Dating For Decades (16 page)

“It’s okay, Cassie. It’s okay to doubt her and it’s okay to be experiencing these emotions. I’m here for you if you need me.”

The only other person who’s ever said those words to me was Shannon. My eyes feel heavy as they fill with tears, tears that I push back so hard I’m afraid they’ll come pouring out of my ears. He’s staring back at me, those dreamy eyes offering me the comfort I’m so desperately in need of. I want to forget everybody is in this room and wrap my arms around him in an embrace that never ends. I want to thank him for those words and press my lips to his, unable to breathe but not caring because this,
this
is what I needed in my life for all these years. I’ve misjudged him.

 
Maybe I will stay for the class after all. Keith and I can place our mats next to each other and who knows what may happen.
 
I open my mouth to thank him and tell him I’ll stay when he clears his throat and adds, “The group. The group is here for you.”

Of course. Not him.
The group.
 

Chapter

Nineteen

I can’t believe I’m doing this. Something about what Keith said stuck with me and here I am at Sasha’s house, ready to enter into the boxing ring. If this goes anywhere close to how I think it may, a UFC ring may be a better description.

I arrive at Sasha’s at five-thirty. Dinner is at six, and I want to arrive before my mother. I want home-field advantage. If I’m already there laughing and drinking and enjoying myself, I may deal with this better. She’ll be the one intruding, not me.
 

I stand in front of the door, holding a bottle of Coca-Cola. I skipped the wine, considering my mom is a recovering addict. I know she didn’t have an addiction to alcohol, but I don’t want to tempt any further dependencies. Not that I care. However, as I glance down at the bottle, complete with its red label, I can’t help but think of how people talk about how there was cocaine in the product. I know there isn’t, but right now I appreciate the irony.

I knock on the door, swearing at Keith in my head for causing me to question my stubborn attitude. Had I never ran into him at yoga, I probably wouldn’t be here right now. I could be at home on my laptop engrossed in a project. Instead, I’m preparing for an evening of either uncomfortable silence or a roomful of flying accusations. I’m going in with no expectations. Unless the night turning into complete shit can be considered expectation.

The door swings open and Sasha is beaming. It’s clear she’s leaving a fun conversation, and based on her red cheeks, I’m pretty certain she’s been drinking as well. “Why hello there, Cassie!” She yanks the soda out of my arms and pulls me inside. “Welcome to my humble abode. I’m so glad you could make it. And I’m sure your mom is as well.”

She takes my jacket and directs me to the living room. Upon entry, my mother stands up from the couch, straightening her pants and blouse.

She’s exactly like I saw her in the pictures on Facebook. Her hair reminds me of a raincloud, a mix of whites and grays that sweep across her cheeks. Her hair is so long and all one length. As she moves it out of her face her wrinkles become apparent and the bags under her eyes look as though she hasn’t slept in years, which is probably true. A mound of clouds hovers over me and lightning strikes inside as I try to control the beating of my heart back to a normal pace. My stomach twirls in circles, and I wish someone could stop the room from spinning. Every piece of my heart is being ripped apart and put back together, confused by this woman standing before me. This isn’t the woman who didn’t care about me as a child. She doesn’t appear frail and damaged. Or lost and depressed. She’s aged, but she’s
happy
.

What is wrong with this woman? How can she possibly be like this? She’s face-to-face with the girl, now a
woman,
she abandoned more times than I can count. She’s in the same room with her own flesh and blood she chose to refuse her love to and caused years of pain to as a result. I don’t know what to say, so I respond in the only way I know how. “Excuse me.” I race past my mother and into the bathroom where I empty my stomach into the toilet.

This was far from a good idea. From the minute the meeting was suggested I didn’t want to do it. Damn Keith for convincing me to come. I allowed his honey eyes and Zen Buddha aura to infiltrate my fortress and I let my guard down. I thought, sure, I can be the bigger person and try to come to terms with my past, and here I am with my head in the toilet. She can’t know she got to me. She can’t.

“Are you okay, Cassie?” Sasha slightly opens the door, and I turn my head away from her.

“I’m not going to throw up again if that’s what you mean.” My voice is shaking as well as the rest of my body. It’s been years since I’ve thrown up, and I don’t want to do it again anytime soon. “Am I okay otherwise? That remains to be seen.”

“Can I come in?”

I grab some toilet paper and wipe my mouth and then flush the toilet. Cinnamon air freshener is on the back of the tank so I grab that and spray quickly. “Sure. Come in.”

I sit down on the floor against the bathtub and she sits on the toilet seat cover.
 
I’m little grossed out considering I just threw up in there, even if she did put the cover down. “Of all the things that could have happened tonight, I didn’t expect this to be one of them. And the second you walked in, too. I’m sorry.”

“I honestly didn’t know what would happen.” I sweep her apology under the rug. Even though I agreed to this, the entire thing was still her idea, thus, her fault. “I thought I would be here before her.” This doesn’t mean I
wouldn’t
have thrown up. But, at least I would’ve had more time to prepare. My mom practically threw herself on top of me the minute I arrived.

She stands and leans against the counter. “I really hope you plan to stay. Your mom is very concerned about you.”

“Because I threw up? Anytime I felt sick as a kid, she never took care of me. She gave me some Tylenol and told me to lay down and sleep it out. Why is today any different?”

“I don’t know, Cassie, it just is.” She’s eyeing me up and down waiting for a response she’ll never get. “I have a toothbrush that hasn’t been opened in the drawer.” She slides open the drawer and grabs one for me. “Why don’t you freshen up and come join us at the dinner table? If you don’t feel like eating, that’s fine.”

“Thanks for the permission.”

“Come on, Cassie.”

I suppose I’m not coming into this with an open mind at all. I’m still upset she’s been talking with my mom, but I don’t need to treat
her
like this. I want to blame her for all of this, make her the reason I’m falling to pieces in the bathroom, but as she stands here, checking up on me and looking at me with those concerned eyes, I know she only is trying to do what she thinks is best for me. Imagine that, my little cousin taking care of me. She’s a sweetheart and when someone wears their heart on their sleeve, it doesn’t give you permission to break it. She wants me to love my mom like she loves hers. I won’t, but I don’t need to put this on her.
I
still made the decision to come.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to take this out on you. I’ll be right there.”

“Great.” She leans in and gives me an awkward hug. “Thank you.”

I wait for moment after she closes the door before I brush my teeth. Much better. I look at the person staring back at me in the mirror. “You can do this, Cassie. Sit down, eat, chat for an hour, and leave. This is so simple.” I close my eyes, take a deep breath and exhale. Time to face reality.

When I return to the little reunion Sasha has set up, both she and my mom are already seated at the table. My mom is seated on one side, and Sasha on the other. This puts me is smack dab in the middle. I take my seat and while I’m not making eye contact with her, I can feel my mom watching my every move. “Where’s Garrett tonight?” I ask Sasha, avoiding any opportunity to say something to my mother or look in her direction.
 

“He went out with his friends. He thought this should be a family thing.”

I want to ask why my mother is there then because she certainly isn’t my family, but I know this means a lot to Sasha and I told myself in the bathroom I would give this a shot.
 

“You look amazing.” My mother tries to break the ice. I don’t respond. Is she waiting for me to accept the compliment, or offer her one in return? Sure, she looks great. She doesn’t look doped up or like she hasn’t eaten for days. I don’t recognize her and I don’t want to.

“Cassie?”

I turn to Sasha. “What?”

“Why don’t you tell your mom thank you?”

I’m not a three-year-old learning her manners who needs direction. Is this how the entire evening is going to go? My mom will say something, I won’t respond, so Sasha will play the mediator. The only thing I have in common with my mother is we share the same bloodline. Even if we did have something we mutually enjoyed, I wouldn’t want to discuss it with her. We haven’t even begun eating and I’m ready to get out of here. “Thank you.” I turn back to Sasha. “Are you happy?” Sasha frowns and a tinge of regret forms in my belly. “I apologize. I’m a little bit uncomfortable.”

 
I’m sure we all are, which is why no one confirms or denies my statement. I think Sasha expected this to turn out like a great family reunion. My mother and I would see each other and we’d embrace and cry and list all our apologies after years of separation. We’d tell stories about our lives and share our hopes and dreams for the future, one that included us together. That’s the thing about Sasha. She’s a dreamer, and she believes dreams come true. I stopped believing in fairy tales long before I became an adult.

Sasha has prepared a meal of spaghetti and meatballs. I slap some pasta on my plate along with some sauce and sprinkle on a ton of Parmesan cheese, because, come on, that’s the best part. I whirl my fork and spiral some on and take a quick bite. Luckily, I don’t feel like hurling. I think I actually may be a little hungry. I should get a lot of food in my belly because I plan on drinking tonight.

“What are you doing now? I haven’t heard from you since before you started college.” My mom starts right into the conversation, as though we sat down after a day of work and we’re shooting the shit. Old buds, great friends. One fat lie.

I try to figure out a way to get through this. Maybe if I pretend I’m on a job interview this will be easier. If I answer her questions and don’t go into too much detail, I can make it through this. “I’m an IT Manager at a law firm downtown.”

She nods, and I can’t tell if this is because she is impressed, disappointed, or only acknowledging my answer. I don’t offer any further words while she eats a bite of her food. When I think maybe she’s decided not to speak anymore, she asks another question. “How did you pay for college, if you don’t mind my asking?”

 
I kind of do mind her asking, but Sasha is keyed in on me, watching my every reaction, and pleading with her eyes for me not to blow up. I don’t like this interrogation. I haven’t a clue how to make this conversation work, but this isn’t it. My success is no thanks to her. This shouldn’t be a shock. “Financial aid and everything is already paid off. I’ve learned to take care of myself. I learned that a very young age.” I don’t look right at her. I can’t look into those aged eyes without seething at the mouth.

“Hm.” In my peripheral vision, she nods her head again. Her and her damn nodding. My stomach growls at me, but it’s not out of hunger. The bubbles in my belly are stuck in my abdomen and I could really use a Gas-X right about now. I can’t eat another bite as I anticipate her response. Finally, she says, “I got married recently.”

Is this supposed to impress me? What am I supposed to say?
For years, you slept with every man you possibly could and didn’t even stay with anyone long enough to know who my father is, and I’m supposed to be happy you’re married now? Now that you’re almost in your sixties?
”I saw the pictures on Facebook.”

She drops her fork on her plate, startling both me and Sasha. “So you
did
get my request?”

Oh, the joys of Facebook. Everyone’s favorite app to spend time on and their favorite one to hate. “Yes, I did, recently. I haven’t been on there in ages. I checked it recently.” This is more explanation than she needs.

“Why didn’t you accept it?”

Why is Facebook the true determination of friendship? No one is actually dating until they are “Facebook Official.” It’s the one place people seek out validation. Who has the most friends? Do we have mutual friends? Why won’t you send me additional lives in Candy Crush?
This
is part of the reason I stay away. “I haven’t gotten around to it yet.” Nor will I ever. She’s lucky I’m not giving her the answer I want. I’m trying my best to keep our hostess in mind and not be rude, but my mother is testing my ability to do so.

“His name is David. He used to sell insurance, but he’s retired now. I was his secretary.”

Talk about cliché. And
she
has a job? “So you found a
legitimate
way to make a living?”

“That’s not really fair, Cassie.” When my mother says this, every muscle in my body tenses. I’m stiff from head to toe, but at the same time, my entire body shakes, goosebumps raising with every hair.
 

“Are you
really
going to talk to me about what’s
fair
?” I push my plate aside. I shake my head in apology at Sasha. I can’t do this. I can’t pretend to be here and enjoying my mom’s company. There’s a fire in my body and her remarks are only fanning the flames. I’m ready to toss out fireballs. “What’s fair about forgetting to pick me up because you’re off with your flavor of the week? What’s fair about not being able to help me with my school projects because you’re high off your rocker? What’s fair about being a teenage girl and not having my mother around to teach me about my period and boys and being a good person? You tell me, what’s fair about
that
?”

She swallows so hard I can hear it across the table. “I was scared, Cassie. I took the wrong paths in life. So many of them. I wish I could change that.”