16. My anger, my peace.
Chapter 16
My anger, my peace.
Christian
A melia fell asleep almost as soon as we left the hotel. Once we hit the highway, she curled up next to me and passed out. I kept her up far later than I should have. After our bath, we had a late-night snuggling in bed and watching movies.
I should have let her sleep. She needs more rest now that she’s growing a human. I may not know much about babies, but it can’t be easy on a woman’s body to be pregnant. The need for more rest seems necessary.
She lets out a soft yawn and stretches her arms over her head. “How long have I been asleep?”
“About an hour.”
“Sorry.” She rubs her eyes and blinks several times. “Didn’t mean to sleep on you.”
“Don’t apologize. You needed the rest.”
The sigh that comes out of her sounds so peaceful that I can’t help but smile. When I look over at her, she looks happy. It pleases me to know that I made her that way. I’ll have to think of other things we can do together that will also put a smile of contentment on her face.
“I talked to the contractor before we left,” I say, hoping this conversation will also make her happy. “They got the framework up. Should have it closed off to the environment within the next week.”
“Really?” She beams at me. “Does that mean we’ll be able to move out there soon?”
“Yep. At that point, it’ll be livable. We still won’t have much space. It’ll be hectic and noisy as fuck. But if you’d like more privacy from my family, we can move next weekend.”
“Oh, my god. Yes!” She claps her hands. “Don’t get me wrong. I love your family, but it’s kinda weird living there.”
“I get it. I find it weird too. Maybe we can—”
My phone rings, cutting me off before I can finish my thoughts. I pick it up and see it’s Chase. I answer it and put it on speaker.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“When are you getting back?” he asks.
“Should be home in thirty or forty minutes.”
“You still coming over to Mom’s for dinner?”
“Fuck.” I run my hand over my face and down my beard. “That’s this Sunday?”
“Yeah, that’s this Sunday.” I can hear how much he’s dreading this just from his tone. “I’m going to head over there soon, but I wanted to make sure you’d be there. You know how much Mom hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” I insist, even though I know it’s a lie. Ever since she lost Dad, Mom has only had eyes for bad men. Chase is too good for her, and she’s never accepted that about him.
“Ha,” he snorts. “No need to lie to me. I know the truth.”
“She just doesn’t understand you,” I say.
“Yeah, whatever. So, are you coming or not?” He quickly changes the subject back to the reason he called, and I’m grateful.
“I’ll be there. Just need to drop Lia off at the house. Then I’ll head to the store. Give me an hour and a half. Will that work?”
“Yep. That’ll be fine. I’ll wait a little longer before I head over then. No need to give Mom more time than necessary to yell at me.”
I laugh. “She sure as fuck can yell.”
“Drive safe, and I’ll see you soon.”
“See ya,” I say right before the line goes dead.
I glance over at Amelia and she’s staring out the window with a distant look on her face. I reach over and take her hand in mine. “You okay?”
She nods. “Is your mom really that mean to Chase?”
I shrug. “I guess. She doesn’t respond well to nice people. They make her nervous. And Chase is definitely the nice one out of the two of us.”
A sadness fills her eyes. “So, she wouldn’t like me.”
I squeeze her hand, regretting the role I played in the way this conversation turned. “Mom doesn’t like anyone.”
“But she likes you?” she asks.
“I wouldn’t say that. She understands me. She understands my demons and my addiction because they’re her demons too. We share a bond. A bad one, but a bond nonetheless.”
She rotates in her seat until she’s facing me. “Can I come with you today? I’d like to meet your mom.”
I tense, and she senses it. I can tell by the way her shoulders sag. “Baby, you do not want to do that. My mom is not a nice person.”
“Surely, she’s not that bad.”
“She is.” I adjust in my seat as I struggle to find the words to explain to her who my mom really is. “Plus, she’s not clean. She’s never stopped using.”
“Christian.” Amelia squeezes my hand and runs her other hand up my forearm. “I won’t judge you for who your mom is.”
“I know,” I insist, but it sounds weak even to me. I worry everyone will judge me because of who my mom is. I love her in my own way, but she’s a horrible person. “You have to understand. She won’t be happy that I’m seeing you.”
“Because of the feud?”
“No, because of me.” I search for the right words to explain how she behaves. “She won’t like that you’re with me .”
“That makes no sense.” She furrows her brow and frowns. “Doesn’t she want you to be happy?”
“No. She’s the perfect example of misery loves company. It’s why she doesn’t like Chase. He’s too happy.”
“And I’m a generally happy person too. So there’s no way she’ll like me either.”
“Not exactly. If she sees that you make me happy, that will piss her off. She doesn’t want me to be happy any more than she wants happiness for herself. She loves drama and the general shitty life she’s made for herself. If she can’t drag you down to her level, then she’s got no use for you. I don’t want to expose you to that.”
“It’s okay. I can handle your mom.”
“I know you can.” I lift her hand to my lips and press a kiss to her fingers.
“Then let me meet her.” She sounds so innocent in her request. My mom will despise her for that. “Please.”
“My mom is a mess. You don’t really want to meet her.”
“Yes, I do.”
I meet her gaze, and the pleading look in her eyes causes me to falter. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t give this woman if she looks at me like that. “Okay. Let me tell Mom about you and the baby first. Then we’ll plan a Sunday to take you over to introduce you to her. Deal?”
She gives me a huge smile and bounces in her seat. From how happy she looks, you’d think I told her she won a million dollars. “Thank you! This means a lot to me.”
I reach over and cup her chin, then pull her lips to mine for a quick kiss. “Anything for you, angel. Anything.”
And I mean that. Whatever it takes to make her happy, I’ll fight to get it for her. Without question.
To my surprise, Mom’s apartment is quiet when I arrive with the groceries. The lights are on and considering how clean the place looks, Chase is definitely here.
“Hello?” I call out.
“In here.” Chase’s voice comes from the direction of the kitchen. When I walk in, he’s standing at the entrance to the laundry room, sorting Mom’s dirty clothes. The pile is so high, every article of clothing she owns must be dirty.
“Where’s Mom?” I ask as I set the groceries on the counter.
“Shower.” He continues tossing clothes into different piles. “She’s being really quiet today. I’m worried.”
I glance over my shoulder. He’s tense and his expression confirms his declaration. His face is etched with worry. “The harder stuff is killing her.”
He furrows his brow and scans my face. He’s not just worried about her. He’s worried about me too. In the past, when she fell, I fell with her.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll never go back to that life. Not now.”
“You can’t blame me for asking.”
“I know.” I nod toward the front door. “I’m going to get the rest of the groceries.”
“Need help?” He calls after me.
“Nah. Looks like you’ve got your hands full as it is.”
“These clothes are gross, bro.” I hear him coughing, followed by a gagging sound just before I exit the apartment. Those clothes must smell terrible for him to react that way. Chase typically has a strong stomach and can handle Mom’s messes.
I grab the last of the groceries and head back inside. When I make it back, he’s stuffing the first load into the washing machine.
“How many loads are there?” I ask. There are so many piles it’s hard to walk around them.
“Fuck if I know.” He grumbles and rushes to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “This is the worst they’ve been. I don’t know how she gets them this dirty.”
“Drugs will fuck you up to the point you don’t even notice.” I study the piles, surprised by how much there is. “Didn’t we do laundry last month?”
“Yeah.” He grabs the package of paper towels I bought and opens it so he can dry his hands. “But there were probably half this amount.”
I scratch my chin as I walk up to one of the piles and kick it with my foot. “I don’t think these are all her clothes. She doesn’t even own this much.”
“Man, I don’t know. All I know is it’s gross.” He grabs a bag of groceries and starts unpacking it. “What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Burgers and fries. I figured that’d be easy since I got here so late.”
“Sounds good.” When he pulls the patties out of a bag, he sets them on the counter. “I already washed all the dishes. While the clothes seem to have multiplied, there were hardly any dirty dishes. I’m not sure she’s eating.”
“Is the food I bought last month gone?”
“I think so, but I’m not convinced she’s the one eating it. She’s lost a lot of weight.”
“Well, at least we can make sure she eats tonight.” I grab the skillet out of the cabinet and set it on the stove. Then I dig around for the baking sheet I got her a couple of months ago to replace the last one that went missing.
So many of the dishes we buy her vanish over time. She swears she has no idea where they go. It doesn’t matter. As long as Mom keeps the company that frequently visits her, she’s never going to get better.
I stop after I find the baking sheet and stare at my brother. “Maybe we should start coming more often. Once a month isn’t enough.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” His jaw drops and he looks at me in disbelief. “I can barely handle once a month, Chris.”
I glare at him for using the nickname that I rarely hear anymore. He only uses that when he’s mad at me because he knows I hate it. Chris was the drug addict punk who didn’t care whether he lived or died. When I came out of rehab the first time, I decided I’d never be called Chris again.
“Don’t call me that.” I don’t yell, but the tone of my voice indicates I’m not happy he used it.
Remorse instantly takes over his expression. “I’m sorry, bro. It’s just … well, you know how much I hate coming here.”
“I know, but we’re all she’s got.”
He sighs and glances around the apartment. Even though he’s cleaned it from top to bottom, it’s still a shithole. “I don’t know how much longer she can live like this.”
“I know, but we have to try. Especially now that I have a baby on the way.”
He furrows his brow. “You’re not considering letting Mom meet the baby after it’s born, are you?”
I shrug. “Depends on her. But Lia wants to meet her.”
“Dude, you can’t be serious.” Chase looks at me like I lost my mind. “She isn’t like us. Mom will traumatize her.”
“Who will I traumatize?” Mom stares at me like she doesn’t really see me. She’s completely strung out.
“Hey Mom.” I wave at her and pick up the package of hamburger buns. “We’re here to cook you dinner.”
She blinks a few times before she looks at Chase and then back at me. Then a huge smile covers her face. “Christian, my boy. You came to see me.”
She takes a step toward me like she’s going to hug me but then stops and alters her course. She sits in a chair and rests her head on the table instead.
I rush toward her and lift her face so I can take a better look at her. “Fuck, Mom. How much did you take?”
“What are you talking about?” She frowns. “I didn’t take anything.”
“Mom.” Chase sighs. “I found you with the needle still stuck in your arm.”
When she looks at Chase, her frown turns to an outright scowl. “Don’t you lie to my boy. You don’t know shit.”
“Sure, Mom.” He shakes his head and continues to put the rest of the groceries away.
I step back and inspect her more closely. She’s so skinny. I bet she weighs next to nothing. “You stay here while we cook.”
She nods but her eyes have already turned listless. She’s in bad shape. Too many more hits like this and she might not recover.
I head to the counter where Chase is watching Mom with disgust. “Maybe you’re right. I can’t introduce Lia to that.”
“Of course, I’m right.” He stares at me like he thinks I’m crazy. “And you can forget about letting her anywhere near that baby. I won’t allow her to touch it.”
“What baby?” When we look over at Mom she’s staring at us with a confused expression on her face. “Who’s having a baby?”
My shoulders sag and I let out a deep breath. “I am Mom. My girlfriend is pregnant.”
Her mouth falls open and tears well up in her eyes. “You can’t!” she cries.
“Too late. It’s happening.” I grab the pack of beef patties and rip it open. I need to keep busy if I’m going to survive this conversation.
“No!” she yells and slams her palm onto the table. “You’re in no shape to have a baby.”
“Mom!” Chase scolds. “Christian will be a great dad.”
She shakes her head. “No, no, no. This can’t happen. I need you with me.”
“Mom, I’m here.” I walk over to her and kneel next to her seat. “I won’t leave you because I have a baby.”
She stares at me, and I can’t tell if she’s sad or angry. Either way, there are tears filling her eyes.
“You already left me.” Then she lifts her hand and slaps me across the face.
“Mom!” I block her hand when she tries to slap me again. “Calm down.”
“You can’t do this to me.” She screams. “You’re the only one I have and now I’m going to lose you too.”
“You haven’t lost me.” I grab both of her arms to hold her still. She’s erratic and out of control. “I’m right here.”
“Then get high with me.” She frantically looks around the kitchen. “Where’s my bag? I have enough for at least two good hits.”
“Mom!” I release her and push to my feet. I take several steps back and stare at her in disbelief. “I’m never getting high again.”
She snaps her eyes in my direction. “Then get the fuck out of my sight. You’re no good to me otherwise.”
Chase steps up behind me and squeezes my shoulder. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying, bro.”
“I know.” I sigh and shake my head. “I need to get out of here for a minute. You got this?”
“Yeah. Go take a breather.”
He pats me on the back as I leave the kitchen. Once I’m outside, I dig my cigarettes out of my pocket. I tap the top until one slides out. I stare at it for several seconds, debating on whether or not I should smoke it.
What I should do is quit. I’ve got a baby on the way and that baby doesn’t need to be exposed to this shit.
But my craving is strong. And at this moment, it’s stronger than my will power.
“Fuck it.” I wrap my lips around the butt and light it up. I’ll worry about quitting tomorrow when my dumbass mom doesn’t have me stressed out.
Because I need this cigarette if I’m going to go back inside and face her again.