Well, thanks for that, I wanted to say. This conversation went nowhere. I knew I shouldn’t have answered the phone.
“Sure, yeah,” I muttered. “I understand.”
“Don’t do that please,” he pleaded. “I want to talk more, but my plate is full right now, Kandy. I swear.”
I bit my bottom lip, fighting emotion.
“Call me if you need anything. You know I’m here.”
“I will,” I said, but deep down, it felt like a lie. Would I call him again? And for what? Just to talk about Kelly? The past? How much my dad has probably fucked up his life, all because of me? On the phone with him, it felt like the passion had faded and I hated it. I hated it so much.
Tears burned the rims of my eyes, but I bit them back.
“Talk to you later,” he said softly.
“Later.” My voice broke, but I hung up before he could say anything else. I shut my eyes, ignoring the fire behind my eyelids, breathing in and out repeatedly until I felt stable enough to open my eyes.
I had two choices. I could either sit on the bench and pathetically cry into my own hands, or go and find Morgan and Gina and pretend the call I had with Cane never happened.
My feet moved before my heart could decide for me.
Chapter Sixteen
CANE
Here I was again.
Back at Polly Heights Rehabilitation Center.
I hated this place. I’d lost count of how many times I’d come here to visit my mother. Last year, after several attempts of begging and bribing her with better things for her future, she’d checked in twice. This year, only once, but she’d been inside for a while now. Five months to be exact. In one month, she would be out, and I prayed she wouldn’t resort to the old shit. Change is hard to come by, but my mother could do it. She wasn’t the strongest, but she was resilient.
Lora and I were seated at one of the cafeteria tables, the blue chair beneath me too damn hard to get comfortable in. Lora flipped through a magazine, legs crossed, chomping on a wad of gum. The gum chewing was a nervous habit. She was pretending to be okay with being there, but I knew she was nervous to see Mama again after so much time apart. She hadn’t seen her in over two years.
“How the hell is anyone supposed to get comfortable waiting in here,” Lora grumbled, slapping the magazine shut. “The coffee is fucking cold and they’re out of cinnamon rolls.” She pulled her gum out of her mouth, stamping it down on the magazine with the pad of her thumb.
I sighed and flipped my wrist to check the time. “She should be coming out any minute now.”
Several minutes later, the double doors buzzed and they automatically opened. Several of the patients scurried into the visitation room, some of them a little too jumpy and some of them seeming too sluggish to function, most likely from the meds.
They met up at the tables with their loving visitors, some smiling, some frustrated, others looking as if they had no clue what was going on. Several more trickled in, and that’s when I saw Mama.
I’m sure my eyes were as wide as saucers. “Shit.”
“Shit is right,” Lora breathed.
Mama walked into the room without so much as a fidget or a scratch, staring right at us with a bold, white smile—a smile I hadn’t seen her wear in years. I saw this smile often when she was sober—back when her life was content and peaceful without Buck in it.
The sight of it made my stomach flip, the memories of the good old days hitting me hard. I remembered when it was only the three of us in a two-bedroom apartment. Mama would make pancakes and cut up some fresh fruit every Sunday before she went in to work, and Lora and me would hang out at the pool, or at Killian’s unauthorized tattoo parlor in his garage down the street.
She was sober for three years straight back then. Not a drop of liquor, not a sniff of coke, not a shot of heroin. There was no Buck, only us. Though she’d worked several jobs, she still smiled and had fun. She lived her life. She took care of us…then he came back and ruined everything. He was always coming and going. The longest he’d stayed away was those three years. I never understood why he returned.
“Oh my goodness,” Mama cooed when she met up to the other side of the table, her eyes fixed on Lora.
Lora and I stood. Putting on a coy smile, Lora said, “Hi, Mama.”
“Nah-uh. Don’t do that.” Mama hurried around the table, her arms spread wide. “Get over here, baby. Come hug me!”
Lora pushed her chair back with the backs of her legs, walking straight into Mama’s arms. They hugged for a long time, making up for the two-year absence. “Look at you,” Mama sighed. “Still so beautiful. And I love this hair color on you! My baby girl!” she cooed, pressing her cheek to Lora’s. “I’ve missed you so much!” She kissed Lora on the forehead and Lora laughed.