think pink.

29: sorry mama

Bee was not always a frail woman, but as she stood bearing her weight feebly, I saw her as she had been before. Until those surrounding her drained every ounce of her warmth. I hated seeing her in times like this.

I remember when I first met her and tried to address her formally. I still can see the familiar glint in her eyes that she shared with her son as she grabbed my fingers, squeezing them together. "Call me Bee or Mama." 

Her southern drawl when she said Mama made my cheeks tighten. I looked down at our hands.

This was back when things were happy. Mr. Balmudo was doing well in business and the man was well-respected in town. Just a short few months later, Leo told me off his affairs, his drugs, and his women. Bee crumbled. Leo spent many days at home to watch her, making sure she took at least some care of herself.

Bee was a lot like Leo. He had her eyes and her mannerisms but only when he shook off his rigid facade of an attitude. 

"I'm sorry, Bee," I said now breathlessly, trying to stop that shiver in my chest that made my voice shake. "I should go."

Her eyes were turned down. Her clothes looked like heavyweight drapes over her bluish frame. She rubbed at the muscles in her hands. Being a seamstress for many years since before Leo was born had caused her hands to grow arthritic. Leo and I were both only children and highly respected our mothers; they worked hard. They weren't just downright homemakers.

"Kathryn," she murmured dryly. Bee opened her arms as her elbows stayed glued to her side. 

I hesitated, shifting my weight on my feet in short steps as if trying to find my escape route. With a sniffle, I padded over to Bee. I sat my chin on her shoulder and allowed her to embrace me.

She didn't know every detail leading up to this moment, and I took a second to ponder what Leo must have told her on why we were no longer spending every waking moment together. 

She just changed schools. She moved away. She didn't want me no more... Who knows.

I squeezed my eyes shut and I assumed she did too. I could not recall the last time I had seen her and now here I was in a cold sweat, holding back the heaviest of tears over her boy. I hoped this hug spoke a thousand words.

"I'll drive you home," Leo grumbled. I hadn't heard him come from the bathroom.

I pulled from Bee's hold and she gave me a nod, turning to leave us alone once again. I frowned a bit, not wanting to be cornered by him again. The thought of getting back in his car for quite the drive home made me nauseous. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"No," I exhaled, clearing my throat. "I'll get a ride."

The light gloomed out into the bedroom as Leo leaned in the bathroom doorway. He was hunched over in his gangly form.

June sat tiredly in the driver's seat, her elbow propped on the door's frame, as she sat waiting for me outside of the Balmudo house. This wasn't her first rodeo. It was a saga she had time to perfect on bright, early mornings like this. Get my call, ask her mother for her car, drive the familiar streets, and park outside of Leo's townhome until I'd make my hasty exit in a rage.

I wanted so badly for this to be the end of Leo and me for good, but I made a mistake as I got into June's car. I looked back.