85 Tears

The second my phone went off, the bubble of contentment that Jackson and I were experiencing... popped. 

Heaviness settled and I sighed, "Let's get this over with, shall we?" I force a tight smile and stand to put my drawing pad away. Jackson follows me upstairs and we both straighten our clothes and appearances before I gather the folders with the paperwork I need her to sign, making sure everything was in order and I had two pens to use.

Jackson picked up the notepad that had been filled with questions to ask my mother. This was Brian's request before my mother had reappeared. I also have a list for my father, but I can't ask a dead man questions. Brian suggested I bring those with me so that I could ask any if I felt like it.

I feel like I would rather shove the notepad where the sun doesn't shine instead, it would probably be more satisfying too.

I take the notepad from him and we head downstairs to take the Lincoln to Brian's offices. We would be over an hour early, but Brian wanted me to be there a little early. He wants to make sure that I will be in a stable state of mind for this and so he can remind me that if it truly does become too much I can end it or take a break. 

Jackson had wanted Dave to drive us but I had insisted we drive ourselves with the possibilities of my future emotional state. My nerves were getting to me once we arrived at Brian's office. My stomach was turning into knots. I felt overly hot but clammy at the same time. I kept having to swallow as saliva pooled in my mouth. I keep fidgeting with my clothes, as we enter the building and Brian greets us as he opens the door to the room we will be using.

Lance would be present too, but he would be staying out of the room. He would be there with paperwork that had to be signed with a witness present and had someone from the county clerks office coming to be that witness. He was expected to show up about an hour after my mother is to arrive. If I can hold out just an hour...

I take a seat on the sofa in the room, letting Jackson sit next to me. There is a coffee table between this one and two comfortable chairs across from it, with another one at the head. Water bottles sit on the table with tissues and a small plate of cookies as well. I internally roll my eyes at the cookies. Who wants to eat when they are going through emotional turmoil? 

Brian and I have been over this a few times, but he still goes over the procedure we will follow once she arrives. He will sit her down opposite me, ensure that we are both ready to begin and merely moderate if need be. 

It's not long before we hear the door open to his offices and the moment I've been avoiding like the damn plague is here. 

"Mrs. Xenos, afternoon, please come in and have a seat right over here." Brian motions to the couch opposite me and holds his hand out to her. "I'm Dr. Brian Huller and I will be here to help moderate things if they become too intense. Anything that is said will be confidential on my part." 

She shook his hand and nodded before taking a seat, "Thank you for allowing us to use your offices." 

She was wearing clean, nice clothes, although a little worn out from the colors being faded. Her light auburn hair that was replaced with more gray then auburn was clean and hanging limply around her face. She had applied some makeup, but it didn't make her look any younger. Her emotions were reserved and uncertain, practically written all over her face. Her eyes did have a light hopeful sparkle in them. 

My guard went up even higher seeing that hope though. If she thought talking would make the past disappear she was in for a rude awakening.

"Melita..." She gave me a hesitant smile.

I sucked on the inside of my lips, forcefully to hide the frown that tried to form. "Mother." I finally grit out. 

The dead silence that goes on for a few seconds is tangible in the air. Brian clears his throat and gets comfortable in his seat.

"There's some water if you'd like Mrs. Xenos. I believe that you wanted to talk to your daughter about some things?" Brian keeps an easy going demeanor about him, like this was two old friends sitting down to talk instead of a mother who abandoned her daughter years ago.

She shifts in her seat and nods, "Yes. There is." She looks from Brian to me and gives me a pained watery smile. "You look so beautiful. I'm so proud you've done well for yourself, Melita." She blinks, forcing her tears to escape.

'....I'm so proud...' those words hit me like a blow to the gut, causing instant pain. I clench my hands together, letting my nails dig into my skin just enough to keep me grounded and not flinch. I don't respond verbally, I just nod, confirming I heard her.

She sniffles and grabs a tissue, "You're angry with me. I understand and you have every right to be."

I fold my arms over my chest and let out an audible breath, letting her have her personal pity party. She must think I've forgotten how she used to do similar acts when I was still young. Crying, making herself look like she was kind and understanding, that she was the bigger victim between the two of us. We both were victims of abuse, but I suffered at the hands of her too. I was neglected and abused verbally the majority of the time from her, but I have a scar or two to refresh her memory if she keeps this up.

"I was a horrible mother, I know that. I should never had left you behind with your father. I had to leave when I could though. I couldn't take it anymore and you were in school." She lets out some more tears, gripping the tissue to her chest like it was the only thing keeping her together at the moment.

I was becoming more agitated by her pathetic display and was firmly keeping my lips together before I flew off the handle and gave her 'a real reason to cry', as she would have said. 

I grit my teeth and swallow hard a few times before asking, "Why?"

She cried some more before spilling out, "IF I had tried to take you, your father would have had the law chasing us. I was not leaving through a battered woman's shelter that could protect us. They didn't even have those then. I would have been tossed in jail for kidnapping and you would have still ended up with your father. I had to make sure where we were would have been safe until I could find a way to keep us from your father." 

Her sniffles continued as larger tears fell, "I did try anyways. I first went to the school and they said you were not there that you were sick. I went to the house and you were not there. I didn't know where you were."

 "I was in the hospital." I grit out, "Suffering from an infection from the beating I got when you left!" 

"Melita, here. Have some water and take a moment." Brian offers me a bottle of water and a tissue, pressing me back to the couch gently.

I didn't even realize I was standing, leaning over the table until that moment. I took the water and tried to shrug off the tissue until hot moisture hit my hand. When did I start crying?

I take the tissue from Brian and nod my head in thanks, not sure if I should say anything at the moment. I don't want to look at her, but I do anyways.

She's got a tissue scrunched up under her nose as she silently cries into it. I wipe my face of the tears with the tissue roughly.

She sobs harder, "I didn't know... I didn't want to..."

"But you did." I snap, "You left me with him to run off with your druggie boyfriend, free of the useless mouth to feed that you so loved to remind me that I was! You let me get beat for the money YOU were stealing from him! I was just your fucking scapegoat! The punching bag! The defenseless CHILD, YOUR CHILD, THAT YOU TOOK OUT ALL YOUR PROBLEMS OUT ON! I NEVER ASKED TO BE BORN! I DIDN'T DESERVE TO BE TREATED LIKE SHIT! LIKE IT WAS ALL MY FAULT!"

Jackson has a hold of my arm, keeping me on the couch next to him. Brian is also leaning forward ready to step in if need be. My battered heart doesn't have the strength to fight against these two. However, the vindictive, disappointed side of me is seething, ready to release the deluge of pain on her.

"YOU COME IN HERE WITH YOUR FUCKING TEARS AND EXCUSES THAT I DON'T WANT TO HEAR! NOTHING WILL FIX OR CHANGE THE PAST!" 

"I know that..." She tries to say, her jaw becoming firm as she tries to defend herself.

"No." I hold my hand up, shutting her off, "I'm speaking now." I say firmly. "I don't want to hear your excuses, your reasonings. I read your background report. Your arrests and the times you were not in jail, the jobs you had. It all paints a pretty clear picture of you wanting to run around with your boyfriend, doing drugs, and whatever else you wanted to do. I was the last thing you were thinking of when you had free time. You never tried to contact me, send me a letter, nothing. Only now that he's gone and you're out of jail you show up. You've only wanted to get in contact with me since my picture was in the paper. You realized I was doing good for myself and you are merely trying to see if you can manipulate me. I'm not fucking stupid."

She scoffs, "I'm not trying to do anything of the sort."

"Bullshit!" I shout, standing up.

She stands up in response and Brian stands with his hands stretched out between us.

"I think we should take a break." Brian nods to my mother who grunts and walks outside, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as she heads outside.