MOTHER: A Novel

by Angel Gelique

  “Both, usually. I feel good getting things off my chest but at the same time it’s all depressing. I just wish I knew the right thing to do.”

  “Well I’m far from an expert, but they say the best thing you can do is love a child unconditionally, be there for them and accept their faults.”

  “I think I’ve done all that and more!”

  “I’m sure you have. I guess it just takes a lot of patience,” Eric added.

  “I’m seriously at my wit’s end. I feel like running away from home sometimes.”

  Eric chuckled at the mental image of Jane carrying her belongings tied to a stick like a hobo as she hitched a ride. He didn’t dare share his childish thoughts with her. It was no laughing matter to her, even if she could joke about it now and again.

  They were both doing a good job finishing off their beer. Jane, who was not used to drinking, already had a slight buzz going. She

  had had some wine at Zachary’s house not too long ago. She hoped Eric wouldn’t order another round.

  Eric pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and grabbed a business card from inside. He handed it to Jane.

  “If you ever need anyone to talk to, call me. In fact, I hope you’ll call me regardless,” he said.

  Jane took the card and examined it. He was Eric Murray from “Memorable Daze Studios.” Memorable Daze, she thought. It was the same studio she had reserved for the party she had planned for Emma.

  “You know, I had planned on using you for a party I booked at Le Royale,” she said.

  “What party? When was it?”

  “Oh, I had to cancel it. You kept my deposit,” she teasingly accused.

  “Really? You must not have given us the required thirty day notice,” he said, and added, “I’m sorry,” for good measure.

  “No, I understand, I’m just teasing you. I just canceled last weekend and the party is...or was, scheduled for next Friday.”

  “What kind of party was it?” Eric asked out of curiosity.

  “Emma’s sweet sixteen,” Jane answered, knowing she’d have to explain the whole fiasco to him.

  “Wait...I’m a little confused...you had two parties planned?”

  “I had one party planned—the one for next Friday. Little did I know that Emma called her father and convinced him to pay for and plan a different party—tonight’s party.”

  “That was pretty foolish of him, I’m sure you must have lost a ton of money.”

  “Too much, but it wasn’t his fault, or even Emma’s. I guess I’m to blame for keeping it all a secret—I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  “Oh, so Emma didn’t realize and planned a party with her father,” Eric said.

  “It was definitely a surprise—for me. And not a good one!”

  “I can imagine,” Eric responded. “Is that why Emma didn’t invite you to the party? Because she was mad, believing that you didn’t plan a party for her?”

  “No...I told her about the party I planned, but by then she said it was too late. She didn’t invite me because of my weight. I’m an embarrassment to her,” Jane said sadly.

  “You have to believe that it’s just her immaturity—you’re her mother and I know she loves you,” Eric said, unable to fully imagine how cruel and hurtful Emma had been to her.

  Jane lost her fight against staying strong and dried-eyed. Long tears fell from her eyes as she tried to hide her face.

  “I’m so sorry, Jane,” Eric said, reaching for her hand. “I just know it’ll get better.”

  Jane wished she could be comforted by Eric’s kind words, but he had no idea how bad things were. How could he possibly know that things would get better?

  “She calls me Jane,” she said in a soft, muffled voice.

  “Excuse me?” Eric asked, unsure of what he heard and who Jane was referring to.

  “Emma. She refuses to call me mom. She calls me Jane. She looks at me with cold, hateful eyes. She even slapped me once.”

  Eric suppressed a gasp. He was appalled that a teen-aged girl could treat her mother so badly.

  “Jane, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you. I wish I could help somehow. Have you thought about counseling, maybe?”

  “You don’t understand, she won’t listen to me. We can’t even carry on a five- minute conversation without her storming off, or worse.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Eric said honestly.

  He had no idea what advice to give. It seemed like a horrible situation to be in.

  “But you can’t let her physically hit you and disrespect you. She needs to know her place.”

  “I just don’t know how to get back to the way things were. She was such a sweet, wonderful girl. Once Greg—my ex—left, she grew progressively angrier and resentful.”

  “Did you ever try to get counseling for her at that point—when she was just starting to become so....” he searched his mind for a word that wasn’t too harsh. “...defiant,” he said, though he could think of far more suitable words.

  Jane shook her head regretfully.

  “I know,” she said, “that’s why things got so out of control.”

  “Well, it’ll do no good wishing you could change the past. We have to figure out what to do now,” Eric said, genuinely concerned.

  Jane couldn’t help but smile at Eric’s use of the word “we” as

  though he intended to become part of the picture. Jane hoped so. It had been a long, long time since she had some male companionship and she was ready for a meaningful relationship. Eric was almost too good to be true: handsome, caring, successful, smart...and hopefully loyal.

  “I’m sure you’re right. As Emma matures, she’ll come around,” Jane said, hopefully.

  “I hope it’s sooner than later, I don’t want to see you sad all the time,” Eric said warmly.

  “Okay, I’m done talking about Emma. Tell me more about the great Eric Murray.”

  Eric smiled. That would be much easier than attempting to fix a screwed-up teen.

  “Hmm...let’s see...you already know I’m a photographer, I have a brother and a sister, my parents still live in New York where I grew up—Long Island, more specifically. I like to play baseball, soccer, tennis, darts and billiards. I like traveling, even if I don’t have much time to go far. I’d love to go to the Galapagos Islands. I love to eat—almost anything! I have an awful sweet tooth. I’m actually ready to raid a bakery now. Do you want to get out of here? I know another great place....” Eric grinned, hoping Jane would agree.

  “Thanks, but I really need to get home. I don’t even know what time the party ends,” Jane answered, her mind racing back to Emma, to Eric’s dismay.

  Eric looked at his watch. It was nearly midnight already.

  “Okay,” he said with a disappointed sigh. “But I’ll be expecting a rain check.”

  Jane searched in her purse and pulled out a business card. She handed it to Eric, who smiled happily.

  “I was wondering if you were going to give me your number. I was hoping you wouldn’t just disappear out of my life.”

  Jane was overjoyed. It was incredible how she could be distraught one moment and elated the next...at least when Eric was around. He was a most welcome distraction from her misery.

  “I think you’re a wonderful man, Eric. I owe you another night out without my whining and crying.”

  “It’s a deal, but I really didn’t mind listening. Anytime, Jane,” he said.

  Jane took the last swig from her bottled Heineken and they left

  the bar. Eric drove her back to Sierra Gardens. Jane’s face grew worried as they approached the building. The tension in the car was staggering. Eric reached out for Jane’s hand.

  “You’re not going in there again, are you?” he said, implying “don’t go in there again.”

  “It doesn’t really look as though there’s anyone left. What if she needs a ride home?”

  “Did she need a ride there?” he asked.

  “No, she must
have gotten a ride with one of her friends,” Jane answered. Little did she know that Emma had been relying on her for a ride there…and back.

  “Well then she won’t need a ride back with you.”

  “I guess not,” Jane said, feeling a bit silly. “Thanks again for everything, Eric.” She quickly withdrew her hand, planted a kiss on his cheek, then grabbed her purse and got out of the car before he had a chance to get out and open the door for her.

  “I’ll call you,” she said and raced off to her nearby car.

  What was that all about? Eric wondered. She seemed to be in such a rush to get away from him. He hoped that he hadn’t offended her by suggesting that she stay out of the building. He wondered if she would call him, if he’d ever see her again. Maybe it would be for the best if she didn’t. She had a teen-aged daughter—and an evil

  one at that. It could only complicate things. He watched as she got into her car and drove off, waving to him as she passed. Then he started the engine and took off as well.

  ~9~

  Emma watched the whole exchange between Eric and Jane from the window inside of the Sierra Gardens banquet room. She felt like retching when she saw Jane lean over and kiss the photographer. What did she see in him anyway? He was old, had a receding hairline and looked dumpy in those drab, baggy clothes he wore. Not to mention he had the personality of a doorknob. And to top it off, he was really stupid. He kept bugging Emma to pose for pictures even though she wasn’t in the mood. She had told him at least three times to leave her alone and he kept trying and trying to get her to smile. What a jerk, Emma thought, her eyes narrowed, her fists clenched.

  Earlier, she had seen Jane leave her car in the lot and knew she’d come back for it. She figured she would come back for her as well and drive her home, although she would have much preferred a ride with one of her friends. She didn’t have many friends left after tonight, maybe not any. She had forced Sarah to leave her party and so many others had left on their own after her scene with Jane. She had tried to minimize what had happened and even made jokes about it, but no one thought it was funny at all. They looked at her with disgust and made it clear that they no longer cared to associate with her. She had spent a good part of the evening crying and throwing up in the bathroom.

  The party officially ended at eleven o’clock. Emma had first tried to get a ride home with Marcy, but she completely ignored her. Jim gave her a dirty look and she knew there was no point in asking. Claudia said, “what, now you want to talk to me? I don’t think so,” and walked away from her. She felt uncomfortable asking Jake, but did so anyway. He looked greatly annoyed as he replied, “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  In the end, Emma was left all alone at her party. The owner had allowed her to stay because she lied and said that she was waiting for a ride home. She had even allowed Emma to leave her birthday gifts

  stored in a back room until arrangements could be made to transport them home. Now, the staff was nearly done with the clean-up.

  The owner of Sierra Gardens was a middle-aged woman named Carol. She hadn’t witnessed any of Emma’s outbursts, but had heard about a couple of them from some of her staff members. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that no one came to pick her up, yet she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl. Carol approached Emma.

  Emma looked like something the cat dragged in, almost literally. Her dress had a big stain on the front, her eye makeup had run, leaving dark marks under her eyes and jutting cheekbones and her hair was a huge, tangled mess. Emma looked up at Carol as she heard the approaching footsteps. It looked as though she had just finished crying again.

  “No luck getting in touch with your dad?” Carol asked. Emma had lied and told her that she had been trying to get in touch with him for the past hour. The truth was, Emma had absolutely no way of getting in touch with Gregory. She only had his office phone number and she knew he wouldn’t be there. Despite the fact that she was disappointed and angry at him for not showing up, she would have gladly accepted a ride from him if she knew how to reach him. She sighed heavily, not knowing what to do. She didn’t have enough money left for cab fare home.

  “No....” she said pitifully, head down.

  “Why don’t you try calling your mom?” Carol suggested.

  “She’s dead,” Emma said, her tone changing from sorrow to contempt.

  Carol knew that Emma’s mother was alive and had left the party not too long ago. Emma might be angry with her, but it was no excuse to speak that way about her. All of the pity Carol had for Emma dissipated, replaced by agitation.

  “Well we’re just about to close, you’d better figure something out within the next few minutes,” Carol said sharply and walked away.

  Emma pulled out her cell phone and stared at it. She thought about calling Jane. She started dialing the numbers and hit the ‘end call’ button. There was no way she would ride with that fat whore. Emma was furious. First Jane made her late to her own party by not driving her then she crashed the party and embarrassed her even

  more, and then, on top of everything else, she went on a date—with the photographer, no less—instead of driving her home. She would

  never call Jane, never talk to her again. Come Monday morning, she would call her father and ask if she could live with him instead.

  Emma reviewed the names of friends and contacts in her phone, hoping to come across someone reliable who’d be able to help her out. Most, if not all, of her friends were mad at her. Her friend

  Lacey who hadn’t attended the party was away. MaryBeth had mono and Pam had moved away last year. She scrolled down the alphabetical list desperately. It was looking grim. The last name on the list, Zachary, was Jane’s friend. Her family used to spend a lot of time at Zachary’s house when her dad was around. She used to play with Zachary’s son Scott. He was sort of slow, but nice.

  “Two minutes,” Carol warned firmly, poking her head out from around the corner.

  Emma felt funny about calling Zachary, especially at that late hour, but she was desperate. She dialed his number and waited as the phone rang. Just before the third ring, a woman answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Connor?”

  “Yes,” Colleen answered, wondering who was calling them so late.

  “It’s Emma, Emma Winston,” Emma said shyly.

  Colleen was not too thrilled to be talking to Emma after everything she had heard about her. Still, she was curious as to why Emma was calling her after midnight. She began to worry that something had happened to Jane.

  “What’s the matter, Emma? Is your mom all right?”

  Emma scowled, thankful that Colleen couldn’t see her. Why did people only care about how Jane was? What about her? She had just had the absolute worst night of her entire life and here, Colleen was asking if Jane was all right!

  “Emma? You still there?” Colleen asked after a short pause.

  “I’m here,” she answered nervously, “I’m stranded at Sierra Gardens.”

  “I thought your mom was heading over there. She panicked over missing your calls,” Colleen replied, as she began to fear that something might have happened to Jane on the way there. Zachary was close enough to hear the conversation from Colleen’s end and he, too, worried that something had happened to Jane. He had a concerned look upon his face and was about to ask Colleen a

  question, but she held up her hand, gesturing for him to wait a second.

  “She was here and then left,” Emma said, careful not to mention the scene she had caused or the fact that she had assaulted Jane with a vase full of flowers.

  “I don’t understand,” Colleen said, “didn’t she know you needed a ride?”

  “She went out with the photographer,” Emma said, making it seem as though Jane had abandoned her to go on a date.

  Colleen looked puzzled.

  “What?” Zachary whispered to her. She hushed him with a quick “shhh.”

  “But did she know that you neede
d a ride home?” Colleen asked again, realizing that Emma had evaded the question.

  “Yes,” Emma lied. Colleen had a feeling that she wasn’t being truthful. She exhaled loudly making it readily apparent that she was annoyed.

  “I’ll send Zach to get you,” Colleen said impassively.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Connor,” Emma replied and disconnected the call. She was glad that she wouldn’t have to walk home in her fancy dress.

  Colleen quickly relayed the conversation to Zachary and asked him to get dressed and rescue Emma from Sierra Gardens. He was both perplexed and annoyed.

  Carol and three of her remaining staff members approached Emma.

  “Any luck?” Carol asked dryly.

  “My dad will be here soon,” she answered, lying once again.

  “When? We have to lock up now, you can’t wait in here,” she said, looking at Emma in her thin, sleeveless dress. It was a cold night. Carol thought about letting Emma wait inside. What’s another ten or twenty minutes? But then she remembered the girl’s nasty attitude. She’ll survive, she thought, as she opened the front door and walked out, followed by her staff members. She held the door open, waiting impatiently for Emma to leave.

  Emma sauntered out slowly, dragging her feet.

  The cold air caught Emma off guard and she gasped as walked out, her skin instantly covering with prickly goose bumps. She

  wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

  “It’s so cold out here,” she said in a quivering voice. One of Carol’s staff members looked back at her and rolled her eyes.

  Everyone else ignored her, dispersing to their vehicles. They didn’t even say goodbye.

  Emma waited in the cold, shivering for just under twenty minutes before she saw the headlights of Zachary’s car as it pulled into the parking lot. She hurried over to climb in.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Connor,” she said as she fastened her seatbelt.

  “So your mom just left you here?” he asked, knowing better than that.

  “I waited and waited,” Emma said, skirting around the question.