She started calling Saturday morning.
I didn’t recognize the number, but the foreboding feeling in my gut told me it was her.
And it was a little after four in the morning. 4:03.
It kept ringing.
I kept staring at it, curled up in bed, unable to look away and a second later, my phone lit up again.
I should answer. I started the same thoughts I always did. It might not be her.
It might be Dad.
Maybe Dad was in an accident?
Maybe she was in an accident?
Maybe it was her and she really did need my help?
Was she bleeding right now? Had she cut herself?
Again?
Was she in the hospital again?
If she was in prison, if she was in Vegas and ran out of money, if a guy just fucked her and she didn’t know his name… Those I didn’t care about. But there was one question, one that I hadn’t asked anyone because no one could give me the answer–that’s the one I answered the call for.
“Mom,” I said it quietly, my voice hoarse. “What you were in the hospital for, did you really try to do it?”
She gasped on the other end, and then a hoarse whisper, “Baby. Oh, baby.” Her voice started trembling. She began to cry. “Oh, my beautiful baby girl. You answered. I heard you came to the hospital. I’m so happy you did. I’m so sorry your father kept you away. He shouldn’t have done that, kept my daughter away from her mama. A girl needs to see her mama. Oh, Mara honey. Beautiful Mara. How are you?”
She wasn’t answering.
She went from sad to rushed to angry to frenzied to gushing and she ended with a question that I knew she didn’t care about. Because of that, I didn’t answer and without waiting for an answer, she rushed forward, “Can you believe this shit your father is trying to pull? Baby. Baby, I need your help. You owe me that. I pushed you out of my pussy, didn’t throw you in the trash, not like what your father told me to do.” A hard laugh from her. “I bet he’s never told you that, but it’s true and you know what would’ve happened if I’d done that? I would’ve had a life. I wouldn’t have gained those six pounds. Six up, six down. My tits are sagging. I was talking to a guy inside. He’s in for drugs, but he’s a surgeon. He said he could fix my tits and he could tighten my pussy. I think I’m going to do it. Listen, where are you? I wanted to come and take you out for dinner. My friend, Marshall, he’s the surgeon, he’s getting out in ten days, and he said he’d take me out for a weekend. You want to come with us? I bet he could do something for you too. Fix those cheek lines. Freshen your face up. He could give you some ass.” Now she was laughing. “A little fat back there–”
She wasn’t going to answer.
“Mom.”
She was still going. She hadn’t heard me.
Talking about all the features the surgeon could help me with, because she cared, because she was looking out for me, because a daughter represented her, but I couldn’t screw him. She chuckled, her voice dropping low, “I mean, if you wanted to, you could. Maybe you should? Get a sugar daddy. But no threesome business. I mean–”
“Mom–”
She ignored me. “You think he might pay for a threesome? Some mother-daughter action–”
I couldn’t. Not anymore.
I hung up, and like I did with all the new numbers she called me from, I blocked this new one.
Her old number was already blocked.
I went through all of my media and deleted every single one but goddamn. If she searched my name, it’d still pop up.
Wouldn’t it?
I couldn’t risk it.
Once I was done, I did a google search for my name and went through every hit that gave any identifying information about me. I searched, found where to have it taken down.
And right after I was done, two hours later, my stomach revolted.
I sprinted from the bed, getting to the toilet just in time to empty whatever had been inside.
I stopped puking after six times; the last four were only bile.
It was later, when I was curled up by the toilet with a blanket over me that I started going over the call with a clearer head and this was the first time I thought the doctors got it right, or one of them did. A new diagnosis was probably correct. She’d escalated.
She was harder.
I stayed in on Saturday. Sometimes I sought people out or parties, but it was different on Saturday. I couldn’t explain it. I just wanted silence. My own space.
Peace.
I turned my phone off all day, and I studied for that quiz.
Went out for groceries later in the morning, as soon as my stomach felt steadier.
That night, I studied more and ended the night with a movie. I was in bed when I glanced over, considered turning my phone on.
I left it and rolled over.
I turned it on for Sunday. Notification after notification began rolling through.
Miles wanted to go to the library.
Gavin wanted me to head over for another party.
A few girls from class, asking if the quiz was truth or rumor?
Zeke thanked me for calling Blaise to get him out of ‘the joint.’
Then a few last ones that made me pause.
From Tasmin, who lived across from me in the dorms.
Taz: Party at the hockey house. Want to come with us?
“Us” would be at least her and her boyfriend, Race.
Tasmin and I weren’t texters. We didn’t invite each other places. I frowned. Why would she start now?
Then there were a couple texts from my dad.
Dad: I was told that she called you. Are you okay?
Dad: Want to talk about it?
I skipped over his and pulled up the last one. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to my dad, but he was too close to her. I always felt like she took entire chunks of skin off my body, leaving me exposed. I needed time away from her, and that meant him too right now.
The last text was from Cruz.
Cruz: Getting back tonight. Want me to ‘get back’ tonight? 😉
That one made me smile.
Me: Your joke didn’t land. Sorry to break it to you.
Cruz: Too early for texting. Come crawl in bed with me. Going back to sleep unless you wake me up.
I wanted to go, so bad, and that terrified me because it wasn’t good to want to be around someone as much as I did right now.
But, it was hard to fight against that offer. I wanted it, really, really badly.
This.
This was why we shouldn’t have done the texting because it made me like him a little bit more. No. Not even that. It made me feel safe with him. A little bit safer.
That was dangerous to someone like me.
Never feel safe. When you did, that’s when the world would get pulled out from under you.
That’s when you would fall.
I could never get comfortable. I could never feel safe.
I surrounded myself with people I didn’t fully like… Or I kept them at bay, the ones that were already in.
I messed up, but fuck it, because if he texted right now, I’d respond. If he called, I’d answer.
I was staring at my phone, knowing what I wanted to do and what I probably would do, but this was a last-ditch effort to distract me from doing it.
I hit call.
She answered after the third ring, and her voice was drowsy which made sense. It was a little after nine and that was like five in the morning for college people.
“Mara?”
I called Tasmin.
“Why did you text me that last night?”
“What?” She yawned. “What time is it?”
“Early enough for church if you’re the God-fearing type.”
She laughed before catching herself. “I’m so confused. This is Mara Daniels calling me?”
“Why’d you text me that last night? Inviting me to the hockey house?”
“Oh.” She yawned again.
I heard a male voice in the background, saying something.
She replied, sounding from a distance, “No, baby. Go back to sleep.”
Baby.
That was a nice ‘connecting’ term. I was jealous, hearing it.
“Why did I invite you to the hockey house? They had a party to celebrate their win yesterday. I actually thought you’d be there. Were you?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“That was it? No other reason?”
“Um, no? I mean, no. Wait. Are you talking about Blaise–”
“I know you’re aware about my mom.”
She got quiet, real quiet, after I said that.
She did. She knew or she would’ve been like, ‘Your mom? What about your mom?”
A few seconds later, she said, “Your mom? What about your mom?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You took too long for your response. I know you know.”
“I got a call about it, but I didn’t know if I should believe it. I actually didn’t until just now.” She asked, quiet, “Are you oka–”
“Do not ever invite me to another party.”
She drew in a sharp breath.
My eyes were stinging but I added, “Do not text me. Do not say hi to me. You see me on campus, and you don’t. You don’t see me. Got that? Do not pity me.”
She didn’t respond.
“Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, but Mara–”
I hung up, wishing I didn’t give a shit about what I did. That was a lie. Everything was a lie. Tasmin was being nice and not pitying me, but that same part of me knew she did pity me. A little bit, whether she’d ever admit it or not. I remembered her mom. Paid attention even though she didn’t go to the same school as me, but I still watched. I observed.
Tasmin had the family I never had, would never have.
Fuck, but also fuck.
I could go see Cruz.
I didn’t understand it. I didn’t want to understand it, but I just knew I could go now.
I couldn’t have gone before.
