I Can't Take It Anymore

8. When is enough, ever enough

Later that night:

That nap was everything. Here I am sitting in my bed buried underneath five pounds of comforters, but at this moment this was everything. I probably would still be sleep but I jumped out my sleep once I heard mom moving around in the kitchen. A loud noise of roaring bounced around in my room reminding me that I haven't ate all day. My food from early is still on my desk just sitting.

Walking downstairs I smelled one of my favorite dishes. Every since my mom took this seafood spot. I've been stuck on shrimp and grits. This is basically my go to meal. The only thing I'm not understanding is why she's up and moving around. Not that I'm complaining because I love some food, but you already know that by now. Mom is wearing a tight-fitting dress and donors favorite color, black. Like who actually likes that color it's so dark but I guess it makes sense for a dark individual. Mom's hair was even done showing off her natural curls. Finally she noticed me and automatically smiled. It's now all starting to make sense. The only person to get her like this is her husband.

"I'm glad you're finally up. I want you to go back upstairs and get dressed. Your dad is coming home! He called while you were sleeping. I made him dinner," she exclaimed. I only shook my head in disbelief it's always the same thing with them. She always lets him come running back after he treats her like dirt.

"Why are you so happy?" I asked, not being able to help myself. Mom dropped the spoon that she was using to stir the grits to give me a death glare. She probably can tell that I'm not happy about his soon to be arrival.

"I'm happy because our family will finally be back all under the same roof. When he comes don't start with your mess. I just need one night, please?" she begged.

A laugh escaped from my mouth unexpectedly. I really didn't mean for it to come out but oh well. She needed something to make her understand that this was all one big joke. She scolded me then went back to cooking. As I was making my way back upstairs to my room, mom yelled, "And wear something nice! Not one of them outfits from school. Maybe try a dress!" I rolled my eyes making my way to my closet. Not only was she allowing him to come back but now she's trying to dictate what I'm choosing to wear. This is one of the my many reasons for me hating him. He always manages to change her to the point she almost forgets about herself.

Glancing around my closet I notice a overall jumper. It's simple and gives mom what she wants. No it's not a dress but it's something that I wouldn't wear on a daily. I'm going through all my shoes, figuring that I'll wear my old school vans with a black shirt to go with the jumper. My hair is a different story. I still haven't combed out my hair, so it's still a mess. I honestly don't have the energy to comb through my hair, so two buns will just have to work. I'm now dressed sitting on my bed scrolling through old post when I heard the front door slam. To be honest I'm not ready for dinner. I know that it can only result in one way, which is going to be a disaster.

"Your dad's here!" mom yelled from the hallway. Sighing I headed downstairs. As I walked into the kitchen, I can hear both mom and donor talking amongst themselves. Mom seems more interested in the conversation than donor.

I picked the seat that was furthest from donor because it's already bad enough that I have to breathe the same air as him but now here I am about to have a dinner with him only a couple feet away from me. The kitchen table looks like she cooked for the whole neighborhood. There's glasses filled with water, plates that sat in front of the seats waiting for everyone to sit in., and a huge pot of shrimp and grits . Mhm... my favorite but now I'm not going to be able to enjoy it. Today is just not my day for food. Everyone began to fix their plates, except for me. I'm not about to sit here and eat with him being this close. I guess mom noticed.