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“If they were hers, it should feel good that she had someone who cared for her like that.”
In frustration, Tess balled her fists on the table and sat up straight again. “I know. Don’t you think I know that? I just… When did it change? Does that mean she had this whole other life before me? That she…”
Patrick didn’t know her past. No one would understand it. Her mother always dissuaded her from telling any one person too much. During her retelling of the day, of the week, the sensitive details were omitted on purpose. It wasn’t Patrick’s fault that she was tired and frustrated. On hearing of her mother’s death, he’d said all the right things, but he didn’t get it. No one could.
“Maybe they are from before you or maybe she had a relationship while you were a kid or something,” he said, obviously trying to appease her. “You weren’t together twenty-four seven and no one remembers much from when they were super young.”
Maybe. Maybe. Everything was maybe. That wasn’t good enough.
Her anchor was gone. Aimless drifting wasn’t her style. Without her mom, she needed stability, something to lean on. She didn’t know how to be alone. What it was to be completely alone.
Her future alone. Just like her mom’s past… alone. Anne never spoke of parents or siblings, or any other family. She’d assumed that there wasn’t any. What had her mom’s life looked like before becoming “mom”?
When had it changed?
They’d always been on the run. Had her mom’s life always been the same?
Losing her mother was a sucker punch, but that was no excuse for believing they’d always have time. Complacency was to blame. Questions were met with “there isn’t time for that now” while her mom packed or panicked. In her naivety, it was easy to think her mother would get around to telling her everything sometime.
In spite of the mantras, the awareness, the vigilance, Tess hadn’t understood the urgency. She hadn’t grasped how precious life was or how quickly it could be snuffed out. Apparently, neither had her mom.
“You need to relax,” Patrick said, reaching over the table to take her hand. “You’re grieving. I remember when Toby passed, it was such a shock. Took me weeks to come to terms with it.”
Unimpressed, her attention ascended. “Toby was your mom’s dog.”
“Yeah,” he said and shrugged. “But we’d had him since I was a kid. Place just wasn’t the same without him.” Patrick smiled. “You need to relax. Just go crazy. Do something fun and insane… We can go to that club across town, the one with the podiums. We’ll dance the night away.”
Her idea of a nightmare. Picking up her drink, Tess downed the rest of her cocktail. “Thanks, but I… I’m just not in the mood.”
“Trust me,” he said, gathering their empty glasses. “We’ll get another one here and then head over there. Letting loose really makes a difference. It helps you forget for a while and that’s exactly what you need.”
He got up to walk over to the bar, leaving her alone. Tess couldn’t think of anything worse than being in a crush of people, screaming over music trying to be heard. Though forgetting for a while sounded incredible, oblivion wouldn’t be easy to reach. She’d have to do something really nuts or get really drunk. Alcohol didn’t usually make her forget anything. Going overboard with booze wasn’t smart. Her mother had drummed in the importance of keeping her wits.
“Someone always wants to hurt you,” Tess whispered, her focus drifting to the street. “Everyone is a threat. Paranoia keeps us alive.”
Her mother’s mantras seemed ironic now. In the end, Anne had been the one to hurt herself. Not on purpose, sure, but still. Paranoia hadn’t kept her alive. Paranoia probably contributed to her death. If her mom’s concentration had been on the road, maybe she wouldn’t have skidded off.
What Tess really needed was to feel something other than the grinding pressure of unknowns piling up. Sex was the only thing ever capable of taking her out of the moment and erasing her worries… temporarily anyway.
Patrick was still at the bar. They’d met a few weeks ago during one of her nightclub shifts. No doubt the guy was cute, but people insinuating themselves into her life was her mother’s biggest red flag. He was the closest thing to a friend she’d had for a long time. They’d enjoyed a few make out sessions with some heavy petting, but she’d never been tempted to bring him to her bed.
Cute wouldn’t untie her knot of frustration and grief. Friendship wasn’t the remedy either. Patrick was not the definition of going crazy. He was synonymous for vanilla. Okay, so she didn’t want anything kinky, but she did want something… wild. Something completely insane. Being safe wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Anne’s warnings were like tribal drums beating in the back of her brain.
“Be in control,” Tess repeated another of her mother’s mantras. “Never be led. Be the leader.”
Anyone could be a threat, which was why no man had warmed her sheets more than once. Patrick was on the precipice and didn’t know it. Sleeping with him would be a terrible idea. After so many dates, he’d think they were beginning something. In truth, if she talked to a guy, she’d never sleep with him. Sex had to be quick and dirty. Had to be once and never followed up. In short, if they did it, they’d be done. She couldn’t bring herself to cut loose the only other living person who knew her name.
Grabbing her shawl from the back of her chair, she kept her attention on Patrick. With his back to her, he had the attention of the bartender. Good, so she could just… Tess swept her clutch from the tabletop and dashed out. The guy didn’t deserve to be ditched, but that didn’t make him what she needed.
Wrapping her shawl around her shoulders to fend off the night, she folded her arms. It wasn’t too cold; the air smelled good. Any free air smelled good. Wait. Free? No. There was no such thing.
Nothing made sense.
After a few blocks, she stopped on a corner and cursed herself. This wasn’t living. It wasn’t life. Worrying about her mother’s past and the secret message in the car was driving her nuts. Go crazy. Twice she’d been told that. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe her mom wasn’t the one with the mental health problem.
If Tess hadn’t had one before, one would be creeping up on her soon.
