by Lea Coll
“Maybe once she hits bottom, she’ll go to rehab.”
“That’s the idea. And it’s past time for me to get my own life.”
“I think you’re doing the right thing. Would you like to go up and take a look?”
“Definitely.” I followed her as she locked up the studio and unlocked a separate door that led to the stairs to her apartment.
At the top, she opened the door and stepped back. “It’s huge because it runs the whole length of the studio. I liked the idea of buying a business and a home in one.”
“Oh, you own the whole building?” The difference in our lives was never more striking than realizing she owned her own business and the building. What could I have accomplished if I didn’t sink all of my money into my mother and her problems?
“Yes.”
It was an open loft with large floor-to-ceiling windows that showed the street below. The living room led into the open kitchen and down a small hall to two or more bedrooms and one bathroom. I’d take some of the furniture from my mom’s and I was already arranging it in the living room in my head. “It’s perfect.”
Kristen had offered me this job despite backlash from her customers, and she’d always been nice to me. “Thank you for taking a chance on me—offering me a job when people questioned it and now this apartment.”
Kristen smiled. “Hiring you was the best decision I ever made. I have more time for myself. I was trying to do too much before and now I can contemplate expanding.”
I wondered if she’d want a business partner, someone who could teach classes and offer some capital. I wasn’t in the position to offer much in the way of money, but maybe it could be a goal. “I think that’s a great idea. I’d love to be part of that. I could help with all the legal stuff too.”
“At some point, I want to get married and have kids. I’ll need someone to lean on in order to do that—a manager, or a co-owner.”
How had I overlooked the importance of a friend—someone to be a sounding board? It made all the difference in the world. I wasn’t adrift on the sea, wondering if my decisions were wrong or right. I had two people that would back me up, encourage me, support me.
We locked up and said goodbye. I almost walked to the passenger side of my car before I remembered Tanner fixed it. I felt a rush of gratitude when I was able to open the handle. He’d made my life easier. Did he realize what a big deal that was?
I liked it too much. I liked his support, his help, his care, and the way I felt when he was around which was dangerous. Good things never lasted—especially not for girls like me.
Tanner
When I got Rylan home that night, it was a flurry of dinner, homework, and getting things ready for the next day. I wished I had more help at home with the day-to-day stuff—homework, dinner, getting ready for bed. I hadn’t heard from Bree since the time she missed picking Rylan up for dance a few weeks ago.
I wasn’t sure what my role with Bree should be. I wasn’t her boyfriend or even her friend. As the mother of my child, did I have a duty to check up on her? I struggled with the question of whether Bree was my responsibility.
When I was tucking Rylan into bed, she said, “Daddy, I miss Mommy.”
“I know, sweetie. She’s been busy lately, but you can see her soon.” I hated making promises I couldn’t keep. But I couldn’t tell her the truth, which was that I had no idea when she’d see her mother again or if she even would. The fact that Bree was letting her down, filled me with anger.
“I love you.” She turned on her side and closed her eyes.
“I love you too.” I kissed her one more time on her nose before I turned off her light and sat heavily on the couch. Logically, I knew addiction was a disease, but if Bree loved her daughter she’d try to get better so she could be here for her. My training told me addiction was stronger than Bree’s love for Rylan, but that didn’t help when Rylan was disappointed.
I turned on the TV low and waited until I was sure Rylan was asleep before calling Bree’s parents.
When Bree’s mom answered, I said, “Hey, it’s Tanner.”
“Hi. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Rylan is doing great. She just started a hip-hop class that she loves. She has a recital before Christmas if you’d like to come.”
“We’d love to. Thanks for inviting us. You know I appreciate you keeping us updated because—we haven’t heard from Bree in awhile.”
I sighed. “I haven’t either. I’m not sure what to do.” I didn’t want to go into specifics—that I was documenting everything for the custody case.
“I don’t like sitting back and doing nothing. It breaks my heart that she’s not more involved in Rylan’s life—she needs a mother.”
“I agree but not while she’s like this.”
“I’ll try and get through to her.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” I wasn’t sure it would do any good, but her parents were my only hope at this point.
We talked a little longer about how Rylan was doing in school before we said our goodbyes and hung up. I had enough in my life with a potential custody case on the horizon. I should stay away from Sadie and her troubles. Instead, I wanted to peel back her layers and learn everything there was to know about her. I didn’t want to hear about her from someone else. I wanted her to open up to me. I wanted her to trust me.
My phone buzzed and I immediately thought of Sadie as my heart rate picked up. I hoped the message was from her.
Bree: Can I see Rylan this weekend?
My stomach dropped and my fingers hovered over the screen. Had her parents gotten in contact with her so soon? I wanted to ask if she was sober. But questions like that set Bree off even though they were necessary for Rylan’s safety. I hated sending Rylan to stay with her when I didn’t know if it was safe.
When Rylan was gone, I couldn’t settle my mind. What if Bree overdosed and Rylan found her? What if Bree was on something and Rylan wandered out of the house or hurt herself? What if she drove drunk with Rylan in the car?
I had to know. Tanner: Are you sober?
Bree: Of course, I am. Why would you ask that?
She didn’t even realize she had a problem—that her behavior was an obvious pattern. Drinking too much and mixing alcohol with her Xanax pills so she couldn’t take Rylan. She thought she was justified in taking the anxiety pills and maybe she was—I wasn’t a doctor. But you can’t mix alcohol with the pills. I’d seen the effects on my job enough to know. Pills intensified the effects of the alcohol, rendering her unable to care for herself and another person.
But without some criminal conviction for DUI, I couldn’t tell the judge she shouldn’t see Rylan. No matter how much I worried or thought it was unsafe. There needed to be proof. So far, Bree managed to show up at her job and hadn’t been caught driving under the influence.
Maybe it was time to speak to my attorney before I allowed her to take Rylan outside of her visitation schedule. My phone buzzed again.
Sadie: Parents’ night out is next Friday night. Looks like sixty kids are scheduled to come.
The night out was from five to nine p.m. I wanted to bring Rylan, but my parents wanted to see the high school production of Cinderella.
Tanner: I’m not going to lie. I’m a little scared of being responsible for sixty kids.
Sadie: Kristen will be here too, and a few of the older students.
I’d been looking forward to more time with Sadie but that was unlikely with the kids and Kristen there.
Sadie: Don’t worry. I’ll be there to help you ☺.
Tanner: Great. I’m looking forward to it.
Volunteering didn’t seem as bad as I initially thought. It was an excuse to spend time with Sadie, and since she didn’t trust easily, working with her was an opportunity to build something without pressure. I needed to work my way into her life, helping her, being there for her, and then take the next step. I just needed to be sure before I made my move that it was the right one for R
ylan and me.
Sadie: You’re looking forward to babysitting sixty kids? How far you’ve come from the day you didn’t want to volunteer at all.
Her text was light and playful, and I wanted to push her a little further to see how’d she react. Tanner: Maybe it’s not all about the kids—
The screen was blank for so long—I didn’t think she’d respond. Finally, I saw the bubbles indicating she was writing.
Sadie: What’s it about?
My heart thudded painfully in my chest. Was it too soon to reveal my intentions? Before I could overthink it, I typed quickly and hit send. Tanner: A girl I want to get to know better.
I wanted to see her face when she read my words. I wanted to touch her to see if her body reacted. But I knew she needed this space from me to process the idea of us.
Sadie: Is that a good idea?
That was the question, and I didn’t know the answer but I sure as hell hoped it was yes. Tanner: I’m starting to think it’s the best idea I’ve ever had.
The next time I was intimate with a woman, I wanted it to be the right choice. A good mother figure for Rylan—honest and trustworthy. Luke’s warning was a red flag I couldn’t ignore, but everything in my body indicated this girl was good. She was hurt, wronged, misunderstood, and I wanted to be the one who picked up her pieces and put her back together. I’d be the one to show her how life could be different. I just hoped I wasn’t making the wrong decision.
Sadie
I arrived at the hospital first thing in the morning, hoping to get Mom’s discharge paperwork expedited so I could get back to work. I stopped at the nurse’s station and told her I was ready to take Mom home and then cautiously entered her room.
She was sitting up in her room when I came in. “Where’ve you been? They would have let me go yesterday if you’d been here like you were supposed to be.”
“That’s not what the nurse said when I called.”
“Bullshit. I can’t believe you left me here.” She sneered at me in disgust.
“You got yourself here and you can get yourself home too.” I took a step toward the door. I’d never been this abrupt with her before. If this was what boundaries felt like—it felt good.
“Wait.”
I paused but didn’t turn.
“I’d like you to drive me home.” Her voice was quieter and conciliatory.
When I still didn’t look at her or respond, she said, “Please.”
“Fine. Do you need help getting dressed or going to the bathroom first?” I packed her things and listened to the discharge instructions from the nurse.
When I pulled my car up to the hospital’s curb and helped her inside, she said, “I can’t believe you drive this piece of shit car.”
“I drive this car because you stole my money, ruined my credit, and I pay for your house.”
She gritted her teeth but didn’t respond. I rounded the car and slid inside. I usually wouldn’t have responded, but I was done with this. If she wouldn’t face reality—I’d do it for her. She was silent the rest of the ride home.
When we arrived, I helped her lay down on the couch and prepared a light lunch for her and placed it along with a glass of water on the coffee table. I sat on the couch and wiped my sweaty hands on my pants.
I’d planned to wait to have this conversation later—once she’d settled back home but now that I’d gotten a taste of how things could be if I set boundaries—I wanted more distance from her.
I didn’t have high hopes that this was going to go smoothly. When I pulled away, my mom tended to up the dramatics. I’d only made a clean break during college and law school because she had a good boyfriend who talked reason into her.
I’d cleaned the living room while she was in the hospital, so the room was bright and airy with none of the beer bottles and dirty plates that normally littered the surfaces.
“Mom.” Should I explain why? Should I express my care and concern for her but tell her I had no choice? I took a deep breath. “I’m moving out.”
“Why would you do that?” Her eyes were on me and she’d shifted to a partial seated position against the couch pillow.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
“What, take care of your mother?” Her voice was chiding, her forehead wrinkled.
I had to look away from her—the guilt slammed into me—making it difficult to draw a breath. Those words never failed to drag me back in again. Taking care of her was my responsibility, my job, and my life. I ran Tanner’s words through my head: detach with love. I could do this. “Me, taking care of you, this house, and your bills isn’t helping you.”
“What am I going to do?” Her voice was whiny and desperate.
I pushed down any thoughts of giving in to her manipulations. “You can get a job. You’re still young.”
“I can’t work.”
It was always the same excuse. “If you stopped drinking, you’d be able to work.”
“Doing what?”
“Waitressing, retail, the grocery store. But you have to stop drinking. If you can’t stop, then you need to go to rehab. The emergency room should have been a wake-up call for you. The doctor said if you keep drinking like this, your liver’s going to get worse, and eventually, it’s going to fail. That’s reality.”
The memory of walking into our home and finding her passed out in her vomit—not being able to wake her, and the doctor’s bleak words had made things real for me.
She sat up on the couch, her eyes flashing with anger. “What the fuck do doctors know?”
It was the same thing when I was a child—don’t trust the teachers, the police officers, the doctors. I was weary of her excuses. I sat on the chair across from her and my body felt weak with exhaustion. She wouldn’t admit she had a problem, and as usual, she was sure no one knew more than her.
“So what, you’re going to leave me like Dennis, like Eric?”
Eric was the nicest boyfriend she’d had—the one who’d been with her when I’d gone away for school. Anger filtered through me, my fingers curled into fists, but I slowed my words so she’d hear me. “Eric left because you were drinking again and Dennis sexually assaulted Annabelle.” And he’d tried with me.
“He did not. That’s something you girls made up to get attention. It’s horrible what happened to him.”
Anger boiled inside me until I felt like bursting. I had tried to tell her the truth about that night right after it happened. I was scared and unsure of what to do. Her response was to keep quiet. We couldn’t trust the officers—they might take me from her, but anytime Dennis came up on the news or in conversation over the years—she’d defend him. I usually ignored it, but I’d had enough. “He did.”
She sat up and leaned forward. “You were passed out. How would you know?”
“I told you I woke up to him on top of me, but we’re not here to talk about that.” My voice shook and I wanted to flee. I hated talking about this, but she only brought Dennis up to distract me. “This is about me leaving. Me wanting what’s best for you and if I keep taking care of everything for you—you’re not going to get better—you’re only going to get worse.”
The emotions played over her face—the anger dissipated and turned to helplessness. “So, who’s going to pay for this house?”
She was trying to change tactics—appeal to the guilt that always simmered below the surface. It had worked in the past but not now. “The bank will foreclose. Let this be your wake-up call. Take it before it’s too late.”
“You’re going to be sorry when I’m living on the street.”
I’d given into the guilt before, but now I had Tanner and Kristen to support me—to tell me this was the right thing to do. “No, what I’m doing comes from love, care, and concern for you. What I’ve been doing these last few years is enabling you to live in filth.”
Mom relaxed back into the couch. “Fine, leave.”
She didn’t believe I’d do it because I never had before. She asked me to
come back after Eric left and I had dropped everything. She was all I had and that’s why I was doing this.
“I’m packing everything up and moving into an apartment in town this weekend. I’m not paying any bills once I move out. You’re going to need to figure this out on your own.”
“I just can’t believe you’d leave your own mother—just like your grandparents did. Go ahead and walk out—like everyone else.”
“You haven’t been my mother in a long time—if you ever were.” I wanted to walk out and never come back, but I had to know. If her current health and determination to drink herself to death was any indication, I might not have another chance to ask her. “What happened with Grandpa and Grandma? Why did they stop coming around?”
“They were embarrassed by that shit you pulled in high school.”
My eyes narrowed on her—my mother’s fallback was to blame other people. “Did you tell them to stop coming by?”
“No, you did that all on your own. Having a party, trying to get with my boyfriend.”
I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears. “I thought Dennis was interested in me as a daughter, and I’ve done nothing but help you over the years. The one thing I needed was a mother.”
I didn’t wait for an answer because nothing she had to say would help me anymore. She was toxic. Maybe if she stopped drinking, things would change, but I didn’t hold much hope she’d stop.
I opened the door to leave. I wanted to pack everything I could grab and go, but I had a few more days until I could move into Kristen’s apartment. I’d have to deal with her vitriol for a little longer—then I’d be free.
Thankfully, I didn’t have court this afternoon—I couldn’t focus.
I somehow got through the rest of my day. I wanted to call Tanner and thank him for his advice, but I could wait until his nightly text. I looked forward to and enjoyed them. I didn’t want whatever this was to end.