Irish stepped inside as the scent of Pine-Sol smacked her senses. Looking around, she noticed that the house was still filled with clutter. Piles of clothes, old newspapers, and boxes were stacked in the living area, limiting room for walking. Being here was a reminder of the past Irish tried so hard to forget. It was the history that dressed up like a ghost and haunted her every chance it could.
“So, uh… how you been?” she asked, looking around at the mess.
Her mother, Daisy, plopped down in her recliner. Grabbing her cigarette from the ashtray, she inhaled deeply and blew out the noxious fumes. Irish hated these visits. If she could skip without guilt consuming her, she would without a second thought. The surface talk, uncomfortable disposition, and constant guilt shaming drained her like a dish rag.
“I’ve been the same, Irish. Maybe, if you came over more than once a month, you would know that.”
Resisting the desire to roll her eyes, Irish nodded. “Did you go to the doctor this month?”
“Yes, and they wouldn’t refill my prescription,” she complained, shaking her head. “This damn back pain has been terrible, and I shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”
“Why wouldn’t they refill your prescription?”
Daisy huffed, filling the room with more smoke. Irish couldn’t wait to flee the house. She was terrified of her hair and clothes smelling like cigarette smoke.
“Because they said it wasn’t time. They don’t understand that I have to double up sometimes because the pain is so damn bad.” Suddenly, the disdain that was fixed on her features vanished within an instant. “Hey, do you think you can have Jovanis get me some pills until I can fill my prescription?”
A chuckle resounded from her mouth. Irish had been waiting on the minute she would ask her for something. It always happened during these visits. She would complain, ask for a favor, then proceed to dump on her.
“I’ll check,” she lied.
“Oh, please, I know what that means.” Daisy scoffed while flicking her hand. “You’re sending me off like you always do. I don’t know why you treat me so bad, Irish. I am your mother, ya know.”
Here we go…
One visit per month was far too much, at this point. Irish had to hear the same damn script every time she was in Daisy’s presence. Long ago, it used to penetrate her. The shaming and the guilt would infect Irish so badly that she would leave the house in tears. After years of the emotional toll her mother always took her on, she had come to the decision to cut her mother off emotionally. She refused to allow Daisy to get to her heart. In fact, her heart had been out of commission for years. Sealed shut. No access because Daisy didn’t deserve it.
“I’m aware that you’re my mother. That’s why I come to check on you every month.” Irish smiled.
Daisy pinched her inner tear ducts, conjuring up tears that wouldn’t move Irish.
“You know, ever since I lost my Emanuel, you have been so mean to me. All you care about is yourself and Jovanis. Why is it so hard for you to be here for me, Irish? What did I do to you that was so bad that you gotta treat me like crap?”
Irish looked toward the door, counting down the minutes before she made her exit.
“I’m not sure why you think I treat you like crap, but I can assure you that I care about you.”
Just not that much…
Daisy glared at her. “Then, how come you never supported me when Emanuel died? Why did I have to mourn all alone?”
Because he was a piece of shit…
“Well, for one, somebody had to take care of Ivory. Did you forget that your mourning lasted for years? You completely stopped taking care of her. I had to step up and make sure she was good.”
Daisy shook her head, forcing out a lone tear. “Y’all both treat me like crap. Is that why she doesn’t come home to me? When she has a break, she goes straight to your house like you’re her mother. I can’t believe you two treat me the way you do.”
Irish had watched this episode titled Self-Pity many times and was over it. She rummaged through her tote, pulled out an envelope and placed it on the table by the door.
“This is money for your bills. I will see you next month, Mama. Call me if there’s an emergency, okay? Bye.”
Irish opened the door and walked out the house. Shielding her eyes with her hand from the sun, she got inside hercar and released a weighty breath. This sigh was filled with all the anxiety she had collected while in Daisy’s presence. Gripping the steering wheel with her hands, she sat in silence, hoping her sanity would come back. After a while, she reached into her bag and grabbed her phone. Dialing Jovanis, she hoped he would be available to talk.
“What’s up, Irish?”
“Hey, where are you?”
“On the east side. Why?”
