"So why haven't I seen you in the two weeks I've been home?" I asked Clara after we'd discussed my trip and plans for senior year.
She poured more coffee for herself. "Well, I met someone a few months ago, and I stay with him a lot.
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and she must've seen it. She shook her head and gave me a contrite smile.
"I guess it sounds bad," she offered. "Me leaving Lauren alone so much. Between my job, her school and job, and then all of the things she's involved in, we just don't run into each other a lot. I figure she's happier on her own more and well . . ."
Her over-explanation and inability to finish her thought said more about her disappointment over her relationship with her daughter than anything else.
And why was she so busy that her being home was unnecessary?
"What do mean 'all the things she's involved in'?" I asked.
She knitted her brows. "Well, she works at the garage a few days a week,
races, and then has other obligations. She's hardly ever home, and when she is, it's just to sleep usually. But, I do keep tabs on her. When I bought us both new phones for Christmas last year, I installed a GPS app on her so I always know where she is."
Okay, that's not weird.
"What other obligations did you mean?" I asked.
"Oh," she said with a nervous smile, "around the time you left last year,
things got pretty bad here. Lauren was out at all hours. Sometimes, she didn't even come home. My . . . drinking . . . got worse with the stress of Lauren's behavior." She paused and shrugged her shoulders. "Or maybe her behavior got worse with my drinking. I don't know. But I entered rehab for about a month and got detoxed."
Since I'd lived on this street, eight years now, Lauren's mom had had a
drinking problem. Most of the time she'd been functional, able to go to work and handle Lauren. After she came back from visiting her dad that summer three years ago, she'd changed, and Lauren's mom had sought escape in the bottle more often.
"She got into some trouble, and then she got it together. But steps needed to be taken, for both of us."
I continued to listen, unfortunately too interested into this rare peek of Lauren's life. She still hadn't explained the "other obligations", but I wasn't going to pry further.
"Anyway, a few months ago I started seeing someone, and I've been staying with him on the weekends in Chicago. Lauren has a lot going on, and I just don't feel like she needs me. I stay here most school nights, but she knows to stay out of trouble on the weekends."
Yeah, instead of taking her debauchery elsewhere, she brought it home with her.
Some people might see her reasoning as logical, since Lauren was almost an adult, but I let my judgment form. As much as I liked her, I blamed her for a lot of Lauren's unhappiness growing up.
I didn't know the whole story, but I'd heard enough to figure out that Lauren's father wasn't a good man. He had left when Lauren was two, before I even lived in the neighborhood. Clara raised her daughter almost completely alone, but she had developed a drinking problem during her marriage.
When Lauren was fourteen, her father called and asked if Lauren could come and visit him for the summer. Happily, Lauren agreed and left for eight weeks. After the visit, though, she returned cold and cruel. Her mother's problem got worse, and she was utterly alone.
I'd always known, deep down, that Lauren's problem with me was tied to that summer.
The truth was I resented Clara. And even though I'd never met Lauren's father, I resented him, too. I would take responsibility if I'd hurt Lauren, but I had no idea what I could've done to deserve her hatred. Her parents, on the other hand, had clearly abandoned her.
It was one the tip of my tongue to ask her about her scars, but I knew she wouldn't tell me.
Instead, I asked, "Does she see his father?"
She glanced at me, and I instantly felt like I'd invaded Top Secret territory. "No," was all she said.
