Chapter 26
The Bachelor was having an existential crisis. One of his top contenders was racist, and now he was questioning everything.
“So what if she posted something five years ago?” My mom sprayed water on a ribbon of hair, carefully wrapping it around a roller.
“Yeah, but it’s on the internet.”
The camera closed in on the Bachelor’s face while he pressed a cloth to his eyes. He was so excited for this journey, but now he was wondering whether she was here for the right reasons.
“These people have no respect for the reality of marriage, turning it into a silly game show.” I wanted to say, Why are you watching it then? Her phone buzzed. She grabbed it off the sofa arm, typing deliberately with one finger.
“Ew, who are you texting like that?”
She shot me a look. “Mind your business, little girl.”
I turned back to the TV while she texted, an adolescent grin on her face. No one had said anything else about the gun. It was still in the house as far as I knew. The altercation, just another loose nail my mom curtly swept under the rug with a tight smile.
When the episode ended, I asked, “Why did you take Daddy back after he ruined your garden?”
“What’s this about?”
“I’m curious.”
“Curiosity killed the girl named Cat.” I could tell this tickled her.
“Why won’t you talk about it?”
“Catherine, that was twenty years ago. I don’t remember.”
“You always say you don’t remember when you don’t want to talk about something.”
Exhaling loudly, she removed her feet from the ottoman and set them on the floor. “Your grandmother didn’t think my leaving would be a good idea.”
“It wasn’t for love?”
She frowned. “I didn’t say that. There’s just other things I considered.”
“Did you love anyone before him?”
Her face didn’t change. “That’s personal.”
“So?”
“So, that’s for me.”
“Has Daddy ever loved anyone else?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“Would you be upset if he did?”
She placed her comb and spray bottle in her bag. “I didn’t sign up to be interviewed.”
“I’m just trying to understand you.”
“If you want to understand me, ask me about something other than your father,” she snapped.
Our eyes met. She seemed to intuit my embarrassment.
“I had a time in college.” She chuckled. “I can’t tell you about that.”
“I wanna know!”
“I was a good student, but I could also party. I was a disco queen at the skating rink.”
“Please tell me you have pictures.”
A wide smile split across her face. “I think there’s one somewhere.”
She went upstairs, returning with a Ziploc bag of papers and pictures. She passed me a letter from 1989. “This is from your crazy aunt.” Auntie Lisa had caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman and recruited my mom for a prank.
“Mom! You didn’t!”
She let loose a wild laugh, her head dropping against the sofa. “We filled that poor boy’s car with so many condoms I bet there’s still some in there to this day.”
I picked up a Polaroid of her in pink leggings, white scuffed-up skates. “How old were you here?”
She took the picture from me, squinting. “This was my senior year of college. Wasn’t I cute?”
“We look alike.”
Her smile grew. “We do, don’t we?”
I found a more recent picture of her from the early 2000s in a navy pencil skirt and satin blouse, smiling before the HUD building. “That was my first day,” she said.
She was sifting through photos when I found a red envelope with a birthday card from someone named Sam. It was from this year. I wondered why it wasn’t propped on her dresser with the other ones. Glancing over a photo, my mom said, “What’s that?”
“Just another letter from Auntie Lisa.” I closed the card and carefully slipped it back into the envelope, my heart in my ear.
She collected the papers, yawning, then brushed my hair back to kiss my forehead. “You feel like you know your mama better now?”
I thought about whoever the hell Sam was. “Yes.”