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And boy, do I. It’s time to talk to human resources. This is beyond me getting a job. It’s about patients’ lives. I have a responsibility to the patients and employees here to report this.
* * *
I park in front of my cottage. I need to check in on Goldie and pick up more clothes. I’ve been staying with SJ and Harley, and I probably have some explaining to do about where I’ve been. I feel guilty about not seeing her as much lately, and I’ve missed her. I don’t want Goldie to feel left out because SJ is back.
I knock on her door, and she answers, holding it open for me. “Come in, sweetie.” She hugs me, happy to see me.
“I wanted to check in on you. How are you?” I notice a bouquet of yellow roses just like mine on her table.
“Beautiful flowers.” I smile. “Who are they from?”
“A lovely young gentleman.” She smiles widely and wiggles her eyebrows.
“Heisa lovely gentleman,” I agree.
“I’ll bet you didn’t know that after my Rex died, SJ came and mowed my lawn every week,” she says, her eyes watery with tears. “And after he left for the Army, his dad or one of the nice bikers have come ever since to mow for me,” she says with admiration on her face. “They never forgot about me.”
“I didn’t know that, but I’m not surprised.” Sam and SJ have always had the biggest hearts. And as much as some people would like to villainize the Eastern Bones motorcycle club, they really do look after our town and the people here. They do things like this and never ask for anything in return. Sweet on the inside and tough on the outside.
Changing the subject, she says, “I’m assuming you two have been working out your differences?” She feigns innocence.
“Goldie.” I snort. “We’re doing good,” I confirm. “We still have a lot of things to work on and figure out, but we’re in a better place.”
“I knew it would all work out. I’m proud of you both, honey.”
“Thank you.”
“Your mom came by here this week,” she adds with a frown.
“My mom? Why?” I groan, confused.
“She was checking on you.”
“What did you tell her?” Figures she’d poke around instead of just coming to me or calling. She knows I’m always at the hospital and could have come to me.
“That you were busy working.” She shrugs and reaches over to cover my hand.
“Thanks. I need to talk to them about Thad.”
“She already knows, dear. She wasn’t happy. Unfortunately, we didn’t end our visit on a good note. She said some choice things about our SJ, and I told her I won’t have any of that.”
“She’s never going to change.” I’m thirty years old, and she and my dad still try to control me. My dad tried to get me to give him five thousand dollars last week. He’s crazy if he thinks I have that kind of money. And I suspect his money troubles are getting even worse.
She continues, “She asked me why you always come to me and not to her.”
“Oh wow. What did you tell her?” I know it’s always bothered her that I’ve been close with Goldie. My own mother has never had any real interest in me or my life. She prefers alcohol. And while alcohol plays a debilitating role in their lives, they are horrible without it. The alcohol just exacerbates the issue. Goldie has been the one to cheer me on and support me with everything I’ve needed. It’s Goldie who drove me to New York for school and came to visit me during the holidays. She sent me care packages and checked on me several times a week. Months would go by without any contact with my parents, and that was just our normal. If I needed anything, I knew it wouldn’t come from them. No one can say I haven’t tried. I have, but being the daughter of two alcoholics who want to control me has been challenging. Adding their manipulation and verbal abuse on top of it all has been exhausting. When Ramie asked me the other day if I would call the police if what had happened to me had happened to her instead, it got me thinking. If my friend was in my situation and had my parents, what would I say to her? What would I do? And then I ask myself why I don’t do that for myself. Why do I settle for this?
“I explained to her that I want nothing from you but your love. And that I’m proud of you no matter what. I’m not sure if she has the capacity to understand that. She must care in some way, but I just don’t think she knows how,” she says sadly, patting my arm.
School and work have always been my places of escape. Now that I’m back in Freedom Valley and life has slowed down somewhat, I’m having to face everything. It’s time to make some hard decisions about my parents and what role I want them to play in my life moving forward. At this point, I’m upset whenever I’m around them, and they don’t hear or see me nor do they care about what I want. My dad regularly asks me for money, and I don’t have it. My student loans are sucking me dry. And without a full-time contract at the hospital, I have to be very careful, anyway. I can’t continue like this with them. I tried to have a relationship with them when I came back, but it was never going to happen. I know that now. Since being back, I’ve realized that the family you create is more important than the family you come from.
“It’s too late,” I say. “She’s never been there for me. Why would she care all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know, honey. But I’m here for you no matter what,” she adds.
I smile at her gratefully. “I’m not being treated like that anymore,” I say with a determined sigh. “It’s been sad but freeing to accept that my mother will never be capable of being the mother that I need her to be.”
“It’ll be alright, honey,” she says with her lips together, nodding.
