Chapter Twenty-Six MAE
Chapter Twenty-Six
MAE
Thanksgiving dawned cold and clear. The frosty ground crunched under my feet as I walked out to my car.
I was meeting my mother for coffee, and the morning felt good.
I felt like things were on track for Rowan and me, and I was almost giddy about it.
I felt as if I were in a little bubble, and it felt almost too good to be true.
A corner of my mind was braced for something to burst.
I hoped maybe, just maybe, we had already done the hard part as far as karma went. At Firehouse Café, while I was waiting for my mom to arrive, I opened up my email. In a mere second, it felt as if I were falling from a great height. My stomach bottomed out, and I felt sick.
So, I heard you told someone what happened.
The email contained a single sentence in the subject line, and it sent me spinning. My skin felt prickly and a sense of panic fisted in my chest. I felt light-headed and saw black dots along the edges of my vision
I knew this feeling well. I'd experienced it way too often during the first few years after it happened.
No, no, no, no!
“Mae?”
My mother's voice broke through the static filling my brain.
My heartbeat was still galloping along. It genuinely felt as if I was in true and literal danger at this very moment.
But when I looked up into her eyes, I managed to take a breath, and the black dots started to recede.
I looked around the familiar café, and Janet's warm laughter reached me where she was talking to a couple at a table nearby.
“Are you okay, honey?” my mother asked after lightly squeezing my shoulder and sitting down across from me.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I managed.
I tried to marshal my composure and paste something like a polite smile on my face, but I couldn't even do that.
I reached for my coffee, and as my hands curled around the mug, I realized they were ice cold.
I took a quick swallow, relieved my mother was distracted as she shrugged her coat off her shoulders, letting it fall over the back of the chair, and put her keys in her purse.
When her eyes lifted again, they skated over my face. “What is it?”
I took another swallow of coffee, the warm liquid sliding through that tight, icy fist around my heart. “Why don't you order first?” I heard myself saying
She looked a little puzzled, but the timing was good because Janet happened to stop at our table just then. “Good morning. Mae’s already got her coffee, but what can I get for you?” she asked my mother.
“I'll just take a house coffee, no cream and no sugar.”
“Do you want anything for breakfast? And what about you, Mae? I think I got distracted after I got your coffee ready,” Janet said with an apologetic smile.
I wasn’t sure I could eat anything, but I figured I might as well try. My stomach felt empty and sick, almost hollow. “I'll take a plain bagel with butter.”
I didn't hear what my mother ordered, but then we were alone, and she looked at me expectantly. Although my timing was terrible, I did something I never thought I would do. I didn't know what I was doing, but I clearly wasn't thinking.
“I never told you this, but someone raped me in college.”
My mother's hand flew to her chest, and she gasped. The hiss of it whistled through her teeth as she snapped her mouth shut. She reached across the table, her hand curling over mine. Her touch was warm, and I was still freezing.
“Mae. I’m so sorry. I wish you’d told me before,” she said simply.
Oddly, I was calm. The immense relief of simply saying the truth aloud was so profound and strange that this part wasn't stressful. “I don’t know why I didn’t.”
After her initial reaction, I could sense my mother was floundering. “Honey, tell me what happened.”
“That's it, that's what happened. It was at a party.” My mother blinked.
“Someone spiked my drink. That's so common they even have a nail polish for women to use now.
I don't go to parties, and I've never accepted a drink from anyone since then,” I said, surprised at how calm my voice sounded.
I felt weird as if I was watching myself do this and not really in my body.
My mother squeezed my hand. “Why didn't you tell me before? I wish I could’ve been there for you.”
The first wave of emotion hit me—a jumble of sadness and anger and shame.
I shrugged. “I don't know. I'm okay.”
“Are you?” she pressed.
“I am.”
“I don't even know what to ask. Should I ask questions?” she finally asked after a long pause.
“If you want. I didn't press charges if you're wondering, I did tell some friends and talked to a therapist about it, but that was it.”
“Do you want to do something about it now?”
I shook my head slowly. “I don't think so. I looked into it. It would be a difficult case because I’d been drinking, and he drugged me. My memories aren’t all that clear.”
My mother flinched and took a shaky breath. Just then, the young man who worked with Janet some mornings arrived with my mother’s coffee. I was relieved it wasn’t Janet. Not because I didn't adore her, but she was way too perceptive. He had a tray full of coffees and plates with food.
“Your food will be out in just a few minutes,” he commented just before he moved away to serve the next table.
My mother finally released my hand and lifted her coffee. After a few swallows, she studied me. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing. I didn't really expect to tell you that, but I guess I just did.” I wasn't ready to tell her what prompted this. That stupid email from Chet. Somehow, he knew I had told someone. Well, fuck Chet.
I might be panicking about it, but I wasn't going to keep his dirty secrets. “It wasn't like it was a secret before. I just didn’t say anything.”
“It breaks my heart that you've carried this alone. I wish I'd known sooner.”
I took a gulp of coffee. “It's okay. I honestly don't want to keep talking about it forever. I know it's a shock, and you're trying to absorb the information.”
My mother nodded slowly. “It is a shock. I want to be there for you. If you don't want to keep talking about it, I understand. Can I ask one more question?”
“Go for it.”
“What do I tell your father?”
“You can tell him.”
I had abruptly decided this wasn't going to be a secret. I wasn't sure why this shift inside me had happened so fast, but here we were.
“Okay. If he wants to talk to you about it, what should I tell him?”
“That I don't have much more to say other than that. I can tell him exactly what I said to you if that would make him feel better.”
My mother sucked in a fast, sharp breath. “Those are all my questions. If you want me to do anything else and support you in any way, please just let me know.”
I could sense she wanted to go into comfort mode, but that wasn’t what I wanted now. She knew me well enough to know that. I didn’t precisely understand why, but I simply wanted the truth out.
“I will.”
As if on cue, our breakfast was delivered to the table, effectively ending that conversation. I was still too unsettled to eat much and mostly picked at my bagel. When we were out in the parking lot, my mother gave me a long hug.
“I love you, Mom,” I said as she stepped back.
“I love you too. I wish I could have been there for you sooner.”
“I know you do. It's okay.”
And it was okay.
After I climbed into my car, I felt another shock wave, like the ripples from a boulder falling in a pond. A wave crashed over me, and panic started spinning again. I couldn't bring myself to open the email.