Dear Nick

Tough Guy

"Hi, Baby." My mother said, taking a few steps toward me, as she ran her hand along the back of my car. At first, I thought, maybe, she was holding her drunk self up, but then I saw she was sober. At least, she appeared to be. It had been awhile since I had seen this version of my mother, so I couldn't be completely sure. "You look well." Her hand gestured toward me & she managed a smile. When I saw her teeth, I realized she must have gotten a man to pay to have them fixed. The last time I saw her, they weren't pretty. Now, they looked amazing. I felt a little resentment since my crooked teeth were a reminder of her neglect. She never bothered to get me braces, even though the dentist had recommended them. If it hadn't been for my grandmother, I would have even gone to the dentist, regularly. I had my mom's mouth, my grandma would say. She meant it physically & metaphorically because sometimes I could sound like a real asshole, reminding people of my mom. I've learned to control that part of me, since the Marines have no tolerance for disrespect.

"How'd you know where I was?" I asked the woman in front of me, clenching my teeth together.

"Well, I have been driving by your uncle's house for awhile now, since I live a few miles down that road & yesterday I drove by & saw the car was gone, so I stopped to ask him what happened to it. He told me he gave it to you & that you're living with Demi." She squinted as she looked around, then waved toward the house. "I used to date a guy who lived on the top floor."

I let out a chuckle under my breath, thinking that this didn't surprise me. My mom always had guys coming & going in her life, as well as from our house. If it hadn't been for my grandpa & seeing the way he treated my grandma, or seeing Demi's parents together, I would have been even more fucked up from my childhood. I never knew my father. He was a guy my mom knew in high school & before he knocked her up, she had big dreams of moving to New York to be a fashion photographer. I knew this was why she resented me. I ruined her dreams. According to her, anyway. Honestly, my father ruined her dreams. He got her pregnant, then took off the moment she told him the news & never once looked back. The only thing I knew about my father was his name. Rick Harris. I didn't even know what he looked like, but my grandmother said I looked a lot like him. I didn't have anything from him, not even his name. My mom gave me her last name, Jonas. I was glad, though, because my grandfather was one I admired & looked up to before he died. I was honored to have his last name.

"Anyway, I got back into town a few months ago. I heard what happened to you. I'm glad you're here." My mom said & actually sounded sincere. I took in a deep breath & glanced away, quickly. "I hear they're throwing you a big hero's bash next weekend. I read about it in the paper & a bunch of people have been talking about it, since you're a local boy. I keep hearing about the tough guy turned marine from Montebello." My mother, chuckled, leaning her backside on the car & putting her hands in her jeans pockets. "That boy you saved... his dad... I hear he's filthy rich & is going all out. Rented out the Chateau Marmont & the president might come. That's pretty amazing."

Now, I understood why she was here. I knew she had an agenda. "So that's why you're here. That's why, suddenly, you want to pretend you're my mom. You want an invite to this thing so you can partake in the free booze." I crossed my arms & rocked on my feet, my expression smug.

She clicked her tongue at me & shook her head. "No. I want to come because I'm your mother. Not for pretend. For real."

I let out a sarcastic laugh. "You're not my mother. Not one time did you send me a letter in the almost four years I was gone. Not once did I get a fucking care package, from you, while I was in Iraq. Hell, you sold our house & moved away & didn't even bother to let me know. I had to find out from Demi. So, don't even try to claim you're my mother. You haven't been a mother to me since I was four years old." My voice cracked, so I cleared my throat & looked at the ground. "I gotta go. Maybe, I'll see you around, but I'm hoping not." I turned to get in my car when my mom reached to grab my arm, making me jump since I hadn't felt her touch in years.