Page 21 of Until Ace

One, two, three, four, five…, I count in my head so I won't be pulled into her desire to argue. Now is not the time to contradict her, to stand up to her and make her see the truth, no matter how small. I'm here for another reason.

Without participating further in this ridiculous conversation, I turn to an empty chair and sit down.

“What, you won't say anything?” she pushes.

I said something once. To this day, it's still a moment I'm most proud of.

After not seeing or talking to her for ten days, I mustered up all the strength I had in me, called her, and set up a meeting. Then, sitting opposite her, I listed all the things she did to me on a daily basis.

It was after my boyfriend’s stunt, and my mom encouraged me to take him back. It must’ve been something I did that drove him to cheat, she insisted. “God, if anyone knows how difficult you can get, it’s me,” she said dramatically. I walked out of their house without a word. For ten days, I had blissful silence. Until she forgot what happened and started demanding I come see them.

It was also the only time in forever that Dad had my back. As I was sitting there listing it all and she kept saying it was all a lie, he contradicted her, assuring her it was all true.

I had a little bit of reprieve from her antics, but it didn't last long. Somehow, she pulled me right back in.

As I remember, it had something to do with one of my siblings messing up. The problem is, they mess up so frequently I have trouble keeping track.

I sometimes wonder if I have Stockholm Syndrome when it comes to my mom. Because, realistically, I know this isn't healthy, but I keep coming back for more.

“No, Mom.” I pick up the coffee cup my dad placed in front of me, and before taking a sip, I count again, this time to twenty.

Good God, she drives me nuts. Why is it that I'm so desperate to get her approval for everything I do? And will that day ever come?

“So, what's new?” she asks as she sits opposite me and starts fidgeting with her phone.

It's an empty question, something she does just to go through the motions of trying to seem interested in my life before she spins everything around to her and her suffering. Of which I'm the main culprit.

“Mom, you know why I’m here,” I say quietly, looking at her.

“I have no idea. Did something happen?” She tries to act concerned but fails as she quickly looks at my dad and frowns.

I sigh. She’s determined to make this difficult for me. “It’s about Jim, Mom.”

“What about your brother? Is he all right?” Again with the act.

“Mom, you know Jim. You know what he’s up to—to some extent, at least. Besides, we talked about this already.” I almost give in to the urge to yell or shake some sense into her. Thankfully, I manage to restrain myself.

“I thought that was dealt with,” she seethes, and I can see the severity of the situation is seeping into her now as her face becomes ashen. “Why haven’t you dealt with it yet, Mandy?”

“Because I don’t have that kind of money, Mom,” I repeat for what feels like the millionth time. It’s like I’m explaining it to a child. “I need your help.”

Why is it that we—or better to say, I—need to step in and solve his problems? He’s a grown man who puts himself in this kind of situation over and over again. And every time, it’s more and more dangerous and expensive.

If we let him deal with them just once, I’m positive he will see the truth that’s before him and seek help.

“And as I told you, we can’t help you,” she says, glancing at Dad.

“What’s this about?” he asks as he sits beside me.

“You mean to tell me you don’t know?” Fuck me, this can’t be true.

“Know what?”

“Nothing, dear,” Mom says and pats his hand that’s on the table.

“No, it’s not nothing,” I snap and turn fully to him. “Jim somehow owes a lot of money to some really scary people. My guess would be gambling, but there could be drugs too. With him, who knows.” I throw my hands in the air. “But the really bad part is he told them I would be the one to pay them, one way or another.”

God, it feels good saying this out loud.