We walk with Luna between us, lifting her off the ground every few steps. Her squeals would normally make my heart sing but not now. That call from Mom has blackened my mood.
How long is she planning on staying? What happened with her boyfriend, the one she left LA with? I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Nothing good happens when she’s around.
Selfishly, I’m glad that I moved out. I feel so sorry for Vanessa. We stay in the park for another half an hour and then we drive back home. I prepare dinner while Ace minds Luna. I’m glad for the alone time. I need it to calm my mind.
Mom said she wanted to see Luna. I feel like a complete jerk, but I don’t want to expose my sweet innocent Luna to my mother. There’s nothing whatsoever for my daughter to gain by knowing her grandmother. She wasn’t mother material and she’s definitely not grandmother material.
Our routine keeps me grounded and moving throughout the evening. There’s Luna to feed, bathe, then Ace and I have dinner and finally, it’s bedtime.
Ace is already in bed when I finish in the bathroom. He flaps the covers open and I slip in. He pulls me close. He caresses my head and smooths back my hair. The tension in my body slowly dissipates.
“You’re not okay, are you?” Ace says.
Denying it is insulting him. “No.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he says softly.
“My mom called me,” I tell him.
“How did that go?” Ace says.
“Not good. She’s back in LA and at the house.”
“Isn’t Vanessa staying there with her boyfriend?” Ace asks.
“Yeah.”
“It’s going to be awkward, but maybe she won’t stay for long,” Ace says.
I can’t even say I hope so. I tell Ace this is not the first or second time we’ve been down this road. Mom disappears for a couple of years, comes back home, and stays sober for a few weeks and then the downward spiral begins.
“Maybe she has changed. People do.”
“I don’t care whether she changes or not, I just want her out of our lives,” I say fiercely.
I can tell that Ace is a little shaken by my words. It’s a cold thing to say.
“Vanessa and I grew up differently. Where other children had their moms and dads, I was Vanessa’s little mom. I took care of her. Everything. I bathed her, cooked for her, and slept with her by my side.”
“How old were you?”
“I remember stuff from when I was about six years old. I didn’t have friends in school and the teachers didn’t like me either because I stank. It was years before I learned how to take care of myself properly.” My voice shakes with emotion.
Ace’s hold tightens.
Words tumble out of my mouth. Things I have never told another human being. Even Vanessa. She remembers some of them and some she doesn’t.
Vanessa’s crib was next to my bed. When she woke up at night, I was the one who soothed her back to sleep. There were many nights we slept without eating, especially when a social worker was expected the following day. There was a top shelf in the kitchen that always had food. It was too high for me to reach and she had forbidden us from ever taking that food. The food stayed there on display for the social worker to see. When the pangs became unbearable, I would stand in the kitchen salivating at the cans of baked beans, packets of pasta, and other canned goodies.
But the worst was not the hunger or the everyday uncertainty. It was the men she brought home. All were rough and mean looking. Vanessa and I hid in our room whenever she brought a man home.
The nightmare started at night. We’d hear mom screaming, and shouting names and I’d be sure that she would be dead by morning. Of course, she wasn’t dying but to a child, her cries of ecstasy were cries of pain. I don’t tell Ace this bit. It’s too shameful.
“All that was caused by alcohol,” I repeat the words that Vanessa says to excuse Mom’s behavior. Words I do not believe.
It’s odd that I ended up working in a bar, but it suited me for a couple of reasons. I didn’t get a college education which meant that my job options were limited. I already had a foot in the industry. Mom’s drinking meant that I was familiar with a lot of brands. I cleaned up after her and her friends and I liked to practice by reading aloud the names of the beer and bottles of alcohol. I don’t mind the odd drink but it’s always on my mind that I should be careful because I carry Mom’s genes.
But when I got Luna, I knew without a doubt that I would never do to her what Mom did to Vanessa and me.