Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Marion scuttles off back into the bedroom. It hurts, but I can’t blame her. She’s sweeping up hair at a salon. She’s the only one who might not be able to afford her own place, even without giving up most of her paycheck to Mom.
“Mom,” Kitty cries. “Don’t be mean to her. She’s our sister.”
“She’s no daughter of mine,” she spits. “She always was a troublemaker. She’s a little bitch. She’s probably been sleeping in a bus shelter since she left here. She’s got a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving. And that’s what she deserves. Hell!”
I laugh. I can’t help it. Years of pent-up frustration just spills out of me and it comes out as laughter. I don’t know why, but she seems so pathetic, spouting off the most awful things about her daughter. A daughter who’s devoted her life to her.
It’s so clear to me. The lack of love and care is everywhere. It’s not that she’s selfish and mean and cruel. She doesn’t love us. Doesn’t care if we live or die. A part of me dies at the realization, but the rest of me is free—truly free.
“Do you see it?” I ask Kitty and Lydia. “You only exist to serve her. If you escape, she doesn’t want to know you. Because you no longer serve a purpose.”
“That’s right,” Mom interrupts. “That’s why they’re here. With me. You can get out.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask my sisters, ignoring Mom. “To be stuck serving a woman who’d disown you as soon as you do something she doesn’t like—like try and create a life for yourself?”
Panic and fear fill Lydia’s and Kitty’s faces, but they don’t flee to the bedroom. Part of them wants to hear this.
“There’s a way out. And I can help you,” I say. I’m sure I can get them jobs at the Colorado Club. What’s left of my savings could get them cheap flights out to Colorado. It would be tight, but I could do it. “It’s frightening. I get it. But when you’re ready—when you see what she’s really like and you decide you don’t want to put up with it anymore—I’ll be waiting.”
“That’s it, get out of this house.” Mom stands and moves toward me. I don’t need to know what happens if I say no. I’ve said what I came to say.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth to Lydia and Kitty. I need to leave. I haven’t gotten my things or even the papers to the trailer that I came for, but I’ll have to figure out another way. There’s no way I can force my way into the bedroom and start going through things. Even if I technically still own this trailer, my mother will find a way to punish me or my sisters. I hadn’t planned for things to go like this, but I know I’ve done the right thing. I’ve given my sisters an alternative to the life they have. Hopefully, I’ve planted a seed, given them something to think about, convinced them that life beyond this trailer and Mom is possible.
Mom steps toward me, and I back away. She grins, like my acquiescence fuels her power—like she’s only happy when I’m weak. Except I’m not. Not anymore. Because I’ve found a place where I’m free of her.
I bolt out the door, sick to my stomach with the scent of orange and the hatred in my mother’s eyes.
I get to the bottom of the steps and am about to head to the exit to call a cab when something catches my eye. I turn my head to see Marion at the window. She’s waving furiously at me. When she sees I’ve spotted her, she points her fingers down.
I can hear my mother shouting inside the trailer. Marion drops the curtain and disappears.
I glance down where she was pointing and see something on the ground, outside the bedroom window. It looks like she’s dropped a bag of something—two bags of—
I race over and realize Marion has stuffed my belongings in trash bags and dropped them out the window. Mom didn’t burn all my stuff. I don’t know if she thinks she did or if she was bluffing, but Marion saved this for me.
As quick as I can, I gather up the spilled items. I don’t stop to examine anything, but it feels like I’m stuffing an entire lifetime of memories into two shopping bags. School pins, greeting cards, the odd certificate. A high school diploma. I pick up the bags and scramble to the exit of the park before I call an Uber. I don’t want there to be a chance Mom figures out I have everything I need from that trailer. There’s nothing more I want from her.
In the car back to the motel, I pull out a dream catcher I made for Marion when she was born. I hold it to my chest. When Mom was pregnant with Marion, I couldn’t wait to have a baby sister. I was desperate for someone of my own. Someone to love. Kitty and Lydia had been born when I was too little to understand what was going on around me. When Marion was born, I used to wake up and feed her in the night. I liked when it was just the two of us in the dark. I’d tell her stories of princesses and knights in shining armor, dragons slayed and fairy-tale castles. I sang to her. I rocked her. I loved her. I was the mother to her I never had.