Chapter Twenty-One
Karen finally ran out of words after ten in the evening.
Miley had tapped out at eight thirty, insisting that she needed a good night’s sleep to get through her shift the next day.
Which was complete and utter bullshit, but Luna didn’t try and stop her friend. Dealing with Karen was exhausting. A constant dodge and weave of not saying something that would put her on the defensive.
Luna took a few minutes to sit in complete silence once she retired to her empty room.
She slowly moved through her evening routine and then checked the hallway to see if the door to where her mother was sleeping was closed.
Once she was certain her mother couldn’t hear her, Luna isolated herself and dialed Nate’s number.
“Hey,” he said, answering the phone.
“Hi.” She knew her exhausted hello would be riddled with questions.
“You sound tired.”
“You have no idea.” Luna pulled back the covers on her bed and stacked pillows up so she could get comfortable.
“I called Ash.”
“I know. Miley talked to him.”
“I hope you don’t mind. You didn’t look happy when I left,” he said.
Luna snuggled into bed, pulled the blankets up to her waist. “It’s okay. I’m sure Ash gave you an earful about our mom.”
“Not as much as I would have liked. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes . . . no.” Luna pinched the bridge of her nose. “My head feels like it’s in a vise. She’s exhausting, Nate. My guard goes up the second she walks in the room. As much as I try and shut it down, she’s right there to remind me why it’s up.” Luna paused.
Nate was quiet for a second. “I’m listening.”
Luna winced. “Are you sure you want to hear this? Family drama doesn’t come into relationships until at least month six. Three if that family lived next door.”
Hearing Nate’s soft laugh reminded her that he was turning out to be one of the good ones. And outside of her brother, Luna didn’t know many “good ones.”
“I’ve slept in your house twice, and that’s before I had the privilege of kissing you. I think we’re past the six-month mark in terms of quality time together.”
The warmth of his words lifted her spirits, if only a fraction.
“Okay, Mr. Therapist, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” And if this freaks you out, I’m better off knowing now.
“My mom wasn’t a mom,” Luna started. “Yeah, she gave birth to all of us. And occasionally we had some good times. But for as long as I can remember, I felt like the mother. You hear about kids that grew up in the ’80s that came home from school with a house key and knowledge that at some point in the day a parent would be home.
That was us, only at a time when every other parent knew where their kids were.
My mom’s career path is bartending and waiting tables.
Fine, except you can’t feed your kids on that.
Forget having your own home. Not without another income.
This was something I was cognizant of from the time I was in second grade.
I was one hundred percent aware of the fact that my mother was staying in shitty marriages and relationships because she believed that was the only way to support us. ”
“Was it?” Nate asked.
Luna thought on that for a second. “Probably. At times. Except for brief glimpses of my mom living on her own. Or with the help of Nana, things felt good. We didn’t have the temper of her latest husband or boyfriend threatening .
. . us. I’ve tried so many times to put myself in her shoes.
Raising three kids without so much as a high school diploma. No support from our fathers.”
“Why was that? Why didn’t any of your fathers step up?” Nate asked.
“She didn’t make them. Bottom line. She got out of her marriages as quickly as she went into them. There was a court judgment for my father to pay child support, she didn’t make him. ‘I don’t need his money.’ It was all personal to her. Like her ego mattered more than our hunger. Our safety.”
Luna lost herself in the memory of the fast-food joint she worked at in high school. “Do you know what I did with my first paycheck once I had a real job?”
“I’m afraid to ask.” Nate’s voice was soft.
“A dentist.” Luna laughed . . . a sad, pathetic laugh at the memory. “I was sixteen and had an abscess on a molar. And while my friends were spending their weekend burger-flipping money on designer jeans that their parents thought were excessive, I was giving my paycheck to a dentist.”
“You’re serious.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“I’m sure she qualified for government assistance,” Nate concluded aloud.
“She did. And occasionally we were on it. But instead of using that along with whatever she was making in her job to better our lives, she was buying cigarettes and liquor. I can forgive all of that . . . I can. It had to be hard. But as I grew up and became more aware of her life choices, I realized how much they screwed us up. Bars close at two a.m. When she was in between husbands she’d bring random men home.
I’d wake up and find some creep staring at me while my mom went out to buy bacon to make him breakfast.” Luna was on autopilot now.
The memories flooded in with an acute level of detachment.
The kind that kept her safe and emotionally distant from her history.
“Damn. Did they . . .”
Nate didn’t finish his question, and Luna didn’t need to hear it to know what it was.
“Some just looked. Some were decent enough to feel awkward that they were left in a house with a teenage girl that didn’t think she needed to leave her bedroom clothed as if she was walking out into the snow.
Others were inappropriate. There was a lock on the bathroom door. I used it . . . a lot.”
Nate was silent on the other end of the line, but Luna was too far in to not mention the deepest hurt.
“And then there was Paul. He was with her the longest.” As emotionally detached as Luna wanted to be, tears threatened.
“He was a mean man. But he had a steady job, and with him, Mom didn’t drink as much.
There was food on the table and the tiniest sense of normal.
But then the peace in the house would shatter at midnight and us kids would be dragged out of bed to find out who ate the last of the ice cream and left the empty container in the freezer.
Our punishment was never a scolding. It was naked backsides and belts.
Fists if we so much as looked at him wrong.
” Luna felt herself shaking. The way Paul had peered at her with her nightgown pulled up and her floral panties down at her ankles.
It didn’t matter how many lashes she took.
The shame of his stare was a punishment that would never go away.
“Fuck . . . fuck.”
“He made the guys from the bars look tame. So yeah . . . when my mother comes to town it’s really hard to be in the same room with her.” Luna stopped talking. Tiny details of more and more stories picked away at the edges of her brain.
“I can be at your door in ten minutes. Say the word and I will.”
Emotion clogged the back of her throat. Luna looked at the ceiling and held in her cry. “I appreciate that,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
She wasn’t.
“I got out of it. We all did.”
“The odds of that, statistically . . .”
“I know,” Luna said. “I’m about the math, remember?”
She heard Nate fake a laugh. Even over the phone, she knew the sound was forced and not meant.
“Harper beat the odds because she moved in with Nana early on. She didn’t live with Paul for long.
Then Ash and I dealt with the brunt of Mom’s choices.
Paul was quick to punch on Ash. Ash ran away and came back several times.
Mom would leave Paul; Ash would move home.
She’d get back together with Paul, Ash would leave.
But I couldn’t leave.” The guilt her mother put on her for even suggesting it at the time still sat in the far reaches of Luna’s memories.
“If you leave, too, I’ll have nothing to live for.
” The implication of her mother taking her own life kept Luna exactly where she was.
“It was all a vicious cycle. It’s why Nana left the house to us and not her. No matter what was going on in our lives, this place has always been the safe home we were led to.”
“I understand that now,” Nate said on a sigh.
Luna felt emotionally purged. As difficult as it was to tell all of that to Nate, hearing her own reasoning for the feelings she had toward her mother felt justified.
“I wish I was there with you,” Nate said.
“Because this sounds like a party?” Luna attempted to lighten the conversation.
“No. Because I can’t do a damn thing about your past, but I can be here for you now.”
Luna didn’t know what to do with that. Landon had brushed over Luna’s past before she even had a chance to tell him everything. He didn’t want to know about her “baggage” because she was with him now.
Part of her wanted to lean into Nate. The other, louder part said she needed to deal with this on her own.
“Is it safe to assume you didn’t pick up your car today?” Nate asked.
She chuckled. “Sure, between reminding my mother that we don’t smoke in the house and navigating the minefield of emotions that come with her visits, I broke away and bought a car.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry that sounded bitchy and directed at you.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“I do if I take something out on you when it’s not your fault. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” Something that should be filled with joy suddenly felt like a chore.
“Miley works tomorrow, right?” Nate asked.
“Yeah.”
“How are you getting to the dealership?”
“Uber.”
“Let me be your Uber,” he suggested.
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he said. “I want to see you, hug you, and let you know I’m here.”
Depending on a man for this kind of emotional support was a slippery slope Luna didn’t want to fall prey to. She shouldn’t have unloaded all of this on him.
She should have gone to bed with only a good night text.