“Eventually, I started seeing her regularly at the library. After a week, I realized she hadn’t changed clothes, her hair was still grimy, and quite frankly, she stank. But there was something in her eyes. A spark when she looked at me that enraptured me. One day, I asked her to come home with me, offered to help her out of whatever she was hiding from. Again, she didn’t deny what was going on, so I got her clean, fed, and a roof over her head. The days turned into weeks, and I enjoyed having her there. She helped me through my schooling, cleaned my house, cooked our meals, and had a knack for art.”
“Where is this going, Mr. Banks? This is telling us nothing other than she lied to you the same way she lied to us. She wasn’t homeless by circumstance. She was homeless by choice. Her husband, my father, never touched her with a harsh finger. Ever. She destroyed him, and she’ll destroy you, too,” I said with malice filling every crevice of space.
Kent shook his head dramatically. “No, please. Just listen. There are things you don’t know.”
Max leaned forward, his reply as sharp as a knife’s blade. “The point? Get there.”
Kent lifted his hands in supplication. “I noticed after a couple months that she started doing strange things. Irrational things. I’d come home, and the entire kitchen floor would be covered in flour, and she’d be dancing like a ballerina in it. Now, normal people don’t do those type of things at all. Meryl, on the other hand, did them regularly. Another time, she had poured Palmolive onto the wood floor and was using the floor as a slip and slide.”
“Yep, that would be our mother. She did that stuff all the time. Give us ice-cream for dinner. Take us outside in the freezing cold to dance in the rain during a storm. Pops worked a lot back then, to make sure she could have everything she wanted, so he didn’t see as much of it. When he’d come home, she’d often go off to the casino to dance in a show. They were like ships passing in the night for a lot of years.”
Kent nodded. “So you saw it. The strange behavior. More than strange, downright manic. As if some of her screws were all of a sudden loosened. She’d be higher than high to the point I’d worry she was on drugs, or lower than low, and it would take an act of God to get her out of bed.”
“That’s putting it mildly, Mr. Banks.” I remembered a million times as a child when my mother acted crazy instead of the mother she should have been. None of that mattered, though, because we loved her.
“What does this have to do with her now?” Max interrupted.
“Everything. It took a lot of convincing, but finally I got her examined. Did you know your mother is severely bipolar?” Kent asked. The table was so quiet you could hear our breathing.
“Bipolar. Like depression?” Max asked.
Kent shook his head solemnly. “She suffers from depression, yes, but it’s more than that. She has mood swings. Her moods shift so rapidly and deeply that she needs heavy medication to cope. She does really well on her meds. Can hold a job. Through the process we found she’s a gifted painter and is able to live a happy, quiet life. Here in Aspen with me. Her moods still shift, she still suffers from the depression and the mania, but on her medication, the cycles are less severe and occur less often. The medication controls them to a degree.” Kent took a deep breath, appearing to gather his thoughts, seemingly knowing that what he had to say next wasn’t going to be well received.
“I don’t know that she could have done that before. The woman she was back then, the woman she was when I met her, would have never been able to raise a child without medication. Her condition was severe and had clearly gone untreated—and there is no way to self-treat—for the better part of her life. I am not surprised at some of the things she did.”
My eyes narrowed on him.
Again, his hands came up in a placating gesture. “I’m not saying that what she did to any of you was right. What I am saying is that untreated, in a manic state, she could have thought it perfectly logical to take her children outside in the winter to dance in the rain during a storm. Mania creates its own logic, its own justification as to why something is necessary. And it can make absolute total sense.
“During those years, in her mania, while she might have felt completely justified in her actions, when the manic phase ended, and the depressive phase started, what she would then realize is that her kids were or had been wet, and cold, and hungry, and that, at best, she was a failure as a mother and, at worst, a danger to her children. She bears the cross of her mistakes every day of her life.” He shook his head when the rest of us didn’t respond.
I personally had no idea what to say. So many thoughts, feelings, and emotions clouded my judgment, clawed at my insides. I needed time to think. Time to process.
“Now, even though the other day put her into a state, she still wants to see you. She doesn’t know the rest of you are here, though I imagine she’ll want to see you as well. Explain. Apologize. But you are all adults now with an adult’s insight. You can’t forget what happened in the past, but maybe you’ll understand. She’s first, and most important, my wife. Has been for close to fourteen years—”
I cut him off. “You do realize that you are not officially married. She never divorced my father.” My voice was low, but it held a biting edge.
Kent nodded. “I get that our marriage is not legal, but legalities don’t matter much to me. I’ve been protecting that woman this long, and I will continue to do so until I take my last breath. So if all you want to do is tear her down, I think it’s best we leave well enough alone and just go our separate ways.” He laid his hands on the table in a gesture of finality.
Max stood up with a hand out. “Let me talk with my sisters. We’ll discuss this and be in contact later this evening.”
Kent stood, shook Max’s hand, and zipped up his coat. “I look forward to hearing from you. I know that you’re all hurting and that what I said today comes as a shock. It did to me, too, but sometimes life does that to you. It’s how you handle the hurt that defines your character.” Those were Kent’s departing words. After he spoke, he turned and walked out the door, not looking back.
Max sat down with a heavy sigh. “So what are you thinking?”
My eyebrows rose. “Wes, baby, a round of tequila please?” I called out.
“I got you,” he said in return, placing our order. He did have me. Lock, stock, and shiny engagement ring-laden finger.
Maddy smirked. “The last time you drank too much tequila you ended up having a sex-fest in the other room with the tatted Samoan hottie, not realizing I was there.” Maddy reminded me of the drunken night with Tai back in Hawaii. Sex-fest. Only my baby sister would come up with something so innocent to describe a filthy, dirty, porn-worthy night of fucking.
I shoved her arm. “Do not repeat that within earshot of Wes,” I whispered through her cherry-vanilla smelling hair.
Max grinned and closed his eyes. “Not the picture I want to see in my head right now. I appreciate the deflection, but what do you guys think of what that yo-yo said about our mother?”
I sighed and hugged Maddy closer to my side, wanting her support, thinking she might need mine as well. “Honestly, I’m not sure. It makes a whole lot of sense. Everything he said about her strange behavior is true. The highs with Mom were as high as the stars above, but the lows? They were hard to deal with and easy to come by. We never knew what we were going to get with her. On average, when she wasn’t in what he’d call a manic or severely depressed state, she would be changing jobs, putting us into debt, forgetting things like picking us up from school, or cooking things to ash because she wouldn’t remember that she had something in the oven. The behavior I recall fits with what he described.”
“Does that change how you think of her?” This was the million-dollar question.
I shrugged. “Maybe. Perhaps a little. It definitely helps me understand why she was the way she was. It doesn’t explain why she up and left. Why she didn’t talk to a doctor about her problems. Get help. By the time she left us, she was well into h
er thirties. How could a disease like that go unnoticed for so long? I hate myself for saying so, but it seems awfully convenient.”
Maddy chose that moment to chime in. “If she wasn’t in her right mind, Mia, maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she believed she was saving us? That she knew something was wrong with her.”
Max’s jaw clenched. “That wouldn’t answer why she’d leave me as a toddler, but stay with your dad for ten years.”
“No it doesn’t. Unless your dad saw something mine didn’t. Urged her to get help, and she avoided it.”
“I guess we won’t know until we speak with her. Should I call Kent and see about a time to meet? I’d like to get this done before Christmas, before the rest of your family arrives. What about the Matt’s family? Are they coming?” Max asked Maddy.
She shook her head. “Nope. Since Matt has me and all of us, they took a holiday cruise they’ve been dying to take. They’d never wanted Matt to be alone, but now that he’s not, they asked if it would bother us for them to go. I told them to enjoy, that we’d be spending it with you guys this year since it’s our first. Next year though, we’ll want to have all of us. If that’s okay.” She tilted her chin down and looked at me and then at Max.
I smiled and gripped her chin forcing her to look at me. “Hey, your family with Matt is just as important as Wes’s and Cyndi’s. Okay? We’ll do our best to get together for the holidays and make it as even as we can. Heck, there’s plenty of room here. And with Wes’s and Max’s plans for the two ranches, there will be plenty of room in Texas, too.”
Her eyes widened. “What plans?”
Max grinned and steepled his hands under his chin. “Wes wants to buy one of the farm houses and the land next to our home.”
“You’re moving to Texas?” Maddy started wiggling in her seat like she had ants in her pants.
“Ugh. No, yes. Kind of. Max, you suck!” I pointed an accusing finger at him. He just smirked. “Wes wants to have a home away from home. What better place than where Max and his family are? And since you and Matt will be looking to move to Texas in a couple years, that’s where you’ll be.”
“Oh my god! This. Is. Awesome! I’m going to have my brother and sister in the same place.” She smiled so wide it made the dark room seem brighter.
Wes made his way over with a tray of tequila shots. Not three. A tray. Full. He set the tray down, pulled up a chair, and sat. Matt slid into the booth next to Max. “I heard there was some drinking that needed to commence. Shall we?” Wes grinned. I loved that grin. It spoke of lightheartedness, naked times in bed, and lazy Sundays ahead of me. Endless days of being loved and loving in return. That’s what my life would be like with Wes as my husband. I could not wait.
We each picked up a shot. “To the future,” I said.
“Endless possibilities.” Maddy beamed.
“To family,” Max finished.
The five of us drank and scarfed down tons of pub food until Matt volunteered to stop drinking and drive us all back. The rest of us kept partying, because we had been collectively delivered a blow about our mother. What was there left to do but live for today? And we did. All night long.
* * *
Kent set up the time for the chat with our mother two days before Christmas. The day weighed heavily on each of us as Max drove us up the gravel drive to a sprawling log cabin mansion, much like the cabin Wes’s family owned. It wasn’t even that far from his. It took all of five minutes to get to Kent and Meryl Banks’s—Banks was the name she was living under now—home.
Kent answered the door and led us into an enormous open living room. There were windows showcasing the view, but not an entire wall like at Wes’s cabin. This one had perfect circular windows like what you’d see in a ship, only much larger than a porthole. These windows had at least a five-foot circumference, maybe more. A set of French doors in the distance, off the modern kitchen, looked like how one would access the outdoor patio. The kitchen had droplights in frosted royal blue that hung down in the all-white kitchen. The only spot of color were the lights and the ceramics on the granite slab counter tops. Everything was ultra-modern yet still felt homey. Touches of fabric broke up the color blocks of white here and there throughout the living room.
The most stunning feature, and the focal point of the room, was a painting hanging above the giant fireplace. It was a lifelike image of the landscape beyond the house, only in the spring when the view would be green and bursting with color. The artist who painted it had serious talent and an incredible eye for detail.
On the far edge of the oversized sectional sat our mother. She wore black leggings and a white chunky sweater. Her hair was so black against the sweater. It shined with almost a deep blue hue from this distance.
“Come, have a seat.” Kent gestured to the couches.
The three of us walked around the back of the couch and sat as one united front directly opposite Meryl. Kent took the seat next to his mate. She gripped his hand and squeezed the second he sat down. I could see the color drain from his fingers as she held him, as though he were the tether to her very sanity. Perhaps he was. Now that I knew her mental status was so fragile.
“Mia, thank you for coming. Maxwell…Madison…” Her voice cracked and tears poured down her cheeks. “It’s so good to see you. I never thought I would again…” She stopped on a choked sob.
Kent handed her a handkerchief, which she used to blot her eyes and nose.
“You look so… God you’re all incredibly beautiful,” she said, awe filling her tone.
I glanced at Maddy to see how she was doing. Her cheeks were tinged with blotches and her nose ran. She wiped it with her sleeve. Me? I had no more tears left to cry. I’d spent years crying over this woman, and more recently, days. I felt dried out…hollow.
“It’s good to finally meet the woman who bore us face-to-face,” Max said, putting an arm around Maddy. “I know for Maddy and me, it’s like the first time.”
Our mother nodded, more tears falling in a river down her face. She cleared her voice. “I know that nothing I can say will ever take away the hurt that I caused…”
I clenched my teeth, not wanting to make this about me, because it wasn’t just about me. She’d left all of us.
“But I’m better now and can understand the damage I’ve done. I know, Mia, that you are very angry with me, and had I known that my leaving would have been worse than my staying, I never would have left.”
“Why did you leave?” I asked the single question I’d been dying to ask for fifteen years.
She licked her lips and sat up straighter. “At the time, I wasn’t thinking clearly. There were more times that I’d find myself standing in the kitchen and not know what I was doing than not. More calls from the school that I hadn’t picked you up. Missed worked without realizing it. One day, I opened my eyes, and I found myself standing in the center of the freeway, walking barefoot toward the desert. I was in my nightgown. Your father was working a night job at the time, and I was between jobs at the casino. You girls were home alone. I had no idea where I was.”
“That sounds horrible,” Maddy spoke up, always the first one to try to mend the hurts of the world and all the people in it.
Meryl nodded. “It was. And those losses of time, the memory lapses all ended in dangerous situations, and I couldn’t figure out how to stop. The last straw was when I was so depressed that I drank an entire bottle of your father’s whiskey. I was convinced he was cheating on me.”
I scoffed. She glanced up and a blush ran up her cheeks.
“I know I was the one that was cheating. Well, I didn’t really know. Most of the time, I was confused where I was and what time I was in. But anyway…that last night I drank the whiskey. I put you two girls in the car, and I got behind the wheel.”
Max’s jaw tightened, and I could almost hear the grinding of his teeth as she spoke.
“Somehow, I drove off the freeway and out into the desert. A Good Samaritan saw my car go off the f
reeway, called the cops, and followed me. Eventually, the car stopped. I’d passed out at the wheel. The cops came, took you girls, and put me in the drunk tank. Your father bailed me out, and I was supposed to face charges of child endangerment and possibly do some jail time. Only—”
“You left,” I finished, digging the knife into her heart with malicious intent.
“I didn’t know I was sick then. No one did.”
Chapter Eight
“And what about me?” Max asked.
I was wondering the same damn thing.
Max clarified. “You left me five years before you met up with Michael Saunders.”
Meryl inhaled slowly and wiped her nose. “You’re right, I did. Jackson was a good man. He wanted to take care of me, raise a family. At the time, I still thought I was going to be a famous dancer. You need to remember, back then, my illness was rampant, chaotic. My thoughts were always jumbled. I thought Jackson wanted to put me in a gilded cage. Tie me down by having his children.”
He huffed. “Tie you down?”
“You’re misunderstanding.” She cried harder. “I got pregnant with you right after meeting Jackson. My disorder was out of control. I didn’t trust anyone. I loved Jackson, but I wasn’t in love with him. Not the forever kind of love. Every day, I was more confused than the next. I didn’t know what was happening. My therapist here told me that it was probably the baby blues, complicated more by my extreme mental state. When a woman’s hormones are up and down like that, and she’s bipolar, the outcome can be disastrous.”
“Yeah, I’d say disastrous about sums it up,” Max said flatly.
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t care, that I didn’t love you, Maxwell. I did. I do! Very much. But I didn’t know how to care for you. I was having all these horrible thoughts about Jackson, about killing myself and you. I did the only thing I could do…” More tears trickled down her face and her nose ran.
“Leave,” he said simply. Those words gutted me and made the snarling beast sitting on my chest pick up its head and take notice.
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