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“So if I try to stroke it, he won’t take my hand off?”
“I guess the only way to find out is to be brave and see.” There’s humor in her tone that I don’t appreciate because I like my hands. I fucking need my hands.
The beast stares me down, and I don’t know whether he’s gonna lunge or purr some more, but when the back of my knuckles brush against his head, he closes his eyes.
“Weird, he usually hates strangers,” Sapphire says, kissing him on the head.
And now I’m jealous of a cat.
My eyes narrow as I pull away. “You knew there was a possibility he’d bite me and you still let me pet him?”
“Relax,” she chides. “I’m joking. Pickles is a softie through and through. He’d never hurt anyone who’s good to his momma.”
I swallow, unsure as Pickles opens his eyes and stares at me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s a stand-off. He knows the pussy I’m here for ain’t a damn Maine coon.
“I think I’ll take my chances and keep my hands to myself.”
“Wuss,” she says, setting Pickles on the ground. He sits, staring up at her with awe in his eyes. I can see I have some competition here if he rules the damn house.
“So, what happened with your mom?”
I almost forgot why I came, and the main reason wasn’t to talk about my mom. It was to see her.
I fill her in, and when I’m done, she has sympathy in her eyes. “I get where you’re coming from, but you still should’ve told Mika.”
“I was going to.”
She levels me with a glare that reads: bull shit, and says, “When? After your meal?”
“Don’t give me a hard time. You know what it was like growin’ up with that woman. She didn’t give a shit about us, and now all of a sudden, she’s ready to be our mom? What if I’m not ready to be her son?”
I’ll never say it out loud, but my wounds run deep. I looked up to my mom. No matter what she did to us, no matter how many times she left us alone at night to go partying with her friends, I was always glad when she returned home safe. I was the protector, even as a seven-year-old who looked after my baby sister. It wasn’t right, but it’s all I knew. My mom’s abuse started early in her life, and I never knew about it until much later in mine. While that kills me, it doesn’t excuse what she did. We deserved better. We were innocent, too.
“Maybe she didn’t know any better,” Sapphire says, her smile small. “Her best wasn’t anywhere near good enough, and I’m not saying you should forgive her, but this is an opportunity to go one way or the other. It’s also up to Mika what she wants to do. You can’t shield her from seeing your mom forever.”
I rub my chin. This woman calms me—she always has. I ran to her because she’s the only one who will give me solid advice without sugarcoating it.
“I can’t trust her.”
“Then you need to decide whether you get to a place where you can, or you cut her off for good.”
I swallow, looking at the ground. “She hurt us.” Hurt me.
Sapphire reaches for me, cupping the side of my face. “I know that, and I’m sorry. I wish it could’ve been different for you, for all of us, but life throws curveballs, and it’s up to us to make sense of which direction we take when we’re older.”
“Am I just supposed to forget what she did?”
“Of course not, but if you decide to move forward, you also can’t keep throwing that in her face. Have it out with her, by all means, but once that’s dead and buried, you’re only torturing yourself if you keep reliving it.”
To be honest, I’ve never really looked at it like that.
“I’ve been avoidin’ her for a long time because of how much damage I know she can do. I’m a big boy; I’ll get over it, but Mika? She won’t recover if Mom decides to up and run again.”
“I can’t tell you what to do,” she says. “But Mika is an adult. You can’t protect her from what she really wants to do. And if she wants to have a relationship with her mom, you can’t stop her. That’s the chance we take when we forgive.”
I stare at her. “Is that what it was like for you and Reap, with your father?”
Her lips part, and a strange look washes over her face, as if she’s recalling some memory she’d rather not drag up. “I wouldn’t know. I never forgave him.”
