I looked over at the boy than was sitting next to me. He had a coffee, black and unsweetened. I had been following this boy for most of my life; I knew what school he went to, his grades, his friends, his favorites.
Even to my own self I sounded like a stalker, even if I was just looking out for my baby boy I always felt that I shouldn’t. I highly doubt Abby or Henry told him about me and how he came into this world. Who his mother really was…
I would never approach him of course. I wouldn’t want to put doubt into his head of the love Abby and Henry had for him, not to tell him how his real mother was his current mother’s identical twin, or that we were broke up when we were babies. How Abby ended up with a loving and caring family while his real momma ended up with a child molesting man and his sorry excuse for a family.
His son was abusive and wanted to hurt things, thing that it was funny to force things where they didn’t belong. When he was of age to know what a man did to a woman that he did it every night, no matter what condition I was in.
How the woman that repeatedly said:
“She is safe. She is happy. We love and provide for her and we care. Those bruises, that’s just what they are. She falls and she hurts herself and she blames it on the people that love her.”
Day in and day out.
I smiled a little, the hot coffee in my cup warming my hands and the steam heating my face. The aroma of coffee use to gag me when I was pregnant with him. And now it was his favorite drink and he drank it all the time. Coffee still held bad memories for me though, the hot liquid running down my back and boiling the skin off, leaving scars that would never leave. And it made me laugh out loud at what I did to that bastard.
How I cut him up and threw him away, no one even knowing what had happened. I still go to his grave some times, taking a pot of coffee and dumping it in the cold soil in the middle of the woods. And I would laugh and cry and scream as I did it. Afterwards, I would feel good and happy and light and i would come to the coffee shop, in hopes to see the only good thing in my life, smile onto him from afar and stay out of his life to keep him happy.
A mommas gotta do what a mommas gotta do… right?
