eyebrow and looks at me
in disbelief.
Ben!
“I didn’t do this for Ben! He doesn’t
deserve the effort, and as we all know, I don’t do things like this for just
anyone or anything!” I say, rolling my eyes.
“That’s true. Your mother will be
disappointed. She’s been in constant denial about your relationship, saying you
guys have just hit a rough patch and just need some time apart,” Dad explains
with an exhale of breath.
“What?! I can’t believe her. She knows
it’s over between us!”
“I know that, but she still hopes. I think
she just wants the wedding; she and Gwen want to plan one so badly,” Dad
laughs.
Why couldn’t he be like this all the time?
There is no way Dad would talk like this in front of Mom. I hear heels clack
against the floor behind me.
Uh oh…speaking of the devil. I close my
eyes for a second, and when I open them, Mom walks around me and stands next to
Dad. She is shorter than I am, but her five-inch heels bring her height up.
Normally, that would cast her over me, but tonight, I’m wearing high heels too.
I don’t know how tall they are, but I do know that she is, for once in her
life, below moi . She’s wearing a purple, one-shoulder shift dress that
stops just below the knee, showcasing her gym-sculpted legs. Mom looks me up
and down, her eyes doing nothing to hide the shock that her daughter actually
showed up to one of her events looking beyond polished. Maybe even more
polished than the majority of the guests.
I know one thing; I’m not saying hello
first. She crossed the line all those many months ago; if she wants an olive
branch, she’ll have to stretch it out first, and even then, I don’t know if I’d
accept.
I’m still scarred from that horrible
screaming match over dinner.
After a few seconds and a staring
standoff, my mom takes a breath and opens up her peach-colored glossed lips.
That’s what I thought! I think smugly,
proud of myself for not breaking and standing my ground.
“Hello, Marisa,” Mom says calmly and
without a trace of venom, surprisingly. Well actually, not surprising. We are at a party; she isn’t going to go crazy and show her true colors in front of
her beloved friends, and the kids of those friends, who she apparently favors
over her own flesh and blood.
Moi .
Bitch!
“Hello, Mother,” I reply, mimicking her
calm façade. It’s obviously a front. I bet she wishes I came a bit earlier,
prior to her guests showing up so she could share a word or two about my
selfish absence. I mean, there has literally been no one around for five-plus
months for her to scold unfairly.
“You look nice. I’m surprised you actually
showed up after so much time away. I’m so surprised; who knew you had it in
you?” Mom exclaims, taking another scan of my look.
And here we go, again…it begins.
Say it a little louder! I don’t think
enough people heard you belittle your daughter . Ugh, what a wasted opportunity.
I should say something. I really should. I
mean, what’s the point of the new Marisa if she’s not going to retaliate in
unjustified digs by the forces of evil.
Mom needs to be taken down, maybe then she’ll
finally respect me. I’m not weak!
“It’s not a big deal; it’s just a dress
and some shoes,” I respond to her nonchalantly. I peek through the corner of my
eye, and Dad keeps sipping his drink, a bit on edge if you ask me. He is
probably scared that he’s going to get kicked between me and her, especially
after how the whole situation was left. He probably thought Mom’s irritation
over my absence had grown tenfold, and is dying for a chance to tell me how it
really is. I couldn’t care less if his prediction or conclusion came true. The
only thing I know is that I am ready, ready for a fight, for a chance to redeem
and pick up my scarred soul which she so happily trampled on in the favor of
another woman’s child.
Damn it, it still hurts. The sooner I get
over it, the sooner I’ll be able to shoot back