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“Hi, I’m Marley. Nice to meet you.”
She shook my hand firmly and looked me directly in the eyes.
“Nice to meet you Marley. Is my brother treating you okay? Because I'll get on him if he isn’t.”
“He’s fine,” she laughed. “I haven't had any problems out of him yet, but if I do, I'll let you know.”
I winked and we smiled at each other, while Nick huffed and playfully rolled his eyes over the stove. They were cute kids. Young, wild, and free of the real world. Marley was, anyway. Nick, on the other hand, wasn’t exactly so free.
“I’ll catch you later Nick,” I said. “I’m going to try and have a talk with mom about Trent.”
I can’t tell you the last time I saw my mom in person. It was probably just before I left; a little after Trent went to prison. I was fed up with her and we said some pretty nasty things to each other. Most of them she deserved, but me? I didn’t think I deserved any of it. I picked up her slack, I helped her with showers, I ran off the guys who tried to take advantage of her. I was practically her knight in shining armor and all I was given as a thank you was her ass to kiss.
When I made it up the stairs to her door, I heard her inside rustling around in the bed. She moaned and groaned like she didn’t get any sleep the night before. I was willing to bet there were a ton of liquor and beer bottles all over the bedroom floor, and it was nasty inside, just like downstairs.
“Mom,” I gently knocked at the door and waited for her to answer. “Mom, it’s Mia.”
Complete silence fell upon the room and the hallway where I stood. My heart started to thud in my chest as I waited for what was next to come. I wasn’t sure if she would yank the door open and pitch a fit or open it with her arms spread for a hug. What worried me the most was what she would look like when I finally set eyes on her again.
My mom had always been a very beautiful woman. She was small in height, petit in her frame, had long gorgeously flowing hair, and eyes that could melt the toughest of hearts. She was a natural. However, dealing with the kind of men she liked to deal with had ruined her self-esteem and made her feel worthless enough to let herself go.
“Mom, are you going to open up?” I asked again. “I need to talk to you. It's about Trent.”
At the mention of Trent’s name, I heard heavy footsteps rushing toward the door. She always came running when she thought Trent was in trouble or she needed his help with something. At times, it made me jealous. I felt like she loved him way more than she loved me and Nick. When she opened the door to face me for the first time in years, she didn’t even ask me how I was doing. Her first response was about Trent.
“What about Trent? Is my baby okay? What happened?” she asked frantically. “Did something happen with one of the guards again?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. I wasn’t aware of any incident that happened with the guards because Trent and I stopped talking years ago. He got transferred to a new facility and my career in writing picked up so much I didn’t have time to visit for a while.
“Hello to you too, ma.”
I let myself into her room and took a seat in the chair next to her bed. When I was younger, I would sit on top of her bed but when I got older and realized what people do in the privacy of their bedrooms, I stopped.
“Hi Mia,” she smiled softly. “I’m sorry. It's been a long night, and I was so worried about Trent. How are you? It's been a long time since you stopped by.”
I took a long look at her. She was smaller than I'd ever seen her. Her hair was a matted mess, her eyes were sunken in, and her skin was dingy like she’d been roaming the streets for hours with no way to call home.
“I’ve been fine, mom. How have you been?”
She looked down at her clothes like it should be obvious how she’d been. My heart broke into a million pieces as I watched her scurry around her room aimlessly picking over things that should have gone in the trash ages ago.
“I’m making it.” She let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Nothing much has been new this way, you know. Just trying to keep my head above water these days.”
“You know you can reach out to me whenever you need to, right?” I ask. “I’m still your daughter and I do still care about you.”
My mom took a seat on the bed and began picking at her chipped and broken fingernails. I hated seeing her that way. She was so stressed, so worried about Trent, and lifeless, she looked like a zombie trying to find its way back to its soul.
“I know,” she spoke softly. “I just don’t want to be a burden on you or anything. We've already got enough turbulent water under our bridge that needs smoothing out before we can act like we’re friends again.”
I didn’t say anything, but I took offense to that. My mother and I should have been able to smooth things over before they became as turbulent as they were. After years of not seeing or speaking to each other, I felt like my mother should have had a ready apology for me or at least been able to be my mom again.
“We don’t have to be enemies, mom. The things we said to each other were out of pure anger and frustration. I didn't mean it; I hope you didn’t mean it. I understand that we’re not going to get along all the time, but when it really matters the most, we should be able to come together as a family. You're my mother.”
She nodded her head a little, but I could tell it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Her sleep was wearing off and she was ready for a drink or a hit, whatever she did those days to make herself feel alright. I hated it when her craving to escape reality started to set in. She got mean and rude, lost patience and wanted to run away from everything and everyone. It's why I left home to begin with.
“What’s this about Trent?” she asked. “You said you wanted to talk about him. We can talk about all that other stuff another time. Is he okay? I haven’t been able to reach him for a while now and all of my letters keep getting returned.”
“Yeah, Trent.” I was frustrated and ready to call the conversation off, but for the sake of my brother, I stuck it out. “I haven’t heard from him in a while either. I was hoping you'd be able to tell me if they moved him and if so, where to. But I guess we’re in the same boat here.”
