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“Never!” her shrill cry rang out in the otherwise empty room.
“Then what, Mom?”
“I had no money and nothing of my own, other than you boys, and he would have taken you both from me in a second if I didn’t comply with every order he issued,” she hisses ever word through gritted teeth, the reality of her words heavier than I ever imagined.
“He… he threatened to take us away?” I ask, never thinking he would have gone so far as to separate our family.
“He would have kicked me out. Forbade me from seeing you ever again. When I brought up the topic of his image, he said that with his poor sickly wife having to be institutionalized, he would garner only pity from the public, and pity was much better than the shame he said I caused him.”
I sit there, completely dumbfounded. My mom was never sick when I was growing up, but to know that he wouldn’t have had any qualms about lying like that to save face… I always thought he was an asshole, but to hear these things from my mother, it paints him in a completely different light. One I wasn’t prepared for.
“Not only that, but he swore to stop caring for Nana and Pops,” she continues.
“Yeah, I knew that part,” I say, still trying to digest everything.
“I couldn’t risk losing my babies and having my parents on the streets. I didn’t think I had any other choice. You know your father. You know how he is. Bodhi, please… please forgive me,” her cries turn into inconsolable sobbing, and I stand from my place on the couch and move around the table separating us to kneel down in front of her.
“Mom, please don’t cry,” I say, pulling her to my chest, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
I guess in all of this, over the course of the last twenty-three years, I never stopped once to consider that maybe she was just as much a victim to his actions as I was.
As I hold her, I understand now the weight she carried around all of these years. It's heartbreaking to think that my mother had to endure such a life, raising me and my brother, all while being trapped in a loveless marriage. Being threatened and mistreated, unable to be with the person who clearly loved her.
Rob.
I know that he still feels some of that love for her, too. Even though he and Aunt Cynthia were married and had Madelyn. Since her passing last fall, I can see how lonely he’s been.
It’s a long shot, and maybe even out of the question after all of these years, but I wonder if they might still have a chance at a happy ending.
She deserves that. They both do after the hell my dad has put them through.
"I don't know if I can forgive him, Mom," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I can forgive you."
She looks up at me, her eyes red and puffy from crying, and she gives me a weak smile.
“Really?”
“Yeah, Mom, really. I understand now why you did what you did. And I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner. I want us to be able to heal from this and move on.”
"Thank you, Bodhi," she says, wiping away a tear. "I know I don't deserve it, but thank you."
“There’s another reason I came here today,” I say, taking a deep, steadying breath.
“What is it?” she asks, understandably hesitant.
“I’m quitting Kane’s Racing,” I say, fast and to the point like ripping off a band-aid.
“What? But Bodhi—”
“I can’t do it anymore, Mom. I’ll never live up to whatever expectation he has for me. I’ll never deserve to sit behind the wheel of that car. I will never be able to replace Tommy, and he hates me for that,” I say, a swell of emotion getting stuck in my throat.
“Oh, baby,” my mom says, reaching out and cupping my cheek.
“It’s okay. I get it, but I can’t continue to listen to him berate me for shit that is out of my control. I’m not happy, Mom. I haven’t been for a long time.”
I sniffle, blinking back the sting of tears.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” she asks, and on some level, I think she knows that fighting with me about it won’t get either of us anywhere.
