𝐈 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Jonesy

  I had known Mallory had moved to Fairmont a year ago, I just hadn't been expecting it to be in such a nice area. It was much nicer than my childhood home. Much, much nicer.
  She had remarried, had stepchildren, a white Picket fence, and a Bernese mountain dog. The whole picture perfect life Ellis and I deserved.
  Instead we got a crappy house that was constantly falling apart and two parents who spent Friday nights drunk and screaming at each other.
  I had driven around the neighborhood twice, making sure the address Ellis had given me was the correct one. I then parked across the street from Mallory's new home.
  I hadn't met my step siblings or step dad since I hadn't bothered going to their wedding. I had only seen pictures Ellis had sent me from their Christmas card last year. Scott Benfield and his seventeen year old twin daughters, Natasha and Natalie. They went to Fairmont's private prep school, set to graduate in the spring.
  I sat in my care and stared at the house. Despite it being very much a coastal beachfront house, it felt haunting.
  "Don't get all chicken shit, Jones. It's just your mom." I muttered to myself, suddenly feeling a deep sense of sympathy and understanding for Althea. She was brave enough to admit she was scared of her parents. Was this how she felt whenever I brought them up? This unnerving feeling of fear and anxiety? The nausea that did not and would not go away?
  I knocked on the door and waited; the dog that had been in the front window started barking and I heard the familiar and yet new sound of my mother telling him to shut up.
  How I wished I could've captured the look of shock on her face when our eyes met. She looked up at me, her mouth slack and eyes wide. I had always been taller than her, much taller.
  "Jonesy," Mallory whispered, the color draining from her face. "What are you doing here?"
  "Hi, Mom." I forced the word out. It felt odd calling her that. It felt weird seeing her, speaking to her. We stood there awkwardly, neither of us making a move to engage the other in an embrace. We hadn't hugged since one night in highschool, almost six years ago.
  "What are you doing here?" She looked over her shoulder quickly before slipping out the door and closing it behind her. She wrapped her cardigan around her body tighter and crossed her arms.
  "Am I turning into you?" I finally blurted out. Mallory's eyes widened before her shoulders relaxed.
  "No, Jones." She gently held out her hand as if waiting for my consent to touch me before placing it on my arm. She was so small, so little compared to me. "There are some parts of me that I think you might have, but all the rest, the best parts of you are your father."
  "But the bad parts, that's you right? The need to shove people away, the need to shut myself down and not accept help, I get that from you?" I didn't consider myself a bad person, sure I had done some pretty shitty things but I usually had valid reasons. I wasn't a bully or a homewrecker.
  "You're not a bad person, Jonesy. You just happen to come from a long line of women who got their worst traits from their mothers." Mallory sat down on the top stair of the porch and motioned for me to follow suit.
  I took the seat beside her, making sure to leave enough comfortable space between us. I gave my mom a quick look over, taking note of the subtle yet drastic changes in her.
  Her gray eyes weren't dull or lifeless anymore, they weren't super dilated either. Her cheeks weren't sunken anymore and had a fresh pink hue to them. She no longer looked as if she might blow away with the wind.
  She looked healthy. She looked happy. I had rarely seen my mother happy, especially after the divorce. She had always been drunk and high but never truly happy. Not like she was now.
  Maybe she was right. Maybe I just happen to get the worst parts of her, which she got from her mother, who got it from a long line of mothers like her mother. But that didn't justify what she had done to me and my brother for years.
  She had chosen to divulge herself in her bad traits, she became them. I didn't want to be her.
  "You know, I think about that night all the time." Mallory's voice was soft by my side and I turned my body towards her. "In part I blame myself; if I h-if I hadn't tossed you out, you wouldn't have had to call her-" A sob caught in her throat and she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth.
  "It's been killing me since then. I wasn't there for you after she died. I was so consumed with the drinking and the pills that I wasn't there when you needed me." She grabbed me tightly and I flinched backwards out of habit.
  Mallory instantly let go. "I just need you to forgive me, Jones."
  I could feel my heart pounding frantically in my chest and my head spun. I hadn't been expecting this, an actual conversation and an apology. I was expecting a screaming match and possibly a noise complaint.
  I swallowed and my throat felt like sandpaper. "I-uh..." My voice trailed off as I tried to grab hold of my thoughts. Did I forgive her? Was I still angry or had I simply stopped thinking about it and giving it my energy.
  Did I still hate her? No, I had come all this way to talk to her and my accepting her apology was part of the plan. Maybe I did have a five step plan after all.
  "I forgive you, Mom," I answered quietly and instantly if felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I had spent so much of my life harboring anger and resentment towards my mother, not just for Amaiah's death, without realizing that she herself was also a victim and product of her environment.
  Mallory smiled and wiped her face with her sleeve. "I know I didn't ever show it properly, but you and your brother were the best parts of my life while in that house. And your father-"
  I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, her small body fitting into my much larger. "It's okay, Mom. We don't have to talk about Dad."
  I had idolized my dad growing up; I had been what most people would call a "daddy's girl." I picked up hockey because after he tore his rotator cuff, he couldn't play anymore. I was into the same movies as him, the same music.
  When my parents split I had blamed Mallory, because my dad was perfect in my eyes. Later in life, I realized that no one is perfect and my dad was very deeply flawed.
  Mallory and I sat in silence for several minutes, my arm still wrapped around her shoulders. It felt nice. Really nice.
  "So, what's been going on in your life?" She finally broke the silence. "I feel like I've missed out on so much."
  I inhaled nervously and forced out a chuckle. "Well, I fell in love. At least I think it was love."
  Mom leaned back skeptically, a brow cocked. "Was? Are you not anymore?"
  I didn't know.
  "Yeah, I still think so." I looked down at the hand I had resting on my knee. "But it doesn't really matter anymore, I broke up with her. It just hurts, that's all."
  Mallory sighed deeply and nodded, resting her head on my arm again. "It's going to hurt for a bit. If you still love her, why did you end things?"
  I stared ahead, watching the snow fall lightly from the sky. "She...well, she lied about coming out to her parents and embarrassed me in front of not only them, but an auditorium full of people. She's a figure skater, you see, and she had this Nutcracker performance on Friday. Her parents flew in and I was supposed to meet them, because she had told me that she had told them about me. So, that night I kissed her after her performance only to find out that she had in fact not told them about us."
  I ran my hands down my legs before resting my arms over my knees. "They freaked out, she freaked out, and I left."
  I felt the soft pressure of Mom's hand gently running up and down my back. "Did you guys talk it out? Did she say why she didn't tell them?"
  I shook my head. "I didn't give her the chance. I mean, she tried, but I just needed to get out of there." There was more silence before Mallory finally spoke.
  "I really think you should talk to her, it doesn't need to be face to face but at least call or text her. Does she know how you feel?"
  I scoffed. "What? That I'm angry? Upset? Hurt? Yeah, I'm pretty sure she does."
  I saw her shake her head in the corner of my eye. "No, Jones; that you love her."
  My face fell and I looked away. "She does, well she knows I did. I kind of told her as I was breaking up with her."
  "Oh, Jones."
  "I don't even think she wants to talk to me anyways; I said a lot of mean things to her, something I have the habit of doing when I'm upset or struggling to understand my feelings."
  I thought of Althea and her making cookies when she was upset. Maybe I needed something like that. Something I could do to get my frustration out that didn't involve hurting the people I cared about.
  "You definitely get that from me," Mallory laughed. I noticed her chattering teeth and a slight shiver ran down her body. "Would you like to come in? The twins are away at snow camp and Scott won't be back from work until much later."
  I perked up and smiled. "Yeah, actually I would love that." I ended up staying Sunday night with Mallory and Scott, crashing in their guest bedroom. It was nice being on better terms with my mom; we tried to cram almost two years into two days making up for lost time.
  I had almost forgotten about all of my problems until I went to bed and automatically reached for Althea only for her to not be there.
  Fuck my life.