Erin McCarthy - Believe

It was also too late to give back the painting I’d lifted, the one of the lighthouse, its spotlight cutting across a choppy sea. Or the perfume that she always wore that I didn’t even like. I had them stashed in Jayden and Easton’s room because they would ask the least questions. Though I did have a sneaking suspicion Jayden had used the perfume himself because he was smelling a little floral.

“Glad to hear it,” I said evenly. “She must be feeling better. How is Kylie?”

Tyler shook his head. “Kylie is a hot mess. Nathan is blowing up her phone with apologies.”

I snorted.

“He knows he fucked up and he’s hurting,” Tyler said. “You know he’s going to come after you to take out some of that anger.”

I shrugged. “I can out-anger him any day of the week.”

“I know. That’s what scares me.”

The front door opened, and I glanced over to see my mother walk in the door. Shit. Now? This was when she chose to finally make an appearance? Worst timing ever.

“Hey, Phoenix, I need to talk to you,” she said.

Of course she did. I was definitely not in the mood for a little mother-son chat. “Hey, Mom, so nice to see you for the first time in six months. I’m good, thanks for asking.”

She frowned. “Don’t be a smart-ass.”

Notorious for wearing clothes that were two sizes too small and twenty years too young for her, she was wearing denim acid-washed shorts and a tank that made it very obvious she did not have a bra on. Jesus Christ. I wanted to sigh. In fact, I think I actually did.

“Hi, Aunt Jackie,” Easton said from where he was rolling around on the floor for no apparent reason.

“Hey, brat,” she said, tickling his ribs with her toes.

Yep, she was barefoot.

“How did you know I’d be here?” I asked, not moving from the couch.

“Where else would you be? You ain’t got a pot to pee in, and I know you don’t want to live with that twat girlfriend of yours.”

That made me sit up straighter. “Do not call Robin a twat,” I said. “Seriously, Mom, don’t go there with me.”

“Robin?” She looked surprised. “Who the hell is Robin? I was talking about that slut Angel.”

“Oh.” I relaxed back. “We broke up while I was inside. But don’t say that about her either. It’s not nice.”

“It’s not nice,” she mimicked, making a face. “God, you’re such a pussy.”

That did it. I just said, very, very calmly, “Get out. Get out of this house. Right. Now.”

But she scoffed. “You can’t throw me out of Dawn’s house.”

“I can,” Tyler said. “Now show a little respect or you can leave. You haven’t seen Phoenix even once since he got out and you walk in here calling him names? It’s bullshit, Jackie.”

Wow. Cousin was sticking up for me. I was surprised to realize how much I needed that, someone to be on my side.

“God, why is everyone being so sensitive?” she complained, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter.

“You can’t smoke in the house,” Tyler told her.

“What?” For a second I thought she was going to argue, but she just gave a huff of exasperation and stormed to the kitchen, presumably to go out the back door.

I jumped up to follow, well aware that Jessica and Rory were in the kitchen and did not deserve to have to deal with her. She had stopped short in the doorway. “Who the hell are you?” she asked them, even though I knew they had both been at my aunt’s funeral. She clearly didn’t remember meeting them.

“Mom, this is Jessica and Rory, Riley’s and Tyler’s girlfriends. This is my mom, Jackie.” I was more than a little mortified having to do introductions because I knew whatever my mother said, it would not be nice or classy.

And she didn’t disappoint as they murmured greetings, both pasting on a smile. “Damn. My nephews have expensive taste.” She glanced at me. “How about you? Where is your girlfriend, this Robin you were so defensive about? She got money?”

I could see the predatory gleam in her eyes. “No. She’s at her parents.” I held the back door open. “Come outside so you can have a cigarette. I’ll sit with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Lucky me.”

But I didn’t say anything. I just held the door open for her until she passed through. I saw the pity on Rory’s and Jessica’s faces and I felt the familiar sense of shame that I always did when people felt sorry for me.

The sun was high, hitting me right in the eyes as I sat on the top of the picnic table and my mom sat next to me. When her hand shook as she tried to light her cigarette, I took the lighter and held it for her.

She blew out some smoke with a sigh. “Thanks.” Lifting her hands to gather her heavy and bleached hair up into a ponytail, I caught sight of the scars on her stomach.

I took the edge of her shirt and lifted it further to see for myself what that asshole had done to her. The lines were white slashes on her flesh, as he had tried to write “Iggy” but was mostly unsuccessful. I made a sound in the back of my throat. “Did they heal okay?”

“What?” She glanced down. “Oh, yeah, it was fine. Looks like shit but whatever. My stripper days are over anyway.”

I actually laughed. “Well, there you go, Mom, always looking on the bright side.”

She grinned, and I saw she had lost a tooth slightly to the right of her front teeth. “I missed you, Phoenix,” she said. “I know you don’t believe me, but I did.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything.

“You serious about this girl?” she asked, taking a drag. “What’s she look like?”

I lifted my shirt to show her my tattoo. “Like this.”

She gave a low whistle. “Damn, I guess you are serious. She’s pretty.”

“I know. But we may have broken up.”

“What? Why?”

“She got super drunk and I got super pissed.”

I expected her to tell me I was stupid and what was the harm with a little drinking, but she didn’t. She just nodded. “You know I have to tell you something.”

Oh, God. I braced myself for something horrible. “Do I want to know this?”

“Sure. It’s nothing bad. I just wanted to tell you that I lied to you about your father. He wasn’t just some guy I went out with a few times. I was in love with him. The only man I’ve ever loved.”

“Really?” She had always told me that my dad was a loser but he’d been awesome in bed. Which is, of course, what every guy wants to hear his mother say. Not.

“Really.” She picked at a scab on her knee, her fingernail polish chipped, a shocking pink color. “But he couldn’t deal with me drinking and using. He turned his back on me when I needed him the most. Not that I’m saying he could have stopped me from doing what I was doing, but I needed to know he believed in me, you know?”

There was a lump in my throat that threatened to cut off my airway. She was trying to tell me that I needed to be supportive of Robin. My first instinct was to feel defensive and to resent that she would have the nerve to offer me advice. But I knew for her to be serious about something instead of joking around or being bitchy, she must really think it was important. And I knew, deep down, that she was right. Robin’s problems were mine, too, no matter how much I wanted to walk away, because I loved her. And I should try to help her, not run scared. Was I perfect? Obviously not. So I damn well couldn’t expect her to be.

“I don’t blame him for leaving. He had to do what was right for him, but I can’t say that I’ve ever really gotten over it. I fucked up by picking the drugs over him, but he just walked away and damn, that was painful, sending me straight for more drugs. So I always just chose shitty guys because I know they’re shitty. No chance for me to be hurt when they leave.”

I nodded. “You do choose shitty men.”

She laughed and nudged with me her knee. “Shut up. But maybe that’s why I wasn’t the best mother either. I didn’t want to love you too much. But I couldn’t help myself. I did anyways. You came out of the happiest time in my life.”

Now I really didn’t know what to say. “I love you, too.” I did. How could I not? She was my mother.

“You were a cute baby, you know. Born with all that dark hair. Big old eyes. You’d be so quiet and calm and then bam! You’d just start screaming.”

Apparently not much had changed.

“So you ever talk to my father after he left?” There was something nice to be said about knowing they had cared about each other, that I wasn’t just the result of a blind grope in a dark room.

“No. I saw him once at a biker bar. He was always into bikes. But I freaked out and ran away before he saw me.” She shrugged. “It sucks to spend your life loving someone and not being with them. Don’t do that. If you love her, fight for it, you know?”

“Yeah.” I did. She was right. It wouldn’t be easy, but what was? I loved Robin.

“Now stop making me all sentimental,” she said. “Say something dickish so I feel normal again.”

I reached out and flicked her cigarette with my finger and thumb, sending it sailing into the yard. “Quit smoking.” I grinned as she sputtered. “How was that?”

“Turd.”

But when I wrapped my arm around her in a semi-hug, she actually leaned into my touch.

And for the first time in a decade, I felt like she was a mom, not just the woman who had given birth to me.

Bonus.

I stood in the shower as long as I could stand, the water pouring over my face in a hot stream, washing away my tears and the tangy ripe odor of sweat and liquor and vomit. If only I could wash away my guilt and my confusion.