Dear Diary...

by L. M. Reed

  Chapter 11

  Dear Diary,

  Mom and I are okay.

  CeeCee

  After making up my mind to talk to Mom right away, I headed downstairs in search of her. I found Mark and Nick sitting in the living room discussing their plans for the next day.

  “CeeCee!” Mark jumped up to hug me. “What were you thinking, running off like that without even taking your cell phone?”

  “I’m sorry, Mark, truly…sorrier than you know, but right now I need to talk to Mom,” I smiled at him apologetically.

  I ignored Nick. I hadn’t ‘played nicely’. Add breaking promises to my growing list of sins.

  “She’s in the kitchen.”

  Mom sat at the kitchen table, staring at the undisturbed birthday cake. I didn’t know exactly how to begin, how to fix the massive mess I’d made, and I certainly wouldn’t blame her if she couldn’t forgive me, but I had to try.

  “Mom…?” I began tentatively.

  “Do you remember the year you wanted a puppy for your birthday?” Mom asked in a curiously dead voice, still staring at the cake.

  “My eighth birthday,” I replied in bewilderment.

  “You never knew why you couldn’t have one.”

  It was almost like she didn’t have enough energy left to inject any life in her voice.

  That scared me. It was even worse than I had expected. She couldn’t bring herself to even look at me.

  “Dad told me he thought I was too young to be responsible for that big of a commitment,” I reminded her.

  “That wasn’t the true reason. I was the reason you didn’t get a puppy,” she paused and then asked, “What year was the bike?”

  “My ninth birthday,” I responded carefully, not sure where the conversation was going. “Dad said he didn’t see anything wrong with the old one and painted it for me.”

  “I wouldn’t let him buy you a new bike, either…the laptop?”

  “The end of my eighth grade year,” the conversation was getting weird. “Not enough money.”

  “I was the reason for all of those, plus some I probably don’t even remember, but I’m sure that you do,” she paused again. “Your father would have bought you anything you ever asked for, but I wouldn’t let him.”

  “Is this the part where I ask why?”

  I could feel anger building in me, but I tried to subdue it.

  “Only if you want to know the answer,” Mom had injected a bit more life in her voice, “there’s no reason to hide the truth now that James is gone.

  “Okay, I want to know the truth, I want to know why Dad was always taking the brunt of my anger, while you were hiding in the wings,” I demanded, more than a little upset.

  “First, I’ll explain my reasons for denying you what you wanted; after that I’ll explain why Dad always took the blame. They are two totally different things,” I was impatient for her to get on with it, but she seemed at a loss for a moment.

  After a few minutes she continued, “I am deathly afraid of dogs…not just scared, literally terrified, because I was attacked by a neighbor’s Chihuahua when I was very young. I still have the scars. Your father didn’t know about that until he mentioned that he had promised you a dog. I went ballistic. That’s why he changed his mind, went back on his promise to you. I didn’t want him to buy you a new bike because the only reason you wanted one was to keep up with, um, what was that little girl’s name?”

  “Serena,” I supplied.

  “Yes, that was the one. I never liked her. She was a snobby little girl…malicious and manipulative, just like…anyway, I didn’t want you to be like her. The laptop thing was similar, but it was more than that. Mark had to wait until college to get one and as much as your dad wanted to give in and get you one, too, I thought you should have to wait. Your dad gave into you more than I wanted him to and you were becoming spoiled. I was all for moving. I just prayed it wasn’t too late to keep you from becoming another Serena.”

  Mom stopped and rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. She probably did…my fault again, no doubt.

  “I understand now that I was spoiled, but I didn’t see it at the time. Everyone I hung around with always got whatever they wanted, and that made it feel…normal. I was too young to see how bad it was for me, but I still don’t see why Dad was always playing the bad guy.”

  As much as I understood her reasons, I wasn’t about to let her off the hook for being a coward.

  “Your dad was always a little…protective of me. There are some things your dad and I never told you, things about when we first met, but they have a lot to do with the fact that your dad refused to ever let me ‘play the bad guy’ as you put it.”

  “Dad wouldn’t let you take responsibility for your own decisions?”

  Why was I not surprised? Dad had always been overprotective of Mom.

  “When we first met, your father hurt me…emotionally, not physically. Then, because I fell in love with him, some other people caused me physical as well as emotional pain. For whatever reason, he blamed himself for all of it. I can’t go into details…”

  I interrupted, “Can’t or won’t?”

  Mom looked at me for the first time since I had entered the kitchen.

  “Okay, won’t then. I was in bad shape for a while, and your dad was never able to forget that, or forgive himself for it, no matter what I said. He vowed to himself that he would protect me from hurt. He never wanted to see me in that much pain again.”

  I was catching her drift and I didn’t like it.

  “Dad felt he had to protect you from me?”

  “CeeCee,” Mom’s voice gentled, “How many times did you tell your father you hated him?”

  Tears filled my eyes at the question.

  “I never meant it.”

  “I know that, and deep down so did Dad. You’ve always been very intense; you get that from him. I told him it was just a type of manipulation you had learned from your…friends, but he… well, he became very good at heading you off before you could make it to me,” she smiled, “You know he would have given you the moon if I had let him.”

  “I loved him,” I said tearfully.

  “He knew that,” Mom assured me, “You told him frequently.”

  “More often than I said…the other thing…?”

  I was almost afraid to ask.

  “Try to count the number of times he said ‘Ditto Kiddo’ to you and that should tell you something,” Mom smiled. “You know he only said that to you when you told him you loved him first.” Mom gave me a second to digest that. ”You just resorted to the ‘other thing’ when he refused to give you something you wanted, which was not often, mainly when I put my foot down. You get your intensity from your dad, but your temper is all me.” Mom even chuckled a little at that. Soberly she added, “I had to work hard at not taking advantage of him myself because he could never deny me anything I wanted either. I couldn’t even wish out loud for something the way most people do for fear that your dad would kill himself trying to get it for me.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve been so…awful,” I couldn’t possibly think of a word terrible enough to describe the way I had been acting, so I had to settle. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t mean any of what I said at the hospital.”

  “Did you know that your dad wanted me to put him in a facility?”

  Mom looked pained.

  “He wanted that?”

  “If you stop and think about it, CeeCee, you will see that it makes perfect sense when taken in context with everything else I’ve told you,” Mom stopped and looked at me expectantly.

  “He was worried about you,” I concluded.

  “And you,” Mom added.

  “Me!” I exclaimed in surprise. “But I wasn’t the one wearing myself out taking care of him, you were.”

  “That was exactly his point. I was so busy having to take care of him that I ne
glected myself and you.” She shook her head sadly. “He was right, you know. I neglected you.”

  “You’re not going to blame yourself for my idiotic behavior,” I told her angrily. “I am responsible for that.”

  “Well this last week I didn’t help much.”

  I couldn’t argue with her on that one. She continued.

  “I managed to get all of your birthday preparations done while I was at school, but I dreaded coming home to an empty house every evening so I found some volunteer work to do. I didn’t want to tell you because I…well I didn’t want to admit my reasons even to myself, much less to you,” she admitted sheepishly. “I’ve had so much to do for so long, I didn’t know what to do with my free time, and if I had let myself just sit around I knew I would start feeling sorry for myself. I developed guilt feelings for abandoning you this week so I went a little overboard with your party.”

  “The party was great, Mom, I just had such a shock when I saw the laptop. It reminded me of the horrid things I had said to Dad because he wouldn’t let me have one years ago.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit anymore to Mom, but since we were communicating for the first time in a long time, I didn’t want anything to be left unsaid.

  “I told him I wished he were…dead,” I finished on a whisper.

  Mom stood up and hugged me then.

  “CeeCee, you know you had nothing to do with Dad getting sick and dying.”

  I couldn’t help it. I let loose with the crying again. When I was through, I noticed that she was not dry-eyed either. We smiled at each other through our tears.

  “Guess we should go join Mark and Nick,” Mom decided, blotting her eyes and leading the way. “They’re probably wondering what’s going on in here.”

  I hesitated a moment, swiping at my own eyes with the back of my hands then followed her into the living/dining room.

  They were indeed wondering, I could tell by the looks on their faces, but they didn’t ask.

  “I hate to talk and run,” I paraphrased, avoiding their eyes, “but…”

  “Go,” Mom commanded, then smiled to let me know it was all good.

  “If you don’t mind giving me a few minutes, I’ll go with you,” Mark offered.

  “That would be great!”

  I smiled at him gratefully, making sure he knew I wanted him to come. We needed to talk.