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“Try explaining it then.” My voice is cold and has an edge to it that feels like steel. Then again, my heart is frosted in ice.
“A long time ago, I met a man. I loved him. He gave me a son who was the light of my life.”
Color me shocked. Didn’t expect to hear a story about Jeremy. Josh’s words cross my mind.Ask her about Liam.And yet, she’s talking about Jeremy. I don’t need for her to tell me that this was Jeremy. He still is the light of her life. Where does my father fit in this story? All these years, I thought Jeremy was his. Did he think so too? I remain silent while she seems to be putting her words together.
“He left me before I even knew I was pregnant. Then I met your father. Then came you.”
I nod. I’m tracking so far, though I’m still confused about Josh’s statement regarding Liam.
“Then the man reappears.” She fiddles with the publication, dogearing it with her fidgeting. “I left your father.”
My dad’s words about being second best come back to me. I struggle to remember exactly what he said that day. It’s such a haze.
“I left you with him. You were his.”
So she took Jeremy and went back to the man. Then what? “What happened?”
“He left. Again. And I was pregnant with Liam.”
So Liam was his.
“I went back to your father.”
I shook my head. “I have no idea why he took you back.”
Her face crumples before she regains her composure. “He loves me. He loves his children.”
“They aren’t even his.” I practically spit the words out. “Why do you hate Liam so much?”
She shrugs. “I’m human. I was angry at…him.”
I get it.Him.That’s the guy. Seems he’s going to remain nameless.
“So Jeremy and Liam are both his sons, and yet… Why the hell do you treat Liam so poorly, but not Jeremy? He’s his son too.”
“I’m not standing for an interrogation,” she informs me.
“You brought it up. You hate Liam because that man left you, and you hate the idea of Josh being with me because, what? You think he’s going to leave me too?”
“I don’t hate Liam,” she says, ignoring the rest of my questions.
“Sure you do. You just don’t realize it shows.”
My mother grows quiet and pensive. We sit there in silence for a few moments or maybe many moments. My mind’s wandering through all the things I want to say, to understand, but none of it is cohesive.
“You took my child away from me. You ruined my life because you didn’t want it to turn out like yours?”
“Only in the context of not letting you make a decision to screw up your life the way I did. With the wrong man.”
“What makes him the wrong man, Mom? Because you don’t like him? His tax bracket? His skin being a few shades darker? What?”
“He’s trash.” Her tone is so resolute. So convinced.
I can see there’s no way to persuade her that she’s wrong about Josh. About me. About life in general.
“You told me my baby died. It didn’t. You put her up for adoption.”
“I thought it was best for you. For the baby. For—”
