Scars

 “Family is important,” her voice comes through the speakers of my cell phone in the same tone that used to send a chill up my spine as a child. I didn't need to have her in front of me to see her disapproving glare. A wave of disbelief passes over me at her choice of words and I can't help but note that family wasn't important to her when I needed it to be. Clearly, this is a recent development. Too little too late if you ask me, but she won't- ask me, that is. She never does. I turn my gaze out the window, hoping to steal some peace from the view of my backyard, a space that I'd worked hard to turn into an oasis. The sight of it provides me with some relief, though it is short-lived.

“Kate needs her family, this kind of thing isn't good for her.” She continues, seemingly unaware of the havoc her words are wreaking on my fragile psyche. She waits patiently for a response and I reach for something to say, but find nothing appropriate. I'd like to ask if she offered the same plea to Kate after she'd turned her back on me years ago, but there is no point. I already know her answer; she didn't tell Kate anything because they'd abandoned me together. My well-being is just not as important to her as my sister's. Actually, she doesn't seem to care much about me at all. I sigh miserably and glance over to the kitchen table where my lunch sits, untouched. My laptop is next to it, still open to the spreadsheet I'd been busy preparing for work when she'd called. I don't have time for this.

Suddenly, I hear the other line buzz through. Thank God. I've never been so happy to hear from a solicitor before. I jump at the chance to escape from this call that is destroying what's left of my self-worth, “that's the other line, Mom, I've got to go. I'll call you later, okay?” I won't be calling her back. I end both calls with a swipe of my finger and walk over to the table. My head is still spinning from the call. Moving across the country from them was not nearly far enough. Maybe if I'd gone all the way across the globe, to a place so far that one of us would be sleeping while the other was awake, I'd have been able to limit contact to texts and email. I sit down in front of my plate only to find that I've lost my appetite. A single tear falls down my cheek and I try to resist the old pains as they come rushing to the surface but fail miserably. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them tightly as tears turn to sobs and my emotions overtake me. I drop my head and give in to them.

After a few minutes, I come up for air. Resting my head against the back of the chair, I raise my hand to my heart. It hurts so badly I can't help but wonder if it's broken. My mom's words keep playing in my head over and over. Once again, she has taken my sister's side without even asking to hear mine. She has the nerve to say that it's not good for Kate, she needs her family- without even a hint of irony. It's as though she's forgotten that they both abandoned me when I needed them the most. I'd laugh at the hypocrisy of it if it wasn't so painful. If she'd bothered to ask, I'd have happily informed her that I hadn't cut Kate off at all- though, to be honest, I'm seriously considering it now. The truth is her precious first-born is a liar. We got into a fight and instead of apologizing, as she should have, Kate decides to go around lying about me. This is nothing new, she does stuff like this all the time. Maybe, if our mom hadn't let her get away with it her whole life, she would have grown up by now. Maybe she wouldn't still be throwing temper tantrums at forty years old.

Why am I letting them get to me, anyway? This is what they do, I know that. I run my fingers through my hair and try to shake it off. But then the same thought starts to run through my head that always does when my mom and sister get like this: I never should have reconnected with them eight years ago. It was the seventh month of my pregnancy when my sister reached out. I'd wanted my daughter to have all of her family; I was sentimental and weak. I put up a wall and thought it would be enough to protect myself and keep the pain out. I was a fool, it didn't work at all. Fresh tears threaten to fall, I squeeze my eyes shut to try and head them off. If I'd only known, I could have saved myself the hurt that is somehow worse the second time around.

I wince as a flash of pain reverberates through my head. Sitting and stewing like this is giving me a headache. I get up from the chair, exit the kitchen, and head for the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. Once there, I lean into the mirror and squint at my reflection. My eyes are red and puffy, and I see that I've cried off all my eyeliner. Forget Mom. Forget Kate too. They don't deserve me and they definitely don't deserve the energy I'm giving them. Ugh, imagine if they knew how much they were getting to me right now, they'd just love it. I start the water and empty my mind, choosing to focus solely on the sensation of the cold water on my skin.

I dry my face with a towel, enjoying the brief moment of peace, that is until my eyes settle on the small, delicate cross that sits on the wall. A gift from my dad, the sight immediately stirs thoughts of him. If he was still here, this would be a good time to send him a text, Guess what your ex-wife just did... But he's not; he committed suicide four years ago. Somehow it still feels like yesterday to me. My heart twinges and I wish I hadn't thought of him in this state. He was the only person I could trust, the only one I knew had my best interests at heart. Without him, I've felt so lost. We hadn't had a perfect relationship and were nowhere near as close and my mom and Kate, but he was there whenever I needed him. That's what matters most, isn't it? I always thought so. At least until he betrayed me. That's what his suicide felt like; a betrayal, and it completely destroyed life as I knew it.

Never before have I experienced pain like that. I didn't even know it was possible to hurt so much. One day, he was there and everything was fine. The next, he's gone and I'm all alone. I didn't even get a warning. I will never recover, the person I was before died right along with him. Ever since it happened, my grief from the loss and my anger at his betrayal have been battling it out, each seeking dominance but never fully achieving it, and they show no signs of stopping. It's exhausting. Meanwhile, I'm left with my mom and sister, who seem to have made a game of making me feel like I have no one at all. I wasn't ready to be alone, not even close. Didn't he realize that? Didn't he know how much I relied on him? He was the only one there for me so many years ago, when everything went dark and I was almost lost to my sorrow. It's hard to believe he didn't know that he was my rock. But apparently, he didn't and I'm just crazy. Because if he truly knew how much I still needed him, there is no way he would have done what he did. At least, that's what I tell myself.

Stop. I shake my head in an attempt to rid my mind of these thoughts. I need to get it together, Grace will be home from school soon. I open the drawer that holds my makeup and go to work camouflaging the red splotches with some concealer and loose powder. I know I'll feel better when I see Grace's beautiful face, I always do. We'll play and then she'll do her homework while I finish up my work. When Reeve gets home, we'll all head over to the Nillson's for dinner, something I've been looking forward to all week. Why let my mom and sister ruin it for me? I won't. I'm not going to let them pull me back into their chaos. I finish up and walk down the stairs, reaching the bottom just as my daughter opens the front door.

“Mommy!” She cries out happily when she sees me, her face lights up the front hall.

“Grace!” I exclaim and wrap my arms around her. “How was your day, sweetheart?” I ask.

She cheerfully recounts her day as we walk towards the kitchen for an after school snack. Well, I walk, Grace makes her way in a series of excited bounces and hops as she describes the best parts. Already a storyteller, she brings me on a journey of Greek and Roman gods, a rowdy game of Bamboozled, and her new best friend, Emma. Her words warm my heart, her zest for life inspires me, and I start to feel whole again. My dad left me alone with my mom and sister- who, let's face it, are barely better than nothing at all- but that is only one part of my life. I have so much more- all I need to do is remember that fact, whenever I start to forget.