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The doctor stands as Mom approaches. She’s wearing gray sweats, a navy top, and a beige shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She smiles tentatively at me and I can tell she’s sober. I can see it in the way she’s really looking at me and actually seeing me, like she’s here in the room and not floating off somewhere else either stoned out of her mind or itching herself and waiting for her next chance to get high.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” the doctor says and walks off as I stand go give my mom a hug.
She feels bony and thin. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other—she disappeared from the house about six months ago and called maybe twice in all that time before getting arrested and ending up here. She looks older, rougher, more beat up, and I wonder what she’s been doing with herself and decide I really don’t want to know.
That’s how it always is with my mom—she has an entire life without me, an entire world filled with pain that I’ll never know or understand, and I don’t want to see it. My mom is still my mom, even if she has a disease that takes her from me.
“Sweetie,” she says, and I feel all the love I’ve been missing from my life come flowing out of her in that one word. Mom’s an addict and a junkie and a mess, but she hasalwaysloved me in her own way. I never questioned that even when she was at her lowest. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I missed you too, Mom. Are they treating you okay here?”
“I’m fine, sweetie, I’m fine. I’m more worried about you.” She laughs and steers me to sit down at the table again. I blink tears from my eyes and Mom brushes my hair back from my face. “I know living with those sharks hasn’t been easy on you. I keep saying you need to move out.”
“I can’t, and I don’t want to fight about this again,” I say and try not to let myself get annoyed. We’ve had this discussion a thousand times: I’m stuck living at the main house so long as Grandfather controls all my finances, and I don’t see him relinquishing my trust anytime soon. It was structured such that I’d control it myself when I turned thirty, and not a second before, and that’s unique in the family—everyone else got theirs at eighteen. But I can thank my mother for my situation. Grandfather said it was for my own good and a way to keep Momfrom getting her hands on what’s mine. I suspect it’s more of a way to control me too, but I never say that out loud.
“You’re right, you’re right, I don’t want to fight either. So, tell me everything that’s been going on in your life since I last saw you. How long has it been? Three months?”
“Six,” I say gently and try not to let it hurt my heart when her face shows nothing. Her sense of time is always a mess when she’s deep in the junk and she probably doesn’t remember half the time she’s been gone. “But life’s been good,” I say and push myself forward. I talk about my friends and work, and I can feel the Ford subject beginning to bubble up inside of me, since that’s really the only thing I want to talk about these days. Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “And recently Grandfather’s been trying to find a husband for me but I think I’m going to marry Ford Arc instead.”
Mom’s jaw drops open and she doesn’t say anything for several long moments as that statement sinks in. I’m not sure she knows who Ford is but she definitely knows that last name. I shift uncomfortably as I wait for her reaction, and I could’ve probably been a little more diplomatic about that revelation, but this felt like the sort of thing that needed to be ripped out of me like tearing a band-aid off a hairy arm. I got it over with and now it’s out there, and Mom’s looking at me like she thinks I might be joking. I don’t want to have to tell her it’s very serious.
But slowly, she says, “Why’s my father trying to find a husband for you?”
I clear my throat. “I just told you I might marry Ford Arc andthat’swhat you ask?”
She shrugs. “I’m taking it one thing at a time. That’s what the therapists keep telling me in here, one day at a time. See, sweetie, I’m learning.”
“Grandfather thinks I’ve been single and useless for long enough.” Mom scowls and shakes her head. I say quickly, “He didn’t approach it that way, but you know how he is.”
“Typical of my father. If you’re not doing something to glorify the all-powerful and almighty Stockton family, you’re worthless. There’s no intrinsic importance to anyone, only whatever we bring to the country club. It’s nice to hear he hasn’t changed, except it’s also not.”
“He hasn’t and that means I need to keep him happy if I’m going to have him pay for all your bills.” I regret it as soon as the words are out. Mom grimaces like I’ve kicked her in the stomach, and she looks away toward the pools. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry, Mom, it’s not like that, it’s only—”
“Stop,” she says and holds a hand up. “Don’t. I’m acutely aware of why I’m here right now. Your grandfather controls our finances and he has never let me forget it. I can handle the truth.”
“I know, but that wasn’t very nice. I don’t blame you for any of this, I’m just saying, Grandfather’s at the point where we’re running out of grace. Letting him pick my husband might—” I shrug a little. “Although I think I’m going to screw that up.”
“Look, sweetie. I love you, but you know how I feel about your grandfather. Things are just—” She struggles for the word and settles on, “Complicated.”
Which is an understatement. Mom and Grandfather have always had a fraught relationship. Grandfather said they were so closewhen she was younger to the point where they’d spend days and weeks together, sometimes leaving the family to go on long fishing trips, but mostly spending quiet afternoons in the library reading and listening to music and talking. She was the clear favorite up until she turned twenty and discovered drugs. After that, Mom slowly drifted away from him, met my father, get pregnant, had me, went through all sorts of mistakes and relapses, and broke Grandfather’s heart over and over again. A lot of resentment and bitterness is baked into their relationship at this point, and I don’t know how to untangle it all or if I even could. Grandfather loves Mom, but he’s also tired of hurting and tired of watching his favorite girl fail over and over again.
And I think Mom still loves him too in her heart, but she also hates him and resents the way he controls the family. She never fit in with the Stocktons and their upper-class privilege in the same way I don’t and I think that always bothered Grandfather. But apparently, he thought she was funny and clever and he loved her free spirit, which is why he’s been so protective of her for all these years. He could’ve cut her off sooner, and there are half a dozen times I thought he might, but instead he always came back for her and always came through.
Now though, I don’t know. Mom seems so broken and sad, and Grandfather doesn’t talk about her with the same spark that he used to, and I don’t know how I can possibly fix whatever snapped between them. If it evencanbe fixed.
I tell her, “The truth is, Grandfather wants me to marry someone useful to the family, and I don’t even blame him.” I hold my hand up when Mom tries to interrupt. “But I realized something. Grandfather’s always going to have control of us if I go through with this. My whole life will be spent doing whatever he wants, and when he dies, I’ll be stuck doing whatever the new headof the family wants. It’ll never be about me, never, ever, ever. Which is why I might marry Ford.”
Mom blinks at that and tilts her head. “You’re saying youwantto marry Ford? Have you two been dating?”
“No, I barely even know him.”
“And yet?” She sounds totally mystified. “This is what… you… want?”
“Yes. But not because I love Ford. Or because I even like him all that much. But mostly because he wants to marry me for his own reasons, and I can use him to take care of you and get a little independence for myself. I won’t be reliant on Grandfather anymore. I won’t even need the family.”
“Honey, wait, hold on. You don’t need to marry anyone just to take care of me. I’m fine, I can—” She stops there and the silence is almost painful since we both know whatever she’s about to say isn’t true. Mom would be dead a dozen times over, thrown in jail, beat up on the side of the road, homeless and abandoned and rotting if it weren’t for Grandfather. “I don’t want you to marry Ford if it’s only for my sake,” she says softly.
“It’s not just about you. It’s also about making my own choices and being my own person for once. And the look on Grandfather’s face when he finds out I’m marrying a guy from thedreadedArc family.”
