There are over 70 thousand apartment buildings and over a million residential apartments crammed into New York City's 300-square miles. One may say it was the low, yet still ridiculously high, rent at The Mare's Nest that drew her in. Or the fact it...
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The clock on the wall moves painfully slow.
Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
Each passing second feels like an eternity to both Mara and her mom. They sit in close proximity, in near silence and in absolute discomfort.
"Is there a reason you came here?" Mara questions her mom as the damaged matriarch sits on her daughter's damaged couch. Mara briefly assesses the poor state of her living situation but swiftly remembers she has nothing to feel sorry about. All her surroundings are a result of her pride-worthy independence. She's living the life her mom always secretly wished she herself had lead, whether her mother wanted to admit it or not.
Mara paces to the kitchen, her fingers grasping the fridge's handle for a distraction for them both. Her eyes scan its contents. Leftover baked goods. Old cheese. Burnt biscuits. Half-filled bottles of wine.
"Now why would I need an excuse to check on my own daughter? My flesh and blood!" Kathleen melodramatically throws her head back and awaits her daughter's return.
"Wine it is!" Mara grabs the bottle and retrieves two mason jars from her practically-bare cabinet. She pours her and her mom two hefty glasses of sauvignon blanc and makes her way back to the tense living room of her apartment.
"I promised your dad that I—" Kathleen initially refuses the drink.
"Mom, grow a pair." Mara shoves the cool glass into her mother's hand. She's never talked to her mom in such a way. She's never talked to ANYONE that way. But she's come to a point in her life and a state of comfort with herself that she has no qualms in this moment to take charge.
"Did you just tell me to 'grow a pair?' How archaic of you." Kathleen grabs the drink and devours it in three giant gulps.
Mara smirks to herself. Regardless of her impression of her mom, she's always seen the rebel behind her domestic eyes. The sight of her mom chucking back the alcohol is one for the books. She recognizes something different in her mom's stare. Something desperate for help. Something complicated. Something Mara hasn't been a part of for quite some time.
Yet as Mara looks at the gleaming fluorescent lights in her mom's irises, the colors of hope and optimism reflection off the blue-gray color. She realizes there's much she hasn't been made privy to. The basics of her mom and dad's complicated relationship play in loop at the forefront of Mara's mind but the details of her history at home are still somewhat a mystery. A strange concept considering she's been a part of that life for many years.
"Mom, are you okay?" Mara tastes the wine pass by her lips. She watches as her mom's expression turns from frigid to distinctly worried. Both looks are similar on paper but once you see them reflected in another person's face — someone that you've known your entire life — you see a distinct difference.
