Bronx was uncomfortable, wriggling his hands and clenching and unclenching his fists. "What made you come back? Now, I mean?"
“I’m trying to make amends,” Mom said sadly. I huffed in response. “I know I’ve made so many mistakes when it comes to you boys. I can’t go back in time and change what I did, but I can make things right for the future.”
“Where have you been this whole time?”
Mom hesitated and Tate squeezed her hand on the table, encouraging her to continue. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest.
“I went to Oregon to live with my aunt. She was sick, so I took care of her for a few years. Once she passed, I kind of–spiraled. I was on drugs for a while,” Mom shook her head as if embarrassed by the admission. “I’d always had a problem with pills from back when you two were born, but it got out of control. And then I met Tate five years ago. He helped me and paid for an intensive inpatient program in California. He saved me.” Tate smiled at Mom like she was the moon to his stars or some shit. He must really love her to deal with her–drug-addicted, older than him, no money to her name.
“You should’ve come home. We could have helped you,” Bronx said, his eyes full of emotion.
“You couldn’t have helped me, Bronx. I was a mess. I needed professional help. I needed it long before you two were born. They helped me with the addiction and my depression. Now that I’m in a better place, I’m ready to be in your lives again. I won’t mess it up this time.”
I gritted my teeth and did my best to keep my mouth shut. I had so much to say about her little story–whether it was true or not, who knows–but I didn’t want to make a scene when Bronx was about to lose it.
"We've been doing a lot of thinking." Mom glanced at her husband and back to us. "And we want you boys to be involved in our lives in California."
I scoffed as I pulled my phone out, pretending to read something important.
"We think you'd love it," she continued. "There's surfing and hiking, and the weather's beautiful. It's not as hot and dry as it is here. We live in Malibu, right on the beach. Plus, we'd love for you to meet your sisters."
I dropped my phone on the table. Both Mom and Tate had smiles on their faces like we were supposed to be happy to hear the news that she had a second family after ditching us.
"You have more kids," Bronx said quietly.
"Two girls. Four and two. Lily and Ava," Tate said proudly.
Mom looked at me with sadness in her eyes, like she thought she could explain herself.
"Sounds like you got what you wanted," I said. "You always told me you wanted to give me a little sister."
"West," Mom said as I stood from the table. I turned to Bronx as I pushed my chair in.
"I'll wait for you outside. I can't sit through this shit." I stalked through the restaurant and made my way to the parking lot. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it with my Zippo, breathing it in and letting the nicotine take the edge off. As I leaned up against the hood of my car, puffing away, I wondered what my life would be like if Mom never left. What I would be like.
I bet I wouldn't be such a pussy when it came to relationships. I bet I would treat women better than I have been.
My mind wouldn't shut off. I kept thinking about Mom, how different she looked, how much she'd changed. Gone was the simple woman who would play Legos with me, with her brown hair that was always a little messy, and her normal looking face. Now she was blonde, poised, perfect, plastic, fake. Rich. Married to a guy much younger than her with two toddlers. Two girls. Her perfect family.
Why couldn't her perfect family include her sons? Bronx and I weren't the best kids, but we loved her so damn much. Couldn't she see that? Didn't she know that when she left? I could understand wanting to divorce Dad, but to leave and never look back was harsh. Bronx wanted to be involved with her now. He always craved her approval and attention. He would do anything for it, even forgive her for what she did. He would fit in too. I bet our sisters would love him. Call him Bubba like I used to. I wouldn't though. I couldn't. There was no going back from being abandoned by her, no matter how much money she threw at us or how nice her husband was. It wasn't happening.
I couldn't stand it anymore. Lighting another cigarette, I sent a text to Axel and Cade.
Me: Axel, you're throwing a party tonight. I don't care if your dad gets pissed.
Cade: Co-sign.
Axel: You don't have to tell me twice! I'm on it.
I needed a night to unwind and forget about everything going on. To forget about my unrequited feelings for Ashtyn. To forget about Mom's guilty conscience which came ten years too late. To forget about everything.
32
Ashtyn
Ihadn’theardfromWest in a while. The night before was the first night I’d spent at my house in over a week. Bronx called and told me he would be picking me up from work, but I refused and got an Uber instead.
Whatever was going on with West didn’t come as a surprise to me. That didn’t make it hurt any less.