Stuck with a Punk ✔

No. 18.: Desperate

I open the door in haste and without saying 'Hello, long time no see, want some coffee?', I go "To the bathroom!"

My mother peers at me with almost teary eyes and I honestly hope that's because of the smell "Nathan-"

"The bathroom!" I growl, hoping to fix one family drama before another one starts. I push the door and it closes behind her, almost squeezing her between the doorframe, as I quickly scatter towards the bathroom. "It's in there..." I say breathlessly, slowly coming up with a plan how am I gonna pull this off after she's done with the little shit prick.

She stops in front of it and glances up at me "Nathan, listen-"

"No! No! Later!" I brush her off quickly, partly because there's a smelly screaming baby in the next room and partly because I ain't dealing with that emotional luggage just yet.

My mother gives me a pointed look that stopped working on me the week when daily there was a different man having breakfast with us, Daniel, May and me.

"Okay." She says and goes in.

I am shocked, surprised and delighted when I don't hear her screaming in agony. I guess this comes naturally to women.

She takes her time with Devon and thankfully, at some point he stops crying endlessly. I don't know what she did, but I like it.

But honestly, what was I thinking? I could've called who-knows-who, even Justine would be a much better choice than my fucking mother!

God knows what she's gonna make out of it, maybe that I've forgotten everything from the past, or that I actually trust her, like Daniel and May do. The thing is, they weren't as exposed to her merry adventures as I was, but I was and am not planning on forgiving her for neglecting her own children anytime soon.

As I think about this, I come to a conclusion, I'm a huge douchebag, calling out for her to help me and then just dismiss her. But I don't feel guilty, not even one bit. I recall many times when I, Daniel or May needed her and she was nowhere to be seen. But if May and Daniel were in trouble, I'd step forward, while I had no one to do it for me.

Whenever they called from school to talk to her about me fighting with other kids, beating the shit out of them, she barely budged and her usual response was she'd talk it out with me. She never asked why did I hit them. If she did that, she'd maybe realise how much all of us needed her after Dad moved to Chicago. Maybe she'd see how bullied May was on a daily basis or how lonely Daniel felt until he came to high school.

Sometimes, when I can't sleep at night, I wonder what does she think when she looks at the photos of us.

'Ah, my boy, Daniel. My youngest, who spent a lot of time with his big brother. And May, my only daughter. She married with some athletic guy, a jock. Nathan, my first-born. I think he works at one of the big companies.'

After I've already finished college and was working as a pathetic engineer's assistant's assistant's assistant, Daniel managed to talk me into coming to all-family lunch. That year, was the last year I attended it because I always ended up arguing with our mother, usually over some memories. I always kept my mouth shut at the event, waiting for the time to pass by and go to a club, hook up with a girl and have hell of a good time, but when Patty (of course, who else) brought up some old photos of us, which Daniel kept at home, I noticed how many things Dad remembered and how many Mum did.

When he saw a picture of one time he visited and we played baseball, he'd say "I remember this. Nathan, you had the irresistible urge to keep batting that ball at May and you pulled Daniel into it, as per usual. Some big bad brother you were, son. Thankfully, we didn't end up at the E.R. and we finished our picnic in peace."