MOTHER: A Novel

by Angel Gelique

  clothes.

  When Jane was done, she walked to the kitchen to begin preparing dinner. There wasn’t much to work with. Her debit card had not arrived in the mail yet. She had planned to go to the bank first thing after dropping Emma off at school, but Brian had asked her to work until noon just before she left work. She decided to stop off at the bank on her way home from work instead. It would still be open. Then she could finally buy some groceries.

  Jane gave up on cooking dinner with the sparse ingredients that she had left. It was a good night for pizza. Emma would appreciate that much better than anything she could conjure up anyway. She remembered that she had twenty-two dollars in her wallet. It was more than enough for a pizza and the delivery person’s tip. Jane pulled out a menu from a drawer to the left of her kitchen sink and dialed the number. She placed her order and waited for dinner to arrive.

  Emma was still sleeping when the pizza arrived. Jane hated to wake her but she knew she loved her pizza piping hot, when the cheese was all melted and gooey. She placed a slice on a dish and walked it over to Emma. Normally, she would ask Emma eat at the dining room table, but she’d let her slide tonight. As long as the pizza didn’t end up like the banana, Jane wouldn’t mind.

  She set the dish down on the coffee table and gently shook Emma’s shoulder.

  “Emma?” she whispered softly. Emma’s eyes flickered open, slowly. They still looked puffy. Jane could see that she had been crying. She assumed that Emma had had a bad day at school. Her heart ached for her.

  “I brought you a slice of pizza,” she said quietly. She wanted to stroke Emma’s hair and tell her that everything was going to be all right.

  Emma just shook her head.

  “Please eat, it’s nice and hot...I ordered extra cheese,” Jane said, stressing the last part of her sentence in a singsong way.

  “Nooo,” Emma said, sounding groggy.

  “You wanna talk about what happened in school?”

  “Leave me alone,” Emma said softly, tears filling her eyes. A long teardrop slid down her cheek.

  Jane felt like crying too. She hated to see Emma hurting so

  much. She would give everything she had to make her feel better.

  “I love you Emma. I know you’re angry with me now, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.”

  “I hate you,” Emma hissed.

  And just like that, Jane’s good day was ruined. It didn’t matter that she had stood up to Emma before, or to Brian, or had had a wonderful conversation with Zachary. Nothing mattered at the moment except the words that stung her heart like acid. She was sure—mostly sure, anyway—that Emma didn’t truly mean it, that she was just hurt and angry. Yet it bothered her deeply, hearing the one person she loved more than anything in the world proclaim such hatred toward her. At least the tears concealed the fury behind Emma’s eyes. Now Jane, too, had tears in her eyes.

  “What have I ever done to make you hate me so much?” she asked sadly, her voice cracking.

  “You made Dad leave,” Emma sobbed.

  “He wanted to leave, Emma…it wasn’t my fault.”

  “You got...too fat...he wanted some...one else so...he left,” Emma said, choked up.

  “I guess you’re right, I’m sorry,” Jane said, tears streaking down her face. She was truly sorry that her weight gain had led to so many problems.

  “But I’ve always taken good care of you, given you all my love, everything you’ve ever needed and wanted. I’ve always been there for you, I do my best, Emma....I do my best.”

  Emma continued to sob. She had nothing left to say.

  “And I’ll always be here for you...whether you hate me or not, I

  love you so much...you can blame me for everything, I’ll take the blame, I just want you to be happy...I just want you to know that you’ll always be my baby, Emma, no matter how old you get, no matter how—”

  Jane was too choked up to finish. She turned and left to get a tissue to blow her nose. She had said her piece.

  Jane blew her nose, washed her hands and put the box of pizza in the refrigerator. Good thing Emma cleaned the fridge, she thought, otherwise there wouldn’t be room for this big box. Seven of the eight slices remained in the box. The eighth slice remained on the coffee table, untouched.

  ~18~

  It was Thursday—Emma’s birthday. It was the first thought Jane had as she opened her eyes. It would normally be such a joyous day. When Emma was just four, Jane had started a tradition of leaving balloons in her room the night before, while she slept, so that she would awaken to them floating above her. Today there were no balloons, just tear-stained eyes and bitter memories.

  It should have been such a wonderful day. Instead, it would start off bad and no doubt get progressively worse. Jane didn’t even have the ingredients to make Emma’s traditional birthday breakfast—bananas foster pancakes: pancakes loaded with sweet, ripe bananas and topped with whipped cream and gooey banana syrup. It was a delectably sweet meal—more of a dessert, really.

  Jane and Emma would ordinarily discuss the official birthday plans over breakfast. No matter what else was going on in their lives, and no, Emma had not quite been a sweet angel during the past couple of years, but on her birthday, things would always be different, magical. Jane missed that today. She missed everything that once was but was now lost.

  Jane got out of bed trying hard to remember why she was looking forward to this day. It would be worse than any ordinary day. Maybe she should just work the full day. Why waste half of it? For what? To do good things for Emma that would go completely unnoticed and unappreciated?

  The fire burning in Jane’s stomach was especially painful and unrelenting this morning. She looked over to her nightstand, hoping to find some antacid, but remembered that she had taken the last one before bed. She moaned softly and involuntarily as she slowly stepped out of bed. It was unusually cold in her room. She quickly pulled on her robe and tied it tightly as she shivered. She hoped that they didn’t run out of oil. Wouldn’t that just make the day dandy, she thought sarcastically.

  Jane walked down to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker.

  She hadn’t had a cup in days, but it sounded good at the moment. At the very least, it would warm her up. Jane was out of bread, had one egg left, about a cup of milk left in the carton, no cheese, no bacon, no sausage, no pancake mix, nothing! There was no way she could scrounge up breakfast with the few items she did have. She pulled out the pizza box, removed a slice, returned the box to the refrigerator and placed her slice into the oven.

  When it was fully heated, Jane ate the whole slice—even the crust—which she usually left on the plate. She felt hungry enough to have another, but the ever-intense pain in her stomach advised her otherwise. She finished her coffee and placed the cup in the sink along with the dish. Her sink was full of dishes she hadn’t yet gotten to wash and she hated to see it that way, so she quickly rinsed everything off. Even though she had a perfectly good dishwasher, she preferred to hand-wash the dishes. By the time she was done, it was time to wake Emma.

  Reluctantly, Jane walked up the stairs, pausing at Emma’s bedroom door. Emma’s words, which she had heard dozens of times before, cut her deeply yesterday. It felt like she was hearing them for the first time all over again. She sighed softly before knocking on the door. Fortunately, the door was unlocked and Jane entered. Emma was sound asleep on her bed, under her covers, looking deceivingly sweet and innocent. Jane flicked the light switch.

  “Happy birthday, Emma,” she said lovingly, as she gently nudged her. Emma’s face grimaced and she rolled over.

  “It’s getting late, you need to get up and get ready for school,” Jane said. “Please, Emma, let’s make this a good day.”

  Jane left Emma’s room, hoping that she would get up, dress and be ready to go on time. She showered, dressed and was back in Emma’s room twenty minutes later. Emma was still under her covers.

  “Emma,” Jane spoke loudly, “
wake up now, it’s late.”

  She pulled the covers off Emma, who fought feebly and unsuccessfully to get them back. Finally, Emma opened her eyes and looked up at Jane. She had a sudden, overwhelming urge to hug her. Tears filled her eyes again as she fought vigorously to suppress this shocking, most unwelcomed feeling. Jane’s sympathy made it that much harder. Emma needed someone to love, but she didn’t want to love anyone anymore.

  “Don’t be upset, honey, everything’s going to be fine, I promise you,” Jane said softly. She wiped a tear from Emma’s cheek. Emma pulled away from her touch, fighting her own need to fling herself into Jane’s arms and cry until, as Jane had promised, everything was fine again.

  The emotional battle between Emma’s heart and mind enraged her more than anything. Her pride and anger was stronger than her need to love, to be loved. The demon was back.

  “I don’t want your help, I don’t need your help, I don’t need you at all,” she cried out, wiping the last of the tears from her face. “Get out of my room if you want me to get dressed for school.”

  Jane left without responding. A least she didn’t have to threaten to call Arty, the imaginary cop.

  By the time Emma walked downstairs, it was practically time to leave. She looked at the dining room table as if expecting to see a stack of banana pancakes. It made Jane feel guilty even though she knew that if she had been able to prepare them for Emma, she would have left them sitting on the table untouched, just as she had wasted her slice of pizza and countless meals before that.

  “Do you want me to heat up a slice of pizza for you? Jane asked Emma, already knowing the answer.

  Emma shook her head. She was wearing a fitted dress that made her look like a broomstick. Jane hadn’t seen that dress on Emma in two years. She thought Emma had long outgrown it. Apparently not.

  “I know, pizza isn’t exactly a birthday-worthy breakfast. How about I stop off at the new bagel place?”

  Jane would have just enough money to buy Emma a bagel sandwich. Again, Emma shook her head.

  “I know what’ll make you feel better,” Jane said optimistically with a smile. “Your cell phone is back on.”

  Emma didn’t seem to care at all. In fact, she really, truly didn’t care at all. She had no friends left to call now. The phone was useless to her.

  Without acknowledging Jane, Emma walked to the foyer to grab her jacket.

  Jane had the box with Emma’s charm bracelet in her purse. She had thought about giving it to her before they left the house, but it didn’t seem like the right time. Of course, later on didn’t look any

  more promising, but Jane would try her best to make Emma’s birthday special...somehow.

  The ride to the school was quiet. Before Emma left the car, Jane said, “happy birthday, sweetheart,” but Emma ignored her completely. She walked into the building with her head lowered. Jane could see a small group of girls gawking at her, saying things to one another, then laughing. It made her want to get out of the car and slap them all. Her heart ached for Emma. No wonder she was so miserable. She would go out of her way to cheer Emma up later.

  Just as Jane was about to drive off, Sarah approached the car.

  Jane lowered the passenger side window to speak with her.

  “Hi, Mrs. Winston,” Sarah said sullenly.

  “Hi Sarah, how are you?”

  “Okay, I guess. Is everything better between you and Emma?”

  “What do you mean?” Jane asked, wondering what Emma had told her.

  “Well, at the party, Emma was so mean to you, and she—” Sarah stopped abruptly.

  “She what?”

  “Well, she doesn’t call you ‘mom’ and she’s so disrespectful.”

  “She’s just going through a rough time, I guess,” Jane said, embarrassed.

  “Oh, I guess,” Sarah said, unconvinced. She lingered on as if she had something more to say.

  “What is it, Sarah? You can tell me,” Jane prodded.

  “Well...I...it’s just that..., well,” Sarah giggled nervously. She looked down at her feet then back up at Jane. She looked flushed.

  “Sarah, you can tell me anything,” Jane said softly.

  “I’m just worried about Emma,” Sarah said. She took a deep breath before continuing. “Mrs. Winston, I think she might be on drugs.”

  Jane thought she would lose her breakfast right there and then. Her abdominal pain was almost unbearable and she let out a cry as she grabbed her stomach.

  “I’m so sorry,” Sarah said nervously, feeling guilty that she had caused Jane so much pain.

  “It’s not you,” Jane said, fighting to catch her breath. “Have you ever seen Emma doing drugs?”

  “No, never,” Sarah said, “but what else could explain the change

  in her?”

  Jane was relieved that Sarah had not actually witnessed Emma doing drugs, but she was right. It was looking more and more likely that Emma was abusing drugs.

  “Did she ever say anything to you about drugs?” Jane asked, wincing. She felt like her stomach was bleeding.

  “No,” Sarah answered. “Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Jane replied, more concerned about Emma.

  “Can you try to fish for information from her, see if she’ll open up to you?” Jane asked.

  “Well....” Sarah hesitated. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms.”

  “Really? But you’re her best friend,” Jane said, surprised to hear it.

  “She sort of pissed everyone off,” Sarah said, “no one’s talking to her anymore.”

  “My poor baby,” Jane said sadly, “what’s going on with her?”

  Jane pushed down on her stomach. Sometimes it relieved some of the pain. Not now, though. The increasing pain was almost as bad as being in labor.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Mrs. Winston?” Sarah asked.

  Jane nodded.

  “I have to run,” Sarah said, “I’ll try to talk to Emma for you,” she promised.

  For Jane’s sake, she would make an effort to confront Emma.

  “Thanks, Sarah, I truly appreciate it.”

  Jane stopped off at a pharmacy on the way to work. She needed to buy more antacid. She didn’t care about being late. She wished that she could call in sick but knew that Brian would think she was just being spiteful. Besides, she had given him her word and she had always been dependable.

  Jane was nearly ten minutes late, but fortunately Brian was nowhere in sight. Jane sat down at her desk, fearing the worst about Emma. The knots in her stomach twisted tighter with each dreadful thought of Emma doing drugs. Which drug? Jane wondered. Did she smoke it? Sniff it? Shoot it up? Jane prayed it wasn’t crack or heroin. If anything, just marijuana, though would that really attribute to Emma’s erratic behavior?

  “What’s on your mind, Janey?” Zachary asked.

  Jane was so engrossed in troubled thoughts that she hadn’t heard him approach her desk. She jumped, startled, then happy to see a friendly face. She stood up and hugged Zachary tightly, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “You must’ve really missed me,” Zachary teased.

  Jane nodded. She didn’t even know how to begin.

  “Is it Emma again?” Zachary asked, knowing for sure it had to be. Jane’s nod confirmed his hunch. Jane went back to her seat and Zachary sat in the chair next to hers.

  “I think she’s on drugs,” Jane cried, as she wiped the tears off her face with a tissue.

  “Why do you think so?” Zachary asked, not the least bit surprised by Jane’s suspicion.

  “Well you know how she’s been acting, I thought it was just a bad case of teen angst, but this morning her best friend told me that she thinks Emma’s on drugs. Why would she say that unless she knew something?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know what to do. It’s not like I can even talk to her.”

  “I think you need to confront her.”

  “But what if
I’m wrong and I accuse her of doing drugs for nothing?”

  “Then she’d probably be mad at you, but what else is new? If it’s as bad as you say, you should be used to that by now.”

  “I can never get used to it,” Jane said sadly.

  “I still think you should just confront her.”

  “Today’s her birthday...I can’t do it today, I just can’t.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize. What are you planning to do?” he asked, hoping that Jane wasn’t opening up another door to disappointment by making elaborate plans that Emma would not appreciate.

  “I was thinking of taking Emma out to dinner at that new Italian restaurant...but she probably wouldn’t want to go. I tried saying ‘happy birthday’ to her this morning, but she just ignored me. I ordered a charm bracelet for her a few months back. I wanted to give it to her this morning, but I didn’t want her to break it or throw it away.”

  Jane removed the box from her purse and handed it to Zachary. He opened the box and carefully removed the beautiful bracelet, closely examining it. He looked at the ‘daughter’ charm that

  dangled. He felt terribly for Jane; she had tried so hard to make Emma happy only to get kicked in the face over and over again.

  “This is gorgeous. She’s gotta love it,” he said, as he carefully placed the bracelet back into the box and handed it to Jane. She returned it to her purse.

  “There’s so much I wanted to do for her today,” Jane said, suppressing the urge to cry again. “Now everything is all screwed up.”

  “Have a little faith, Jane, it may not be as bad as you imagine.”

  “Would you, Colleen and Scott like to stop by later for some cake?”

  Zachary looked at her as if she has two heads. She can’t be serious, he thought.

  “Uhh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said flatly.

  “I’m in for a rough night, aren’t I?” Jane said, half-jokingly.

  “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger,” Zachary said, as he stood up. “I’ll talk to you later, I’ve got to make a couple of calls.”