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The only two who remain are me and the woman who brought me into this world.
The woman who left because Dad was too much.
“Should we go inside?” She motions at our house – mine and Dad’s, not hers. Because she left it without a look back.
I don’t say anything as I stride through the door, knowing she’ll follow. The sound of her heels echoes in the empty hall.
Ahmed greets us at the entrance and stops upon seeing her.
“Hello, Ahmed. How have you been?” She smiles at him with a warmth that she used to give me.
A warmth that’s a little bit sad, a little bit forced, a little bit fake.
And I used to gobble it all down because it came from her, my mother.
“Hello.” He turns into his completely professional stance. “Can I get you anything, Xander?”
A bottle of vodka would be grand, thank you very much.
“Nothing,” I breathe out.
“A glass of wine for me,” Mum says.
“I’m afraid we have no wine.” He nods and disappears around the corner. I have no doubt that he’ll call Dad and inform him about our unexpected guest.
Before Dad comes home, Mum and I need to talk.
Shoving a hand in my pocket, I turn around and face her. She’s sitting on the sofa, both legs tucked to her side like a refined lady.
Mum was never a refined lady. She was a waitress prior to knowing Dad – and Calvin.
Dad brought her to the upper-middle-class side of the tracks and after that, she cut all contact with her extended family and switched social classes.
Her gaze sweeps over me. “You’ve become a man.”
“No thanks to you,” I say without even thinking about the words. But I guess that’s all I ever wanted to say since that day she abandoned me in the middle of the street and never looked back.
“Xander, listen to me.”
I lean against the counter and fold my arms. “I’m all ears. Let’s hear what brought you back after ghosting for twelve years. Spoiler alert, the address didn’t change.”
She thins her lips. “I see you’ve become fluent in sarcasm.”
“What can I say? Growing up with no mother made me fluent in many things. Like lying, drinking, fighting. You name it.”
“I won’t have you stand there and blame your life choices on me. You have Lewis and his money.”
Is she for real? Is there a way I can reach into my eyes and somehow blind them so I don’t see her face?
For twelve whole years, I’ve wondered what it would be like to see her again. If maybe she’d return and fill the hole Dad was never able to.
Hope is a dangerous thing; it makes you believe in things that might never exist.
I believed in Samantha Knight, and that hope is now dimming to nothing at the first conversation.
She’s not here to save me.
“Why are you here, Samantha?”
