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A soft smile lifts her lips. "We met at one of the real estate conventions."
I scowl. "So, while I'm alone at home and you're off working, are you even off working? Or are you off sleeping with Samuel Myers?"
She rolls her eyes. "No, I do actually work, you know."
I think back on all the times she's been gone lately, and lately she's been gone more frequently. She's in real estate marketing, so she travels and goes to different conventions and meetings all the time, but most recently… it's like she's always gone. "Those times when you say you have to travel for work, are you even traveling for work? Or are you meeting with him?"
She's silent for a moment, crossing her arms over her chest. Defensive. Uncomfortable. It's written in the way she sits and in her eyes. "I've visited with him on an occasion or two."
"On an occasion or two," I mock, standing up. I run my fingers through my hair, walking back and forth along the deck. I hit a weak board or two, causing an obnoxious groan to fill the silence. My fingers go up, and I pull on my septum ring. My hands and fingers can't stop moving, irritation licking at my ankles and heating my entire body.
How could she do this?
"I'm not going," I say with finality. Sweat sticks the baby hairs to my temples. My fingers lift and I peel them off, even though they just slap back against my face. It's not even warm outside, the cool Fargo fall air makes it chilly this far north. But I'm engulfed in fire on the inside.
"Yes, you are." She stands up, blocking my path and stopping my pacing. "We're leaving in two weeks. The house goes on the market tomorrow. I expect you to keep your room clean, and I don't want any more complaints about it. It's a done deal."
I shake my head. "I'm not leaving. Emancipate me or something."
She rolls her eyes. "You're not getting emancipated. That's enough of this. I've already contacted your school and started the transfer."
My eyes widen, literal rage burning up every muscle and nerve ending. I look down at my fingers, expecting to see smoke coming off them.
I don't. Just horrible tremors racking my body.
With a deep breath, I walk to my backpack. Lifting it into my arms, I unzip the big pocket.
"What are you doing?" she asks, a lilt of hesitation in her voice.
My hands dig into the depths of my black bag, until my fingers curl around the smooth square. I pull out my Marlboros, slipping my lighter and a fresh cigarette from the pack. She scowls at me, hating that I smoke, but she can't fight me on it because she knows I won't stop. She pretends I don't see her slip a secret cigarette on the occasion as well.
I light it up and tuck the lighter into my bra. Taking a deep inhale, I slip the strap of my backpack over my shoulder and exhale, blowing the smoke into her face.
Her eyes only narrow further.
“You shouldn’t smoke, Vera. You know the risk you’re taking. Why are you doing this to yourself?”
“Why are you doing this to me?” I snap back. She says nothing, staring at me with disgust and fear and regret. "I'm going to pack, Mother." I open up the front door, walking straight inside with my lit cigarette.
I hear the creaky boards only moments before her fingers wrap around my wrist, tight and steady. "What the hell are you doing? You aren't smoking in the house!"
I rip my wrist from her hold, glaring at her as I take another drag. "Try and fucking stop me." Her arm grabs onto my backpack this time, ripping me backward and straight out of the front door. Her other hand plucks the cigarette from between my lips, and she tosses it onto the front yard. I watch as the cherry gets buried within the blades of grass, the barely noticeable glow disappearing in the distance.
My nostrils flare as I take a deep breath, then I turn around, pressing my hands against her shoulders and shoving her.Hard.She stumbles, the heel of her shoe getting stuck between the floorboards. It falls off, making her one-heeled foot falter even further. Her hands go to the railing, and she looks over her shoulder at me. Anger and surprise in her gaze. She walks over to me, hobbling up and down with one heel on until she stands right in front of me.
Crack.
My face whips to the side, my mouth falling open due to shock. Tears instantly fill my eyes. Hurt and pain shoots straight to my chest. My hand goes up, pressing against my warm cheek. The stubborn tears fall over the rim this time, wetting my cheeks. It does nothing to cool the burn. A teardrop hits my hand, seeping beneath my palm and suctioning against my skin.
My mom points her finger in my face. "This attitude you've had these last couple years is over. I'm through with it. You'll pack your bags. You'll quit the smoking. You’ll quit acting out. Wherever the real Vera has gone, make sure she comes back for the move."
My palm drops, smearing tears and makeup against my cheek as I watch her. She turns around, dismissing me as she bends down to pick up her heel to slip it back on her foot.
"You would know where the real Vera has gone if you would have stopped working for a second and quit fucking Samuel Myers long enough to pay attention to your only daughter."
Her entire body freezes, but I don't wait for a response. I'm already stomping up to my room and slamming the door behind me.
I'm done with her. I'll move because I have no other choice, but I'm done with her.
