CC7

CC7 - Part 23

Lauren’s POV

The day before

My hands were shaking mildly after I had rang the doorbell. I sure as hell shouldn’t be this nervous to come home but I was. That nagging feeling in my stomach wouldn’t disappear. Something was about to happen and it probably wasn’t going to be good.

I had made the decision to come to Miami and fix whatever was going wrong with my mom. Apparently she was refusing her meds and told her therapist I was the only one she wanted to talk to. I remembered Camila telling me that I couldn’t put my life on hold when we had seen each other last week. But that was exactly what I did. I dropped everything to help my family. That’s what I was supposed to do, right?

The crucial exams were over and I had a few days off from the Breakers so timing was good. It seemed like a no-brainer to come here. Then why was I so fucking nervous?

A few moments passed and I rang the bell again before the front door was opened. The surprised look on my mother’s face was evident. I hadn’t told her about my visit because I wanted to see in what condition she really was without having time to hide anything.

“Lauren!” she exclaimed in a mixture of shock and joy.

“Hey mom” I replied softly and saw her arms stretching out to hug me. Taking a step forward, I let her embrace me and reciprocated the light pressure of her body.

“I’m so happy to see you. Why didn’t you say something? Then I would have cooked something or prepared a fun day for us”, the older woman said and let go of me.

I smelled it immediately. The alcohol in her breath was so striking that I scrunched up my nose almost. That was not the smell of an afternoon drink. More like a bottle of vodka. I put on a happy face and tried to be calm while entering the house and telling her it had been a spontaneous decision to come. The strangest assortment of feelings overwhelmed when I was inside. Although it was my home and the place where I had grown up, there were many painful memories in that house.

Attempting to ignore the arising emotions, I sat down in the living room with my mom and we made casual conversation for a few minutes. I told her about soccer and school. For a second I thought about revealing Camila but brushed it off instantly. This wasn’t the right time. I needed to get to the point.

“Mom, Taylor called me”, I started out carefully while eyeing her opposite of me in the armchair. “And your therapist as well. They said you are refusing to take your meds.”

“I am fine. I don’t need those pills anymore. Look at me, don’t I seem fine to you?” my mother smiled widely but her appearance was anything but fine.

“That’s not the point. You may be fine now but that can change the longer you avoid the medication”, I reasoned.

“You are always so worried about me but I can take care of myself”, her voice changed to defensive and I felt my own frustration building.

“Well, maybe you can or maybe you can’t”, I replied and she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“That…we all need some help at times. And we had this discussion so many times, mom. You agreed to go to therapy, take your meds and be sober. Obviously you are not doing any of those things and I don’t see how that is taking care of yourself”, my own voice began shaking for some reason.

“I am sober!” she objected strongly and I sighed deeply.

“Don’t lie to me, please”, was all I could respond.