Page 61 of The Backtrack
“Not to interrupt,” Jessie said as she lit the wick of a candle. “But do you want some hurricane punch? It’s got a nice kick to it.”
“I don’t drink anymore,” Bonnie said.
Sam was in shock. How else to explain why she didn’t let fly the hundred questions she’d had percolating for her mother since the day Bonnie walked out of her life?
Why did you leave?
What did I do wrong?
Did you ever even love me?
Instead, the only thing that came out of Sam’s mouth was, “I’ll have some punch.” Because, really, if ever there was a time to drink, it was now.
Jessie wasted no time opening the slow cooker and ladling out a cup.
“Sam,” her mom said. “You’re so grown-up.”
“I’m thirty-two,” Sam said. “The last time you saw me was when I was a teenager, so...yeah. I grew up. On my own.” Sam hadn’t known she’d be this angry but well, she was.
Jessie handed Sam a cup and her timing couldn’t have been better. Sam hadn’t had more of the hurricane punch yet, but her insides had taken a punch to the gut. She gulped without looking and held back the cough that threatened to spill out.
And Jessie, ever the purveyor of Southern hospitality, opened her arms to Bonnie for a hug. “Welcome home,” Jessie said. Bonnie hugged her back, but kept her eyes trained on Sam.
Sam held her gaze. This wasn’t Bonnie’s home, not anymore, and she didn’t exactly want her mother to think she was welcome there.
“I know this must be really strange, Sam,” Bonnie said as she pulled out of the hug. “It’s been years, like you said. I would’ve seen you sooner...” Bonnie chanced a look at Pearl, whose face had hardened. “When you’re ready, I’d love to talk to you about what happened. Get to know you, if you’ll let me.”
“You never bothered to get to know me before. What changed?” Sam crossed her arms to protect herself.
“Sam,” Pearl warned, stepping between them as if anticipating a fight.
But Bonnie put a gentle hand on Pearl’s shoulder. “I deserve that.” She lifted her soaked top, and then touched a hand to her hair, which was flattened in a wet mop.
“Bonnie, why don’t you go clean up a bit?” Pearl offered.
“By all means, try to wash the guilt off.” Sam gestured toward the bathroom.
“Sam,” Pearl chastised.
“What?” Sam bitterly laughed. “We can’t make jokes now that Bonnie’s back?”
Bonnie didn’t respond to the jab, though. She turned around and searched the space, almost like she didn’t even remember where the bathroom was. And maybe she didn’t; eighteen years was a long time to be gone, even if she had grown up in this house. Eventually, Bonnie walked down the hall and toward the bathroom.
Pearl grabbed Sam’s hand, which was when she realized that her fists were clenched into two angry little balls at her sides.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Pearl said. “I didn’t think she’d come at all.”
“I understand,” Sam said, even though she didn’t. Bonnie never wanted the house, or Tybee, or her old high school T-shirts—or Sam. She’d abandoned those things and fled, so shouldn’t she do them all the favor of never coming back?
“She can’t stay here,” Sam added.
“Well, we can’t just send her out in the storm.” Pearl chewed her lip. “But maybe we can tie her to the fence outside for a bit and let her think about what she’s done.”
Sam glanced at Pearl, not taking the easy route of smirking back. Pearl seemed to take the hint, as she added, “As soon as the storm clears, we can talk about options. But, Sam, she’s my daughter and your mama. If she came all this way, I’m guessing it’s for more than some old junk.”
Sam swallowed. She wasn’t so sure that Grandma Pearl was right—her mom was selfish. There was a distinct possibility that she’d come solely because she’d realized that her favorite tank top hadn’t made it with her in the mad dash to leave town.
The bathroom door opened, and Sam and Pearl stared down the hallway at Bonnie. Bonnie froze under their scrutiny, then shook her head as she walked toward them. “The walls in this house have always been paper thin. My therapist said that if y’all want me to leave, I should respect that.” Then she moved toward Sam. “And I understand why you’d want that, but I do hope you’ll give me a chance to talk to you. Even if it’s just for a few minutes. I need to say a few things.”
