change what he did and I’m sure he feels bad enough.”
I stand motionless, staring at my mother, unable to think of anything to say that would keep this situation from escalating.
But what’s the point? She clearly doesn’t care about my feelings, why should I care about hers?
It’s easy enough to think that or to tell myself that I need to stand my ground. But at the end of the day, the same reminder bounces through my head: She’s my mom.
I struggle to reconcile the backhanded compliments and sense of entitlement, with the fact that she raised us with love. It took me a while to realize that her love came with steep prices though. Growing up, I thought that her saying “I brought you into this world” or “I put the roof over your head and food on the table” were normal things for mothers to say. Only for my therapist to point out they are a form of manipulation.
Fighting to stay calm, I’m about to tell her to leave when I feel a hand brush up my arm, squeezing my bicep. Glancing down I find Kat standing next to me and brace myself, expecting to find pity, or even sorrow. But instead only find pure determination shining in her eyes.
Her jaw is set, brows slightly furrowed as she stares up at me. She shakes her head once, nostrils flaring as she glances over her shoulder at my mom. Something briefly flashes across Kat’s face, but it’s gone before I can determine what it is.
Kat clears her throat, gently squeezing my arm once more before dropping her hand and speaking up.
“We have to get going soon, right Jackson?” She asks in a quiet tone that doesn’t match her burning gaze. My brows furrow slightly, and I’m about to shake my head in confusion, when she raises a brow at me.
It’s almost as if I can hear her say “play along.”
With a nod, I face my mom.
“Kat’s right, we’re heading into the city and need to get going.”
I can tell my mom is about to try and get in another word about Todd, so I cut her off.
“Don’t,” I snap.
I instantly regret the harshness in my tone, not because of the hurt that flashes across my mothers face, but for the way Kat steps away in response.
Unsure of how to apologize to Kat, I focus on giving her space and getting rid of my mom first.
“I’ll walk you out, Ma.”
She grumbles in response, but doesn’t say no. I round the island, motioning for her to go first but she stalls.
“It was wonderful to meet you,” she says, facing Kat and smiling sweetly. “Will I see you again?”
Kat blinks once, clearly lost in her thoughts. When she smiles back at my mom, it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“It was so nice to meet you too, Linda. Thank you for the delicious pastries, I haven’t had a muffin that good in forever,” Kat answers, deflecting my mom’s question.
Thankfully, it only takes five more minutes of nodding and saying “yes Ma” half a dozen times before I finally am able to get my mom out of the house.
Once the door shuts behind her, I lean against it, gathering my thoughts.
This was not how I thought my morning would go.
The day had started off uniquely light and carefree. Yet somehow I feel like it shouldn’t surprise me that all it took was an hour with my mother for that to change.
