She shakes her head, obviously not amused by my answer. Then she dives in, spitting the most hurtful, spiteful words any woman—let alone a mother—could say to her daughter.
“Maybe Alan’s actions weren’t completely brought on by his own doing.”
Gulping a lungful of air, my vision blurs with anger. I grab a hold of the kitchen counter and grip it for dear life. How could she say that? How could she possible think that about her own daughter? I’m so stunned by it all that I can’t form the words that so desperately need to come out.
Jessie—upon seeing my reaction—orders my mum to get out of her house and never return. She grabs her arm, practically frog-marching her out of her apartment.
All the while this is going on, hot, angry tears well in my eyes. I can’t believe my own mother said that. I can’t believe she even considered that the actions of Alan were brought on by anything I ever did. It pains me that she thinks I led him on. I was only a child, for fuck’s sake. How could she feel that a twelve, almost thirteen-year-old would be capable of what she is insinuating? I’m her daughter. Someone she is supposed to love unconditionally. Someone she is supposed to believe above anyone else. Someone she is supposed to nurture, care for, and protect at all costs.
Her own flesh and blood.
The door slamming jars me from my musings . I hear Jessie curse under her breath before she sprints back to the kitchen, turns the stove off, and leads me to the living room by my hand. My legs are like jelly. I don’t know how I make it there, but I somehow do with Jessie’s support.
She sucks in a deep, angry breath before asking, “I think I know what happened with this Alan guy. Am I right?” Without saying a word, I nod my head. “What a fucking bitch. How dare she!”
I know I need to tell Jessie the story, so it all comes spilling out. She listens without interrupting, caressing my hand when it all gets a bit too much. When I finish, Jessie takes a moment to digest everything before she speaks.
“You don’t need that shit in your life. Your mom sounds like pure poison. I wouldn’t normally say this to people about their own mother, but I think you should keep your distance from her. She’s bad news, and you’re old enough now to do without that kind of grief.” She pulls back, smacking the side of her leg in anger. “Wow, I never knew a mom could be that evil.”
Sensing my distress, Jessie pulls me to her, stroking my hair. She’s trying to comfort me, and my heart feels lighter by her actions. She’s right, of course. I’m more than old enough to make my own decisions. I can decide to live without a mother if I want to. She never really was one anyway.
“I know I’ve said this before, but I can stay tonight, if you want? I feel bad about missing your birthday.”
I shake my head on her shoulder then pull away so I can look at her. “Honestly, Jessie, I’m fine. Michael called, he’s picking me up after eight, so I’m good.” I wipe away my tears and offer her a big smile. Today has certainly been quite the day. I’ve told her all I can about Alan, but I’m certainly not telling her about the journalist just yet. I know for a fact she will cancel her plans, and what good would that do? Besides, I have Michael to confide in for the time being.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
On a sniffle, I nod my head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s talk about something more pleasant now, please. I’m tired of talking about my mum.”
With a pat of my hand and a soft smile, Jessie suddenly swings around, grabbing her bag to pull out a present. “I got this for you.” She then pulls out the card she mentioned earlier on the phone and places it on the table.
I frown as I don’t recognize the writing then quickly turn my attention back to Jessie’s present. I open it up to take a look, and I’m completely taken aback by what she got me.
“Jessie, you little bitch, what am I supposed to do with this?” I laugh so hard once I turn it on—the solid, rather adequate sized pink device now buzzing in my hand.
“Ana,” she scolds. “If you really need me to explain to you, then there’s obviously something missing in your life. I just thought … you know … since you may be lonely in that room all by yourself, you may need some company. It’s not the same, but they help during the hard times. Believe me.”
As I watch it buzzing in my hand, I snort out a laugh. “Well, thank you—I think. I’m on my period at the moment, so that would be a bit messy.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “You know, funnily enough, so am I, but I have condoms. There are plenty in the nightstand if you need any for that big fella—or any live beating ones, if that’s what you prefer.” She wriggles her eyebrows at me. “You can’t beat the live beating ones.” We both giggle at that, but then she glances away, like she’s off in her own little world—a world I do not wish for her to go to in my presence.
“Well I appreciate the gift, Jessie.”
Snapping herself out of it, she rubs my shoulder and gets up from the sofa. “I’m just going to hop in the shower and get ready. You need anything? Are you good?”
After Jessie’s present, I suddenly am. It’s not the actual gift that improved my mood, it’s the thought behind it. It’s classic Jessie, and I love her for it.
“I’m actually very good. I’ve got a great friend and another taking me to the movies later. Can’t get much better than that.” I smile, but there is still a hint of sadness in me I can’t hide.
“Well, I’ll hit the shower then. Oh, and don’t forget your pasta.”
She walks off, leaving me on my own, so I head towards the kitchen to complete the task of cooking my meal. I spy the present Mum brought round on the side, and I quickly pick it up and put it exactly where it belongs.
In the bin.
Once the door to the bin closes with a satisfying clunk, I make my way over to the kitchen cupboards to look for some sauce. When found, I pop it in the microwave and drain the pasta.
All is ready in no time, so I saunter into the living room and sit at the dining table. Jessie comes out with a towel wrapped around her head and she inhales deeply.
“God, that smells good. I’m really hungry already.”
I pull my fork up to her. “You want some?”
She shakes her head. “Nah, I’ve just brushed my teeth. Besides, I want to keep my hunger ready for Jerry later. In every sense of the word,” she drawls in a husky voice.
I roll my eyes at her.
“Don’t be jealous. You have Mr. Brator to help you out later.” Initially, the name doesn’t register as I look up to her with a frown. “You know, first name, Vi.” She giggles as she makes her way back to her room while she’s shaking her head, leaving me to do the same.
7
I get myself ready for Michael, deciding to put on a simple tank top and jeans. I grab the earrings that Matthew bought for me and put them on, admiring the way they twinkle in the light. Once I pull out a cardigan I can wear for when it gets chilly, I make my way back to the living room. Jessie’s still in her room when the doorbell chimes.
“Ana, can you get that? It should be Jerry.”
I shout back, “okay,” and make my way to the door. I look through the peephole and see who must be Jerry.