Page 37 of Damaged Protector
On Wednesday afternoon, I steeled my spine as I picked up my phone and dialed. One ring. Two. Thr—
“Mallori!” my mother’s breathless voice answered in a rush. “What’s wrong? Do I need to come get you?”
My eyes lifted to the ceiling as I gathered my patience. “No, Mama. You don’t need to come get me.”
“I can send you money for a plane ticket. We can just have your things shipped back home so you don’t have to worry about—”
“Mama, I’m staying here,” I told her firmly. “Everything is going fine.”
“Fine but not good?” she pressed.
Jesus, give me strength. “It’s great. No problems whatsoever.”
“Except for the housing situation. I hear you’re living with a man.” Her tone was disapproving at best.
“I’m staying temporarily with one of Cam’s friends. His name is Hawk.”
She huffed out a breath. “What kind of name is that? Is he a criminal or something?”
I swear, the woman was reaching for any excuse to condemn my choices. “He’s not a criminal,” I said simply, unwilling to argue with her. Now that there was physical distance between me and my mother, I was finding it easier to keep my boundaries more firmly in place.
“Well, I don’t like it.”
Well, I don’t care what you like, Karen.
Changing the subject, I asked, “What have you been up to, Mama?”
“Oh. Me? Not really much, I guess. I did join a walking group in the neighborhood. We walked a mile this morning.”
“That’s awesome, Mama. I’m glad you’re making some friends.”
This. This is what she needed to keep her from focusing solely on me. Our enmeshment ran deep, and it would take a long time for all the threads to be snipped, but joining a group of walkers would be good for her. The exercise and the companionship.
“It was nice, I guess,” she said thoughtfully. “There was one lady named Marie who invited me to a craft fair this weekend.”
“You should go. You have such a creative mind. Maybe you could take up some kind of crafting.”
Her voice brightened a little. “You think I’m creative?”
“Of course!” I said, infusing enthusiasm into my tone. “You were the rhinestone queen when it came to decorating my costumes.”
She laughed, and the sound made me happy. I didn’t hate my mother, and I didn’t want her to be miserable. While I would never forget the way she didn’t believe me about Moreau, I wanted to maintain some kind of relationship with her. An appropriate mother-daughter relationship. Preferably from afar.
“I think I might do that. Your dad took me out to dinner last weekend.”
“That’s nice, Mama. Now that I’m out of your hair and Daddy is back home, you two can do more things together.”
I heard the wistfulness blaring through when she said, “I miss you, Mallori.”
“Me too,” I fibbed. I didn’t really; I was enjoying the space… the freedom. “I’ve been messaging with some people from my cohort. They’ll be my classmates when school starts. We’re all talking about getting together this weekend.”
I could literally sense her ear perking up. “What are you going to do?”
“Probably grab a bite to eat. Maybe go out to a club or something.”
“I don’t want you drinking, and you need to watch what you eat so you don’t gain weight.”
Following the advice of my counselor, I kept my words patient yet unrelenting. “Mama, I’m twenty-four years old and perfectly capable of handling my own eating habits.”