Pearl Grace Parker

Chapter Fifteen

Nine years later

Kathleen walks into the house with a teenage boy. I promptly say before they are completely inside, "Who is this?" Kathleen giggles like a school girl and says, "This is Brad, my boyfriend." I feel my face get hot and I yell, "Excuse me! You are only fifteen! Go to your room! And Mr. Brad got out of my house!" Kathleen stares at me and slowly walks up stairs. I watch her go and kick Brad out of the house. I yell up the steps at her, "And you won't be dating anyone until I say you can!" I immediately regret yelling at her once I see the tears run down her cheeks as she slams the door. I rub my forehead and close the front door. Uh, I need a book that says, "How to parent for dummies." I massage my temples and grab a bottle of vodka from the fridge. I take a quick swig and feel the headache slowly fade. I grab a cigarette and light it up inside. "Seriously Pearl, what are you doing?" I ask myself.

Hours later

I hear Kathleen slowly come down the stairs. She walks into the kitchen and sees my ashtray full and the empty bottle of vodka. She says as she looks at the ground, "I'm sorry mom. I thought I was able to date since everyone else in my class is dating people." I look up and sigh as I rub my eyes. I slur a little, "I shouldn't have yelled so quickly." She looks at me astonished. This was the first time I ever yelled at her. I am forty-six and this is the first time I yelled. I feel like a failure as a parent. I start crying and Kathleen doesn't seem to know what to do. I say through the tears, "I'm sorry. I just really wish your father was here. I don't know what I am doing?" This was the day that Kathleen and I became more than mother/daughter; we became good friends.

October 22, 1961

Today, I have turned fifty years old. Uh, I'm getting old. Kathleen tried baking a cake for me and somehow it turned into a rock. Don't ask me how it happened. I really don't know. Kathleen felt so ashamed of my cake but now three hours after the failure happened we are laughing about it. I blow out my new cake candles as Mary, my siblings, father and Kathleen sing to me. I look at my aging father and say to him and Mary, "We are getting old." They laugh and we start to cut the cake and pass it around. I notice the wrinkles that are settling into my face. I grimace at them and Kathleen says to me, "Mother you still look beautiful." I quickly say, "You should have seen me when I was your age." Kathleen laughs and pulls out a picture and says, "I have and you are still beautiful inside and out." I smile at my nineteen year old daughter who seems to have it all together.