Broken Like Glass by EJ McCay Read Free Book Online Page B

neutral. She looks up from her clipboard and smiles. “Keep going.”
    “Me and momma we didn’t see eye to eye. She had plans for me and at no time did she need input from me. I was traveling the world, you see. By any means necessary, whether by military or sugar daddy. I was going to see things she hadn’t. Coming up poor, made momma a little crazy about things.”
    “Her dying hurt, but not like I missed her, hurt. It hurt because I wanted a relationship with her like other girls had with their mommas. I wanted her to brush my hair, kiss my scars, and want for me what I wanted, but she never could. She loved me,” I say thinking back hard. Trying to remember if I believe what I’m saying.
    “You okay, Lilly?”
    Chrissy’s voice rocks me from my memories and I look at her. “Obviously not. I’m here aren’t I?”
    “You know what I mean. Your momma loved you. I saw the way she cared.”
    “Yeah, I think she did. I think she just loved me the way she thought she wanted to be loved when she was my age. Only, I needed to be loved like I wanted to be loved. Her loving didn’t feel like loving. So, when she passed, it was like momma died, the end. I didn’t really feel anything, but an emptiness where her body used to be.”
    “Do you miss her?”
    I think for a moment. I want to answer Chrissy honestly, but I haven’t been asked that question before so I don’t know the answer just off the top of my head. “No.”
    “You don’t miss your momma?”
    “I thought therapists weren’t supposed to judge.”
    “We don’t, but we do challenge you.”
    “So you’re challenging my response?”
    “I am.”
    “Why?”
    “So you have to back it up with a reason. That way when you think about it the next time it’s not just a feeling or an answer. It’s something tangible you can understand. That’s what I do. I’m not just a friend, sipping coffee with you, taking your answers as gospel. I’m the little voice in the back of your mind, pushing you to really answer the questions and work through what you’re actually feeling.”
    I take a deep breath. “I don’t miss my momma. I miss what I could have had with her. If you can miss what you don’t even understand.”
    “Have you tried to understand it?”
    I shrug. “I think so. I don’t know. I haven’t had to think about it, ever.”
    “Well,” Chrissy says and looks at her watch, “think about it between now and Friday. I want a solid answer when you come back. That’s your homework.”
    “I hate homework.”
    Chrissy smiles. “Maybe by the time you come back you won’t.”
    “Maybe, but don’t count on it.” I sit for a moment longer and then push out of the chair.
    Oh, Papa, I got mountains that need moving if you’re so inclined.
    I stuff my hands in my pockets and set off with a determination to get light bulbs from the Thriftway. My determination turns to cowardice as I round the corner and the sign blinks at me from the distance. I don’t need light bulbs that bad, I think to myself and spin on my heels in the direction of my woodland cabin.
    A truck rumbles next to me. Uriah pokes his head out of the window and smiles. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed a ride to town today?”
    Why? Because. I got no good answer beyond just because, so I shrug in response.
    “You wanna take a ride and get a bite to eat in the next town over?”
    “Can’t. Bad girls gotta eat tacos or fish or nuke Hungry Man meals.”
    “Well, want fish?”
    I walk to the truck and lean my hip against the door.
    “She doesn’t like fish!” Bo yells from behind me. He jogs to a stop next to the pickup. Those eyes he’s got are throwing daggers and large furniture in my direction. His suit is fine and tailored and obnoxious. I wish I could push him in a puddle.
    “What you doin’, Bo?” Uriah asks.
    “Oh, just got some papers to get notarized. Fancy said she’d do it. I just gotta go to Kettlefish to do it,” Bo answers and looks at his