I wish I had the time to lay in bed for days and drown in my own self- pity, but sadly life goes on. Between dodging Oakley’s phone calls for two days and eating my feelings in chocolate chip cookie dough, I’ve managed to fall behind in my school work.
My second semester is already more challenging than my first and I am nowhere near caught up with my assignments. I’ve just had so much to deal with lately, especially with my new found “relationship” with my birth mother.
I got a text from her last night in the middle of my Friends marathon. She suggested we meet at a coffee shop this morning and after some thought, I agreed. I’m regretting it now that I have to walk in the freezing cold, however.
I make it to the coffee shop early, a habit I picked up from Lily, and order a black coffee before sitting down at one of the few empty tables that face the busy road to wait for Rebecca.
An older couple sits at the table across from me. The man takes his wife’s hands in his own and raises them to his lips, a sight that makes me think about all of the times Oakley has done the same.
Maybe I’m overreacting. I know he probably has a logical explanation for the picture and for why he left in the first place. But it isn’t just the party incident that’s upsetting me. It’s that I know this isn’t going to stop. There will be more parties and more girls when he gets drafted. How am I supposed to be able to deal with that? It feels like a never-ending battle when it comes to us. I don’t know how much more I can take.
The screech of a chair being pulled across the hardwood floor snaps me out of my reverie.
“You look beautiful,” Rebecca says excitedly as she takes her seat opposite me. She drops her designer handbag onto the vacant chair beside
me and smiles broadly.
“Thanks. Uhm, so do you.”
It’s true. She does look beautiful—quite a change from the first time I saw her.
Her long brown hair is twisted into a neat knot at the back of her head and her makeup is glowy and airbrushed. She is wearing the same wool coat, but with different jeans and boots.
She looks surprised by my compliment but hides it well with a smile. I gulp my coffee as I try to think of something to say. Thankfully, Rebecca speaks first.
“So, tell me everything about you. I want to know everything about my little girl.”
I wince slightly at her pet name but decide to let it go. The last thing I want is to let my feelings ruin the opportunity to get the answers I deserve.
“Where do I start?” I ask, forcing a smile.
She smiles warmly. “Are you going to school here?” “Yeah, for Social Work,” I mumble awkwardly.
Her smile falters. Oh well, she should feel guilty. “That’s awesome, Octavia.”
“Call me Ava,” I say hurriedly. “I prefer it.”
Hurt flashes across her features. “Octavia is such a pretty name. You should be called by your real name. I chose it becau—”
“Ava is my real name. Octavia reminds me of a time I don’t want to think about,” I say bitterly, cutting her off. I try to feel bad for being rude, but I don’t. I find it hard to feel sympathy for the woman who abandoned me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep,” she says quietly and stares down at her cup. “How’s that big scary boyfriend of yours doing?”
“Let’s talk about something else,” I almost snarl at her, unable to help it. I don’t want to talk about Oakley. I want to talk about her.
“Where have you been for the past twenty years?” Fire burns in my veins, and I can feel my face flushing in anger. I don’t know where this is coming from. Well, I do. I just thought I would be able to keep it under control.
“It’s a bit of a blur. But after your father left, I moved from place to place. Then I found Link, my boyfriend. He has a place here in Vancouver. I’ve been staying there for a while now.”
Ah, Link. The rich guy she’s taking advantage of has a name. How
nice.
“How long have you been clean?” I ask pointedly, my voice strong
and steady.
“Since I came to see you for the first time,” she sighs and looks up from her cup.
Her blazing, emerald green eyes burn into mine. We even have the same eyes, how comical. I vaguely wonder what features I get from my birth father.
“Why come back now? After all this time? Is it money? Are you
sick?”
She shakes her head and looks away from me once again.
“I don’t need money, and I’m not sick. I just wanted to see my
daughter. It’s been so long.” Her voice cracks.
“Daughter?” I echo incredulously. “I’m not sure who you think you are, but you are not my mom. You’re nothing more than the woman who dumped me in the system before I was out of diapers!” I hiss and take a deep breath before continuing, “Do you have any idea what my life was like growing up? Do you ever think of the damage you’ve done? Do you even care?”
“Ava, can we please go—”
“Outside? Sure!” I make a beeline for the door furiously. Her heeled boots click annoyingly against the tiled floor as she tries to keep up with me. I rush out to the side of the building and whirl on her.
“You have to understand, Ava! I wasn’t ready to be a mom back then.”
I let out a humorless laugh and cross my arms. “And that was my fault? I’m the one who suffered because you couldn’t keep your life together. Not you.”
She flinches, her mouth falling open in shock.
“If you came here hoping to reconnect as a parent, you’re about twenty years too late. I already have a mom—Lily and David, who took me in and loved me when you left. They gave me everything I wanted and cleaned up the mess you left behind. You’re too late!”
“I know,” she whispers, looking genuinely heartbroken. “You got the life you deserved.”
“After fifteen years of being shuffled from one house to another, being treated like a paycheck! After hours of crying myself to sleep because my mom left me. I spent those years believing I was the problem. You might be happy with your life now, and I’m glad for you, but I don’t want to be part of it.”
She remains silent, unnervingly so. I blink away the tears and clench my fists so tightly that my nails dig into my skin.
“We might share the same blood, Rebecca, but you’re not my mother, and I’m not your daughter. You don’t get to decide when you want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to pretend to be a happy family just to make you feel better about yourself. I’m done making excuses for you. I deserve better, and it’s taken me far too long to realize that.”
Ignoring the look on her face, I turn on my heel and walk away, my head held high, just as my real mom taught me.
