Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Hey sweetheart, did you get the Christmas presents in the mail?”
“Yes, Mom, thank you. The only thing that would’ve made it better was spending the day with you.” There was nothing like spending Christmas with your family… though I wouldn’t truly know since I hadn’t spent a holiday with my mother since she left. It was just Dad and I and even then, sometimes it was just me.
“I know, me too.” Her words didn’t match her tone of voice.
“If it’s okay with you, I was thinking about coming down for a few days next week since I’m still on break. We can watch Elf and make Christmas cookies.” The mere thought of spending time with her left me feeling whole again. Even if I was pissed off at my mother for not visiting me, or making an effort, it didn’t mean I didn’t want to spend time with her, if given the chance.
“Yeah...maybe.” She paused and I couldn’t miss the nervous tone that overtook her voice. It sounded like she was going to say something she thought I might not like.
“You know, honey, I’ve been meaning to tell you something…” There was another pause, and I gripped the phone tighter in my hand. When I didn’t say anything, she continued a long sigh filling the speaker.
“I’ve been seeing someone…it’s… it’s um… Henry.”
My hold on the phone slackened and I nearly dropped it.
Holy shit. She didn’t actually mean Henry…
Shaking my head, I somehow manage to find my voice.
“Henry Preston? Vance’s dad?”
“Yes, we met again a few months ago. He and Tonya got divorced as well. I swear to you we were only looking for friendship but, sometimes the heart has other plans. Anyway, we started going out and I figured you should know. I don’t want to keep anything from you.”
She figured I should know? Ha, that’s funny. She could miss Christmas with me and barely pick up the phone to call me but felt like I should know about her love life.
Someone should get her an award.
Mom of the year here.
There's a permanent sour taste that coats my mouth every time I think back to that phone call. No, I take that back, it’s actually all of it. All of this leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
Everything about my life is fucked up. Her moving away. My dad making me stay with him, even after he started drinking. My mom never coming back for me, even when she knew I needed her. Her absence only drove the knife of betrayal deeper into my chest.
Which leads me to this moment. An eighteen-year-old high school graduate without a single dime to her name because her dad drank and gambled her college fund away. I was the poster child for fucked up, going nowhere real fast.
My mom insisted on me coming to live with her but not until after she found out about my father’s wrongdoings. Anger bled at the edge of my tongue. I wanted to ask her where she was a couple years back, but what was the point.
Nothing she did now could change the past. The only good thing that came from moving in with her was her promise that she and Henry would pay for my college and give me a place to live while attending the local university. After the shit show my mother had left me in, I was seriously considering saying no.
I prided myself on being a smart girl and I wasn’t about to fall into that trap again. She had let me down more than once in my life… I had no reason to trust her...but what else was I going to do with my time?
With my dad in some high-end rehab facility across the country and the house being foreclosed on. It was only a matter of time before I could add being homeless and jobless, to my long resume of fuck ups. I knew what the outcome would be if I didn’t take my mother’s offer. And as stubborn as I wanted to be, I couldn’t give up my dream of going to college.
So I took the offer. It was a cute little deal tied up with a red ribbon, like those stupid presents she had sent me last year. I couldn’t pass it up, not even if I was still angry at her for being absent for nearly all of my teenage years.
Looking up at the elaborate mansion Henry bought my mother, I try not to cringe. Stone masonry, a huge three car garage, in a secluded area. The icing on the cake the Welcome to our home sign blowing back and forth in the wind.
It’s like a red flag calling out to my rage, and I’m the bull, ready to dig my horns into it.
There was a point in time when the Preston’s had no money, not even two quarters to rub together. Then, according to my mom, Henry struck it big, partnering up with some big wig.