all I want to do is leave. I stay though, for
Momma, even though it makes a serious dent in my pride.
When 4:30 rolls around I reach for the
handle of the Jetta. My phone rings in my back pocket so I grab it, noticing
Heidi’s dimpled face and bright hazel eyes lighting up the screen.
“Hey girl.”
“Kimber, did I time it right or what? Are
you done at the Bruin’s?”
I laugh, “You’re lucky she let me leave
when she did, time waster. You made me late this morning.”
“Ahhh no, Andrew made you late. He showed
back up in your life and screwed with your mojo.”
“Damn, Heidi, I almost forgot about that
whole fiasco this morning. You would have to go and bring it back up.”
She giggles, “Just keepin it real. What’s
this thing going on tonight?”
I sigh at having to go over this with her
again. Sometimes she can be so stubborn, “This thing is nothing, I have
to work, and that’s all. You as usual have nothing going on so if you want to
catch up, you should stop by the Duck and I’ll buy you a beer.” I add to make
it even sweeter, “It’s Monday night, so no one will even know you showed your
face.” God forbid.
“Umm, I’ll think about it.”
Frustration rings in my voice, “What is
there to think about you told me this morning that you’d come? Either come or
not, I’ll be there regardless.”
“Okay, I think I can make it.” She exasperates
me when she drags her feet like this.
Abruptly I end the call climbing into my
car, “Okay girl, see you tonight.”
My hand moves out of habit to caress the
dash, while pleading silently with my car not to give me any problems. It
starts right up with the turn of the key. Pulling down the long drive under the
canopy of bright green leaves overhead, I notice the grey clouds rolling across
the sky. A rainy, Monday night, it’s not going to be very busy at the bar. Super.
When I pull into the short dirt drive, torrents
of rain are enveloping my house. A glance around the car reminds me, I forgot
to put the umbrella back in here after the last time a storm hit. Great.
I open the door and dash to the front of the house with my key ready.
Unfortunately, that small expanse between the car and the door drench me. As
soon as I walk in, my mom’s scratchy voice calls out, “Kimber, is that you
girl?”
“Yes, Momma, I just got done at Mrs.
Bruin’s.”
I run my hand through my now soaking wet
hair as I answer and make my way to the kitchen. The sight is the same as
usual. She’s sitting at the rickety kitchen table with a stained laminate
surface. Her posture is slanted as she leans in for support. The hair on her
head has just about completely changed to gray, oily from lack of a shower.
Tiny hints of blonde still stand out, but just barely. Before she got sick she
took better care of herself. We used to look alike. Once upon a time her eyes
were a vibrant blue and she was so full of life. Now it seems the disease has
taken all the color from her. Her eyes are more of a steel grey, dulling more
each day.
“Hey Momma, you want some help getting’
into the shower before I get ready for work?”
She turns toward me with a cigarette hanging
half out of her mouth and utters around it, “You didn’t tell me Jenna’s in
town.”
Shit. How’d she find out? “No, Momma I didn’t. She said she wouldn’t be here long.” I let my
voice trail off. It’s obvious from the slur in her words that she’s had a lot
to drink today. She started with a glass of vodka this morning, I wonder if
she’s been at it all day.
Her voice takes on a whiny quality, “I know
you girls are done with me. Jenna don’t even wanna visit anymore.”
Oh boy, here comes the guilt. She’ll go
into this whole spiel about how we don’t love her and we’d be better off
without her.
I lurch forward and slide my arm around her
bony back. She’s not eating again; the vodka is going to have to go. I take her
cigarette away and put it out in the ashtray. Grasping
Momma, even though it makes a serious dent in my pride.
When 4:30 rolls around I reach for the
handle of the Jetta. My phone rings in my back pocket so I grab it, noticing
Heidi’s dimpled face and bright hazel eyes lighting up the screen.
“Hey girl.”
“Kimber, did I time it right or what? Are
you done at the Bruin’s?”
I laugh, “You’re lucky she let me leave
when she did, time waster. You made me late this morning.”
“Ahhh no, Andrew made you late. He showed
back up in your life and screwed with your mojo.”
“Damn, Heidi, I almost forgot about that
whole fiasco this morning. You would have to go and bring it back up.”
She giggles, “Just keepin it real. What’s
this thing going on tonight?”
I sigh at having to go over this with her
again. Sometimes she can be so stubborn, “This thing is nothing, I have
to work, and that’s all. You as usual have nothing going on so if you want to
catch up, you should stop by the Duck and I’ll buy you a beer.” I add to make
it even sweeter, “It’s Monday night, so no one will even know you showed your
face.” God forbid.
“Umm, I’ll think about it.”
Frustration rings in my voice, “What is
there to think about you told me this morning that you’d come? Either come or
not, I’ll be there regardless.”
“Okay, I think I can make it.” She exasperates
me when she drags her feet like this.
Abruptly I end the call climbing into my
car, “Okay girl, see you tonight.”
My hand moves out of habit to caress the
dash, while pleading silently with my car not to give me any problems. It
starts right up with the turn of the key. Pulling down the long drive under the
canopy of bright green leaves overhead, I notice the grey clouds rolling across
the sky. A rainy, Monday night, it’s not going to be very busy at the bar. Super.
When I pull into the short dirt drive, torrents
of rain are enveloping my house. A glance around the car reminds me, I forgot
to put the umbrella back in here after the last time a storm hit. Great.
I open the door and dash to the front of the house with my key ready.
Unfortunately, that small expanse between the car and the door drench me. As
soon as I walk in, my mom’s scratchy voice calls out, “Kimber, is that you
girl?”
“Yes, Momma, I just got done at Mrs.
Bruin’s.”
I run my hand through my now soaking wet
hair as I answer and make my way to the kitchen. The sight is the same as
usual. She’s sitting at the rickety kitchen table with a stained laminate
surface. Her posture is slanted as she leans in for support. The hair on her
head has just about completely changed to gray, oily from lack of a shower.
Tiny hints of blonde still stand out, but just barely. Before she got sick she
took better care of herself. We used to look alike. Once upon a time her eyes
were a vibrant blue and she was so full of life. Now it seems the disease has
taken all the color from her. Her eyes are more of a steel grey, dulling more
each day.
“Hey Momma, you want some help getting’
into the shower before I get ready for work?”
She turns toward me with a cigarette hanging
half out of her mouth and utters around it, “You didn’t tell me Jenna’s in
town.”
Shit. How’d she find out? “No, Momma I didn’t. She said she wouldn’t be here long.” I let my
voice trail off. It’s obvious from the slur in her words that she’s had a lot
to drink today. She started with a glass of vodka this morning, I wonder if
she’s been at it all day.
Her voice takes on a whiny quality, “I know
you girls are done with me. Jenna don’t even wanna visit anymore.”
Oh boy, here comes the guilt. She’ll go
into this whole spiel about how we don’t love her and we’d be better off
without her.
I lurch forward and slide my arm around her
bony back. She’s not eating again; the vodka is going to have to go. I take her
cigarette away and put it out in the ashtray. Grasping
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