Page 86 of When Stars Collide
“Okay, clearly I’ve struck a nerve. Why don’t we just agree to disagree—”
“I’m not done yet. Who would you have me be with, Mom? Tell me. What pretentious douche bag do you have in mind for me? Because I’d really like to know.”
Melissa laid a cautious hand on my shoulder. “Mena, please.” One glare from me and she backed down.
“You know, I can’t do this anymore,” I shook my head, tears blurring my vision.
My mother sighed. “That’s good because you’re making a scene.”
“No, you’re misunderstanding me. I mean, I can’t do this anymore.” Igestured around the table. “My whole life, nothing I’ve ever done has ever been quite good enough for you. Not graduating with highest honors from high school or summa cum laude from Cogsworth. Not getting a job in New York City, where I’ve been making it on my own without help from anyone. Absolutely nothing. So, you know what? Here.” I plunked a hundred-dollar bill down on the table and stood up. “Thank you for showing your … concern for my well-being. Yeah, we’ll call it concern. I will now be returning to the apartment that I share with my lesbian roommate, who’s a little rough around the edges but generally a good person, and back to a life you’ll never understand or accept, because it doesn’t fit into your cookie-cutter idea of what a woman’s life should be. I’ll be doing all of this, but not before I pay for your dinner with the money I made from my ‘book job’.”
It was a rare occasion that Marilyn Straszewski was rendered speechless. In fact, I’d only heard tell of it happening once before, several years before I was born. So long ago that I doubted whether it had ever happened at all. But right at that moment, there was no doubting it. My mother was speechless. Words certainly flew at a frenzied pace in her head, but they failed to escape her lips, and that was all that mattered.
I chose to leave then, without even a glance back in my mother’s direction, and I must tell you, it felt damn liberating.
*****
“You’re home early,” Jo observed, looking at the clock when I walked through the door. “What, did you take your mom to a McDonald’s or something?” She turned around to sit on her knees, leaning over the back of the couch so that she could face me without getting up. “Oh please, please tell me you took Marilyn to a fast food restaurant and called it good.” She held her hands together in front of her as though in prayer when she spoke.
“No, I did one better and took her to that shitty Mexican place down the street.”
“Nah, that place is still a step up from any place that serves food kept under heat lamps all day.”
“Would it then make you feel better to know that as of thirty minutes ago, I’m most likely officially dead to her?”
“What?” She searched my face for confirmation that I was being sincere. Satisfied that I was, she continued, “As much as I’d love to say yes, etiquette dictates that I tell you how unfortunate that is. And it is … unfortunate, I suppose. She’s your mother; your flesh and blood. But toxic takes on all forms and doesn’t discriminate between familial ties.”
“I’ll drink to that.” I held up a bottle of wine I pulled from the refrigerator.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I answered her, taking a sip from the bottle. “I’ve gotten rid of a cancer from both my body and my soul.”
“That’s deep.” Jo giggled. “A little harsh, and a little dark, but still deep.”
I rummaged through the freezer, taking out a pint of fudge swirl ice cream and setting it down on the counter.
“Didn’t you at least bring some dinner home?”
“Nope. Marilyn and Melissa are going to have to dive into my vegetarian burrito all on their own. I can hear the bitching now.”
A knock on our door startled the both of us. Jo and I shared a glance as I sighed a little louder than I intended to.
“It would appear they’ve brought the bitching to us.” My shoulders slumped at the thought of having to deal with my mother again this evening, and I reflexively grabbed the bottle of wine from the counter as I shuffled to the door, calling back to Jo, “Let’s hope it’s just an encyclopedia salesman.”
“That hasn’t been said since 1985.”
Stress and annoyance levels at an all-time high, I opened the door to find Melissa, and only Melissa, standing on the other side. She stood in the hall staring at me sheepishly, finally moving to speak when I acted like I was getting ready to shut the door in her face.
“Wait, wait.” She held her arm out, ready to stop the door from closing.
“What is it, Melissa? What did Mom ask you to convey to me that she couldn’t herself in some vague social media post?”
“Mom didn’t send me. She told me not to come. She said you were obviously going through some things and taking them out on us, so it was best just to leave you alone to get over it all.”
“Yeah, that checks out.” I leaned against the doorframe with my hip. “Why are you here, then? Think you can convert me to the dark side?”
“No, I’m not delusional. Nor am I here to sell encyclopedias. I’m here because I want to be here. Because I want to talk, because I actually want to have a relationship with my sister.”
