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The moment our eyes meet, my knees go weak. Suddenly, I’m taken back to when I was sixteen, sneaking through the back door at 10:30 p.m, only to have my mother waiting for me on the other side.
Before I could brace myself for her classic tough love, she briefly engages with Clara. Then, she marches toward me.
And I’m already flinching.
Putting myself in a defensive stance, my mom extends her arms, about to lunge at me. But I’m wrong. Because she pulls me in a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry, honey.” She rubs her hand through my hair.
I open my eyes in confusion.
I turn to Clara, who’s still standing in the doorway. Next to her is my aunt, Olive Carmody—everyone’s favorite, cool aunt. And by everyone, I meaneveryone.
Her shoulder-length hair, a similar dirty blonde shade as ours, curls at the bottom effortlessly. With her green eyes, small nose, and thin lips, no one could guess she is now forty-eight years old.
She’d pass as my older sister any day.
My attention turns back to my mother as she pulls me away gently and touches my face. “How have you been, huh? You had me worried sick about you. Have you been eating well? Sleeping well? Exercising?”
“Mom,” I chuckle, trying to hide my relief. “I’m okay. Calm down.”
She hugs me again. Tighter, this time. “You have no idea how much I wanted to come see you. I wish I was there for you.”
My heart jumps up my throat.
She’s talking about the time I found out Larson was cheating on me.
Swallowing it all back down, I reply, “I’m pulling through, Mom. Don’t worry so much about me…”
But my lie quickly slips away.
My voice trails off and quivers. Then, I’m crying. Wailing like a child.
Mom quickly pulls me into a comforting embrace, and it only makes me cry more. No longer caring if I look like the hot mess I actually am.
It’s like all the pain I’ve felt for the past week hits me like a tsunami, drowning me and tossing me around without direction.
I cry until my ribs hurt from all the heaving. And Mom just lets me.
She lets me wet her knitted cardigan with my tears.
After I calm down, Clara hands me some napkins to wipe my tears and clear my nose.
Mom just looks at me with sadness. Then, Aunt Olive steps forward and says to my mom, “At least let me give my niece a hug.”
So, Mom steps aside.
I hug Aunt Olive back. This time, not wanting to soil her leather jacket with my tears. I can smell her expensive perfume; the one she bought with her alimony.Versace, maybe?
She then studies my face. My potentially dry face and deep eyebags. “How have you been, Estelle?”
I sniff. Nodding. “I think I’m going to be okay.”
Shortly after my dramatic ass almost ruined our mini-reunion, two large pizza boxes arrive at our doorstep.
The four of us share slices of greasy pizza, as well as some small talk.
After dinner, Clara excuses herself to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house; I know she did that to give us more space. So, Mom sleeps in my room, Aunt Olive sleeps in Clara’s room, and I get to crash on the couch.
