Miss Jackson {b.u.}

{74}

"My Gioia,"

I quickly turned around. I looked around, just to make sure I wasn't going crazy. I mean, I am going crazy. All I hear is mom's voice. I know that she isn't here, but I like to think that she's always around me or the family. My eyebrows furrowed. I set the shirt that I finished folding down and walked out of the laundry room. When I finally convinced myself that it was just my head, I leaned against the wall and put my hands over my face. I heard Harley's small trots coming near me. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Harley was sitting in front of me. I kneeled, petting her head. She licked my face and I let out a chuckle. She jumped up and put her paws on my shoulders, basically hugging me. And Harley only did that with me. Harley jumped off of me and ran once she heard the front door open and close.

Brendon's warm voice echoed through the house. I hated being alone, in silence because all I think about is mom. The void is so much bigger when you lose someone who did everything for you. I tried my hardest not to think about her because she wouldn't want me or anyone else to sit in sorrow over her long-awaited death. But, not doing that makes it that much harder. Having to pretend that I have no emotion over mom was tiring. I want to feel what I'm supposed to feel, not what everyone else wants me to feel, "Joanne! I'm home."

I looked down and turned my attention back to the basket of unfolded clean laundry. I heard the kids rush to Brendon, "where's Momma?" Brendon asked in a child-like voice. I assume he was talking to one of the little ones.

I picked the basket up, letting it rest against my hip. Footsteps approached the laundry room and I looked up, "There you are, I've been looking for you."

I nodded my head and pressed my lips together. I was trying to avoid any conversation with him. I know that would make him suspicious, but that's how I felt. I didn't want o to be around anyone today. All of that sounds terrible and maybe if I tell Brendon, he'll understand. Before I could walk by, he set his hands on my shoulders lightly, stopping me, "okay. You haven't talked a lot today. What did I do?"

I shoved past him and raised my eyebrows, "you didn't do anything."

I heard Brendon slightly follow me to the living room, "Well, with the tone of voice you're using, I think that I can say I did something wrong."

I set the basket on the coffee table and sighed, "No Brendon," I began and took out clothes, "you didn't do anything wrong."

"It's not your wash day, Joanne."

I quickly glanced at him and furrowed my eyebrows, "what? W-what does that have to do with anything?"

Brendon walked up to me, taking the clothes from my hand and setting them back into the laundry basket, "I know, very well, Jj. You cleaned the whole house after your mom died."

I could sit down and confess how I was feeling. What I was feeling. That could be a terrible decision. I sat myself down on the couch, resting my elbows on my knees and placing my head in my hands. I felt Brendon sit next to me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me in, "you don't have to pretend that you're not hurting."

I took my hands away from my face, "we have three kids to take care of. There's no time to really feel what I should be."

Brendon sighed, "where did the fight in you go? You had it."

I leaned back into the couch. I tossed my hands over my face again, then took them off and rubbed them along my thighs, "I don't want to fight anymore. I'm tired, Brendon."

He set his hand on my thigh, "how do you feel? Even if you start to get lost in those thoughts, I will sit here and listen. You need to let it out."

I sat closer to the edge of the sofa. My head hanging low. Brendon's hand rubbed my back. I sniffled a little. Crying is my last resort, "I refrained from talking about it because I didn't want it to be true. And no matter how many times I tried to talk about it...I-I got lost and sounded stupid," I began, "there was no way of knowing when it was going to happen. She's my mom. She did everything for me.."