by Bex Dane
I follow his gaze to the long sofa we have set up for watching TV in the living room.
A woman sits alone on the center cushion. Deep wrinkles straddle her long, drawn face. She's thin with sunken eyes like a ghost. Her old-lady schoolmarm clothes hang loose on her bony body.
The equipment I'm carrying clunks to the floor.
Holy crap.
"Hello, Cassiopeia." She half-smiles. Her fake congeniality scrapes like nails on the chalkboard of my veins.
My mother.
She must be a ghost because my mom would never leave Roswell to visit a daughter she hates, especially not in California. She thinks California is a horrible place with earthquakes, fake people, and fires. That's part of why I picked California. I knew she'd never visit me here.
I have to blink several times to make sure she doesn't disappear.
Nope. Still there.
My mother is sitting on my couch in my apartment in Palms.
I haven't seen her in years. Not since the night she literally kicked me out of the house and locked the door.
Memories of begging her to open the door assault me. I'll never forget how it got dark, and she wouldn't open the damn door. I remember sleeping in the barn and sneaking back in through a window to pack a bag. The betrayal of my own mom. Rejected and kicked out of my childhood home without even a penny in my pocket.
I remember stealing money from her purse and taking the bus to my aunt's house. My aunt wouldn't take me in either, and I ended up sneaking onto a bus to California.
Holy shit. Some demons never die. How long has it been?
I was sixteen. I'm twenty-three. Seven years ago.
Cutter stands tall beside me and looks at the woman on the couch. She assesses him with her nose high.
"What are you doing here?" I ask her, my shock clear in my breathy voice.
"I came to reconnect with my baby girl." She folds her hands on her lap and smashes them into her knees.
My stomach lurches. For a split second, I believe her. She came for me. She loves me. She's not as bad as I remember. This could be our big reunion. Or not.
I huff out a disbelieving laugh. "Baby girl?"
She'd never called me that because she always wanted a boy.
My one chance at a kid and I get a girl. Now I'll never have a boy.
Cutter sets the stuff he's carrying on a table and positions himself slightly in front of me so I can see him and he's between me and my mom. He holds his shoulders high as he quietly assesses the situation.
Tash and Laith walk into the room slowly. "She said you were expecting her." Laith frowns at my mom.
"I wasn't," I reply stubbornly.
Laith and Tash share a guilty look.
"It's all right." I force an awkward smile for them. "You didn't know."
"You look nice," my mom says with absolutely no authenticity at all in her thin smile.
"Thanks." I'm still wearing my ghost hunting outfit with fishnet stockings and boots. I'm still unsure how to react to her. The sixteen-year-old girl in my heart wants to run up to her and give her a hug. She wants her mom to be happy to see her and be proud of her life in Los Angeles.
"Did you come out from Roswell to see me?" I take a few steps closer to her like I'm stepping toward the edge of a lake filled with crocodiles.
She nods. "I wanted to talk to you in person about something." She purses her lips and glances down at her clasped hands on her knees.
"Okay?" I sit down next to her on the couch, but my hands tremble. I should be able to trust her. She's my mom. Maybe she's changed. No one could be so evil forever. Maybe after I left, she realized the mistakes she'd made and the pain she'd caused. Maybe I was a difficult teenager and it was something all moms and kids go through. Maybe she'll accept me now that I'm an adult. If I say the right things, this could go well. We could both have some closure and let the separation become part of our past.
Cutter takes a seat to my left and exudes aggressive energy. She glances at him and hides her disdain, but I know what she would think of his baggy jeans and his unshaved jaw.
"Can we, uh, get you something to drink?" Tash asks my mom. She's so polite.
"Sure. I'll have a water." My mom orders from my roommate like she's a waitress.
Tash and Laith walk quickly back to the kitchen, likely trying to avoid becoming part of this.
My mom turns her attention back to me and I brace for it. "You do know aliens and ghosts aren't real, right?"
Is that why she came out here? "Of course I know that."
"I've seen your YouTube channel." She says it like she's been stewing over it for months, waiting to spit it out at me.
She would hate my channel. My clothes, my language, the craziness. She sounds angry that it appears I believe in aliens and ghosts. I look down because I'm torn. Maybe she's here to say she loves it. She sees me for who I am and she wants to support me. I'm so proud of the work I've done after all. Maybe...
As I look up into her impassive blue eyes, eyes the same color as mine, I feel like crying. If she doesn't like my channel, this will all go very wrong very fast.
"I want you to stop doing it," she demands.
Of course. Of course she doesn't approve. It's everything she hated about me. And she came all the way out here to admonish me for it. "Why? Because you think I believe in aliens and ghosts? Who cares what I choose to believe in if it makes me happy?"
The fiery heat rolling off Cutter hits the skin of my arms. But I'm not angry. I'm numb. Why do I always give her the benefit of the doubt? Something deep inside me always hopes she's changed, it's never different with her.
"Everyone in Roswell knows you're my daughter. It's incredibly embarrassing for me." Her voice sounds all snooty like she's some sorority debutante. She's a waitress in Roswell, not Lady Diana.
I'm shocked and hurt. I'm disappointed in her and in myself for thinking she might be here to make things right between us.
Cutter has all the intensity of his gaze boring into my mom, but she doesn't seem phased by it. My heart bleeds rivers of shame. He's seeing my mom and the way she treats me. This is normal for her.
As I stand and walk away, the familiar barb of her jagged arrows pierces my heart. She shoots them indiscriminately with an air of innocence and unjustified righteousness. Like I'm the crazy one and she has to defend herself from my insensitivity. I'm the bad one here in her mind. She thinks it's her duty to judge everything I do and inform me of her opinion on it. And out of respect for my "mother" I take it. I let it penetrate and hurt me and cause me to doubt myself.
"You didn't even ask me how I'm doing." Tears sting behind my eyelids, but I fight them back. I'm not going to let her see me cry.
"Well I've seen the videos. I know you're running around Los Angeles like a porn star bragging how you're from Roswell, and you're the expert on alien makeup."
Cutter stands up and moves to my side. He's still quiet, watching my mom intently. Figuring her out.
She stands quickly and my body instantly shrinks and pulls back. She hits with words, but she can flip on a dime and strike with fists or wooden spoons or whatever object she finds close. Right after a verbal jab, when I'm the weakest, that's when she doubles down with crossing a physical line.
I never hit her back. I always ran and hid in my room behind my locked door until she stopped screaming.
Cutter stands between us with his palms flat out to his sides facing my mom. He's blocking her way and keeping her corralled behind the coffee table. "You need to get going."
"Who the hell are you?" she says to him.
"I'm your worst nightmare, so you'll want to be leaving now." He keeps his voice low and even, but there's a definite sharp edge in his tone.
Cutter is standing up to her. No one does that. Everyone is so afraid of her. I didn't even tell Cutter that I wanted to kick her out, but he must know the things she's already said end all chances of reconciliation. She's not here to make nice.
; "I have one more thing to say."
"You're done." He cuts her off.
Ha! Cutter telling my mom you're done is classic. No one ever shuts her up. She rants for hours like a queen. She has a small frame but her voice is forceful and loud.
"This is important and I want you to listen to me." She leans around Cutter, and her eyes nail me with venom as one pointy finger aims at me.
Cutter moves then, not touching her, but crowding her until she's forced to move to the other side of the couch, closer to the door.
"Don't say you're from Roswell anymore." She wags a knobby old finger at me. "Don't tell them you did my makeup. It's not true. You're a liar, and you're cashing in on my life. You always lie and make me look bad."
Cutter touches her now, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to the door. "You're not welcome here."
This flips her switch. Her eyes darken, her jaw locks, and she's like the Wicked Witch of the West threatening Dorothy. She struggles to get away. "Don't touch me!"
Cutter releases her but holds his arms wide so she can't reach me. He's looking at me over his shoulder, but I don't see a question there. He's handling this and he wants me to trust him.
Laith and Tash return with some cups of water, but freeze as they see how Cutter is crowding my mom to the door. They have nice parents. They don't understand how this works. Cutter recognizes it right away and reacts. Which makes me sad. Because it means he had awful parents too.
"I wish I never had you. You ruined my life," my mom shoots out, clueless to how uncomfortable she's made everyone in the room.
I ruined her life? I lost my dad when she lost her husband, but she never thinks of that. It's always my fault he died. My fault I couldn't take care of the farm like he did.
Tash puts the cups of water on the coffee table and moves to stand next to me. "I think you should leave," she says to my mom.
With Cutter creating a buffer between us and my best friend standing next to me, I find my strength. Has anyone ever confronted her and held her back? I can't think of another time anyone stood between me and her and protected me. In Cutter's family, this is probably normal for them. They fight for each other all the time. No one has ever fought for me like this. No one.
I'm angry she did this. She brought this all to my apartment and said all this in front of my friends. This is so messed up. I need to stand up to her.
"I left, Mom." My voice hitches when I start to speak, but I have to get it out. "You told me to leave and I left. I'm living my life. I gave you so many chances, and you hurt me all the time. All my life, all I wanted was a nice mom. The kind of mom who cares about me. Takes me shopping. Talks about life. But I don't have that. I've got this." My hands motion toward her. "This is all I got. Your words hurt me. They make me doubt myself. They make me feel unloved. Like no one ever loved me and no one can. You bring only pain and evil with you."
Her mouth draws down into an offended frown. "I'm not evil. I'm your mother. I love you. It's my job to tell you when you're making a fool of yourself and embarrassing the family."
I've heard her say this twisted stuff before. "The family? What family? Dad is dead. Your siblings all hate you. I have no family to embarrass. And now I don't have you anymore so I can do what I want, wear what I want, say I'm from Roswell if I want, because I am. And I did do your makeup when you worked as an alien waitress. Don't pretend you didn't do that to make money."
"Lord only knows what you're doing to make money," she snaps back and looks to the ceiling.
"Hey. That's enough," Cutter says with his deep voice.
Laith walks to the front door and holds it open. "This way out," he says to my mom. Now I have three people on my side, and I'm feeling stronger by the moment.
My mom gets her pointer finger going again. It's like her sword. "She slept with everyone in Roswell, and I'm sure she screwed her way into this apartment. She's a —"
It's not true but I hate that she'd think that of me and say it in front of my friends. I run over and try to get my fist around Cutter, so I can smash her in the face. I get one swipe out and barely scratch her before Laith wraps his arms around me and holds me back. "I got you."
A vein in Cutter's neck bulges as he takes another step forward, pushing my mom one more foot toward the open door. He's keeping his calm, but also making it clear she's not getting anywhere near me. "Bullshit. Cass worked her ass off to get where she is, and you got no right to come here and cut her down. She's a sweet girl despite whatever hate you threw at her. One of the kindest, purest souls I've ever met. She's a far better woman than you ever were or could be."
Aww. I love that he said that and I'm so proud of him. Her evil glare scares everyone away. Even my dad cowered under her finger. Cutter is the only one brave enough to finally say it like it is.
"We shouldn't have let her in. I'm sorry, Cass. I didn't know it was this bad," Laith says in my ear. He loosens his hold on me after he realizes I'm not going to attack my mom again.
I sneer at my mom. "It's okay. It shocks me all the time too. It's hard to believe a mom could be like her."
"She has us now. You can go." Tash saying this means the world to me. Yes, we've been friends a long time but she's never been around when I needed support like this.
"We love her," Laith says. "We'll take care of her now and put her back together."
Laith's words are like a blanket around my heart. So, so nice of him to say that. They love me. It helps. It really does.
"You can go back to the hole you crawled out of," Cutter says.
My mom's shocked face is priceless. There's four of us here united against her and it feels good. I'm not alone after all. Somebody loves me.
"Goodbye, Mom. I'm sorry it has to be like this, but this is the end. Don't contact me again. Don't come here. Don't come back. You're not my mother anymore. Leave me alone to live my life." I should've said it to her a long time ago, but at least tonight I've found the courage.
Her eyes flare with anger and her fists curl. If I take myself out of her life forever, she won't have anyone to blame for her unhappiness anymore. She could've made a life for herself like I've made mine and she chose not to. That's all on her. Not my problem anymore.
Cutter puts his hands on her again and forces her the final steps out the door. Thank goodness she doesn't get violent and escalate it physically. She knows she can't win against Cutter.
She looks back and gives me one more glare before she straightens her back and walks away with an indignant expression on her face. I'm sure she thinks I'm the rotten one here like I've done her some huge injustice. The good news is I don't give a damn what she thinks. My life is my own now, and her opinion of it doesn't matter. As soon as she's gone, the reality of what just happened hits me. The tears I've been holding back threaten to spill.
Chapter 13 Tail Lights
Laith shuts the door and takes a deep breath as he looks at me. "Are you okay?"
Cutter's gaze locks on mine. He's worried too, gauging my reaction.
"Oh, Cass. That was awful." Tash reaches out to put an arm over my shoulder.
With a sniff, I hold up my hands, palms out to keep them away. "I'm fine," is all I can muster because I'm really not fine, but they stood up for me and I stood up for myself so I know I'll be fine after I recover from this, but it still hurts to have to say goodbye to your own mom. "Thank you, um… Thank you for ya know…" My lip trembles as I blink back the tears. My fingers come to my mouth to try to hide it, but I'm crumbling.
Cutter moves fast, taking a few strides to me and wrapping me in a hug. His warm chest is there for me, but I don't want to cry. I want to recover. I always recover after a fight with her, but this one will take some time. I work so hard every day to drown out her voice, and she walks into my apartment and fills it with her wretched squawking.
Cutter lifts me up, and my legs wrap around his hips as he carries me to my room. He closes my bedroom door and sits down on the bed. I'm settling i
n on his lap when the dam breaks. The pain of seeing her, what she said, it squeezes my heart in bitter regret for the childhood I could've had. What about me was so hard for her to love?
His shoulders are so strong. I'm heaving tears and snot on his shirt but God it feels so good to have a place for them to land. His palm flat on my back steadies the convulsions racking my torso. How many years have I cried alone wishing someone was here to comfort me?
You see it in the movies. I've read it in books. There's always someone there who'll let you cry on their shoulder. Not for me. Guys see me get emotional or I start to share this stuff and they get uncomfortable and run. They always reject me when I show how screwed up I am. But I've seen Cutter stand tall and unyielding as he takes emotion from all the people in his family and now he's taking mine. He's fiercely brave. He's not afraid of anything.
"Shh, babe. It's okay." The compassion in his voice wrecks me. He's so nice.
"I'm so embarrassed." A few more sniffles and gulps escape from me, but the heaving has stopped.
He pulls my head back to look up at him. I must look like crap. "No reason to be."
"That's my mom. That's the woman I'm supposed to love." I'm wiping the snot from my face. I need a tissue to hide behind.
He shakes his head. "You don't have to love her, and she doesn't reflect on you at all. You and her are separate people."
"Yeah." I nod. He's right. I need to accept my mom is who she is and she's not going to change. Something is wrong with her if she can't accept me. It's good I ended it and finally put this to rest.
"None of what she said is true." His hands smooth my hair down and grip my neck. It feels nice.
"Some of it is in a sense." I did have some wild days in Roswell, and I do brag about doing alien makeup there, but that's no reason for her to treat me the way she does.
"Who fucking cares? Not a one of us is perfect. We all have flaws. We've all done shit, but your mom, she's the one who's supposed to love you and if she doesn't, then you don't have to love her." He talks like he's been through this.