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4
A door slammed and I sat up, fully awake, heart pounding. A man yelled, then my mom yelled and something crashed against a wall. I scrambled out of bed and unlocked my door. Just as I stumbled into the living room, the front door to our trailer slammed shut.
My mom was standing in front of her open bedroom door in a ratty bathrobe. Her red hair was a mess and she had lipstick smeared on her mouth. The streaks of her mascara running down her face gave away the tears even if she wasn’t crying now.
“You okay?” I asked.
My mom turned away from the door and looked at me. Her eyes widened as if noticing me for the first time. We often went weeks without speaking about anything other than her cigarette stash. It was like we were roommates rather than mother and daughter. It suited me fine. She’d given up on me and herself sometime around fifth grade. I’d tried to pull her out of the funk for a while, but eventually I gave up and got a job and bought my own groceries. Shortly after the power went out for the first time, she started having male visitors over and the power went back on. I knew enough not to ask questions. She’d shut me out and she wasn’t the same mom I had before.
“Mom? Did he hurt you?”
“No, it’s fine, everything is fine. It’s a full moon tonight. You know how they get,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“How’s work?” She tied her robe closed and walked into the tiny kitchen.
“Fine.” I wasn’t sure what she was playing at. We never talked about anything anymore.
“Coffee?” She picked up a bag of grounds and held it up.
I nodded then stood there in silence watching her go through the motions of adding the filter, scooping grounds, and filling the pot with water. I knew she made herself coffee every day, but I was usually at school when she did. When I got home, I’d drink the leftovers over ice and dump the grounds.
“You’re leaving tonight, aren’t you?” she asked without looking up.
The coffee pot gurgled and sputtered as it percolated. I tore my eyes away from the appliance to look at my mom. She was a mess and it hurt a little to see her like this. I’d gotten good at blocking it out and reminding myself about how badly she treated me the last few years. But there was something about knowing it was time to say goodbye that made you view things differently. I felt sorry for her. She’d been handed this life without choice. She wasn’t the one who fucked up, but I couldn’t stay here. Not even for her. There was nothing I could do.
“I’ll leave as soon as the magic lets me out,” I said.
“Good,” she said.
“Will you be okay?” It was a question I’d wondered about a few times but always stopped myself from asking. She wouldn’t be okay and we both knew it. She’d have to start taking better care of herself and I wasn’t sure she could.
“Don’t worry about me,” she said.
“I’m not going to come back after I go.” I wasn’t sure why I told her that, but it seemed like she should know.
“I hope you never do.” She forced a smile then turned to the cupboard and pulled down two coffee mugs. She set the mugs on the counter and then pulled the coffee pot off and filled each before handing me one of the cups.
Just like her, I drank my coffee black. Probably because milk and sugar were luxuries that weren’t really necessary when you had a limited budget. It took a while for me to adjust to the bitter taste when I was younger, but now it was a staple in my life. One of the things we had in common.
“You were never meant to be in this place,” she said. “You’re too good for all of these wolves. I’m sorry I got you stuck here.”
My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
She let out a long breath. “Your father wasn’t from around here. I left, I had a life. A good one. But after I got pregnant, I was scared and I came back. When I arrived, my dad was a mess so I stayed to help. I never planned to stay but you came early, and the magic took hold of you. If I left, you’d have been stuck here.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “I thought you’d always been here.”
“It doesn’t matter. The fact that I returned erased any good I had from my time away.”
“You’ve never spoken about my father before,” I said.
“He’s probably long gone. He didn’t even know I was pregnant with you.”
“Was he a shifter?” I asked.
She nodded. “He never knew our secret. I was scared he’d find out you couldn’t shift and he’d disown you.”
