No Strings

Chapter 45--Girl Stands Up for Herself

I got home from work, exhausted. I was trying to sort through the papers I was forced to take home to meet the new deadlines. Another expense report and I needed to make a chart with it--a pie and line graph. I moaned at the thought. And then I needed to make a list of the major companies that used our services. There was no use delaying the inevitable. I couldn't shirk my duties because I didn't want to do secretarial duties anymore. I hefted the papers up the stairs and looked up at the door.

I found my mother waiting on my doorstep. I paused, but then I realized that I shouldn't be afraid of her.

"Hello," I said, "Let me open the door and get the papers inside."

Her lips were quivering. I shifted the papers to my left arm and then opened the door. I put the papers in the front hall and let my mother in.

"I can't stand this divorce," she started without me prompting.

"I don't think I'm the best person to talk to about this subject. I'd be happy to talk about something else."

She ignored me.

"When you left, your father would look into your room sometimes. I didn't know why, but I think he blamed me. I think that's why he asked for the house."

I breathed. I had to make her understand that I had a line to stick to. I could not let her walk over me.

"When you say things like that it hurts my feelings."

She didn't hear me. "If you hadn't left, you know, maybe things would be better."

"Mom, please stop it. What you are saying now hurts. I wouldn't let Dad talk to you that way about you."

"But he still insisted--"

"If you cannot stop, you will have to leave. I will give you one more chance. You are welcome to talk to me about other things. I would like to know how you have been doing otherwise."

She didn't turn towards me, she kept going.

"Leave," I said over her talking.

"Your father--"

I ground my feet into the ground and said, "You have to leave now."

I left the room. She called after me demanding that I return to her. I could hear her crying. I picked up the papers from the front hall. My heart strings pulled. I wanted to still please her. I still wanted her to hug me and say that she loved me for who I was. I paused and let my tears overcome me. I went upstairs.

I wished as I climbed the steps that real life problems could be solved in a few minutes with moral lessons and sorries like they were on television. I shut my eyes, letting tears fall down my face. Always imperfect solutions to difficult problems. I still wished it was that simple, though I knew it wasn't realistic. I wanted it to be true so that I could make the woman in my living room stop crying, that my heart wouldn't hurt so much.

I returned downstairs later to see if she had calmed down. She was gone. I called her cellphone once. She didn't pick up. I called her a week later. She didn't pick up. She never picked up. I didn't hear from her again.