The Art of Life (104 page)

               
Jeremy
puts his arm around my shoulders and holds me close to him.
 
“I know exactly how you feel.
 
I still think you had a little harder than I
did, but still, I know how it feels.
 
We
have each other now, and I will always make Christmas special.
 
It can be our holiday.”

               
“I
had such a good time,” I sniffle.
 
“I can
imagine that Kaitlin was just as kind.”

               
“She
was,” Jeremy whispers.
 
“Richard and
Lillian adored you though.
 
They said as
much.”

               
Putting
my face in his chest, I whisper, “I kind of miss my mom, in some bizarre,
sadistic sort of way.”

               
“Well,
she is your mom.
 
Do you want to go see
her?” He asks gently.

               
Thinking
about it for a second, I reply, “No, not really.
 
What would be the point?”

               
We
sit there for a while in silence.
 
Then
Jeremy brings up my head and kisses me, after that, the world disappears.
 
School starts up again, and life is
great.
 
A few weeks go by, when I am
going to my locker at the end of school.
 
When I look up, my stomach drops because my mother is standing
there.
 
“Speak of the devil woman,” I
mumble.
 
Walking up to her, I ask, “What
do you want?”

               
“I
came here to talk to you,” she states.
 
“Can we go somewhere privately?”

               
“I
don’t have much to say to you,” I retort, opening my locker.

               
My
mom rings her hands.
 
“Please Isabelle,
just give me ten minutes.”

               
I
think about it for a minute and then slam my locker door.
 
“Fine,” I growl.
 
“We can go talk in my car.”

               
“You
have a car?” My mom inquires.

               
“There
are a lot of things that I have that you don’t know about,” I say, starting to
walk down the hallway.
 
My mom follows me
silently.

               
When
we get to my car, my mom stops.
 
“This is
a really nice car.”

               
“I
have a boyfriend who loves me desperately and makes sure I am taken care of,” I
declare.
 
“Someone who
takes care of me for a change.”
 
Opening the doors, I say, “Get in.”

               
There
is just dead silence as we sit in the car for the first minute.
 
Finally, my mom whispers, “I wanted to say I
am sorry.”

               
“For what?”

               
“Your
life,” my mom replies.
 
“I have been a
horrible mother.”

               
That
makes me snort.
 
“Really, that’s a not a
news flash.”

               
“Just
let me talk….please,” my mom says, so I shut up.
 
“When that happened with Howard, I failed you
in the fullest extent.
 
The police came
and talked to me.
 
They showed me the
pictures and at that point I was sober.
 
It made me break down.”

               
Now
angry, I snap, “You broke down!
 
How did you
think I felt?
 
I had nothing!
 
If Jeremy hadn’t come into the picture, where
would I have gone?
 
I couldn’t stay with
you anymore!
 
It wasn’t safe!”

               
“I
know, Isabelle, the very next day I went and got help.”

               
“What
kind of help?” I sarcastically ask.

               
“I
started seeing a counselor and I have been going to meetings twice a week.
 
I have a sponsor.
 
I have been sober since that day, not one
drop of alcohol,” my mom states proudly.
               

               
Slightly
dumbfounded, I just stare at her.
 
“Really?”

               
“Yes,
I know I am not cured.
 
I am far from it,
but I am trying.
 
It’s hard but I take it
day by day.
 
I keep a journal, now.
 
All I write about is you.
 
How I wish I could make things
different.
 
How I wish I could make up
for all my mistakes.
 
I miss you.
 
I do love you Isabelle, even if I never
showed it.”

               
I
wipe the tears away that are falling down my cheeks.
 
“Mom….I don’t know what to say.
 
There is just so much hurt in the past.
 
You know I spent a wonderful Christmas with
some of the kindest people I have ever met.
 
They are what a family should be, not the crap that we have.”

               
“I
want to give you that Isabelle.
 
All I am
asking for is a chance and that is a big thing to ask of you, I know.”

               
Staring
out the windshield, I finally whisper, “Jeremy and I are very much in love and
I am extremely happy.
 
The happiest I
have ever been.
 
I have great, sincere
friends.
 
I finally have self-esteem.
 
Things are wonderful right now.
 
I don’t want to mess that up.”

               
“You
have every right to say no,” my mom says.
 
“I understand.
 
There may be no
going back.”

               
Not
knowing what to think, I just rub my head.
 
“Can you give me a little while?
 
Give me time to think, talk to Jeremy?”

               
“He
is that important?” She asks.

               
“Yeah,”
I murmur, “he is.”

               
My
mom fidgets with her fingers.
 
“Why don’t
we do this, why don’t I make dinner on Sunday and if you show up, you show
up?
 
It will give you the choice.”

               
“That
is going to be really horrible if I don’t show up, Mom.
 
I mean, I don’t want you to start drinking
again.”

               
She
puts her hands forward.
 
“I can handle
this.
 
I need to be able to deal with
things.
 
There is a meeting that night,
so if I need to, I can go get some support.”

               
Taking
a deep breath, I reply, “We will come.
 
I
swear mom, you have one chance.
 
That’s
it.”

               
“I
am going to try and do my best to not disappoint you again,” she declares.
 
“So Sunday at like 5:30?”

               
Slowly,
I nod my head, “Yup, Jeremy and I will be there.”

               
“Thank
you,” my mom exclaims.
 
“You won’t be
disappointed.”

               
“I
sure hope not.”

               
She
sits there awkwardly for a second.
 
“Okay, I will see you then.”

               
“Bye,”
I say, waving.
 
I am so not going to hug
her.
 
My mom smiles and leaves my
car.
 
When she walks away, I burst into
tears.
 
Thank God my windows are tinted.
 
I sit there and cry for a while.
 
By the time I am done, the school parking lot
is pretty much empty.
 
Suddenly, my phone
rings.
 
I answer it,” Hello.”

               
“Where
in the world are you my dear?” Jeremy asks.
 
That makes me burst into tears again.
 
“Isabelle!” Jeremy yells frantically, “What’s wrong?”

               
Sniffling,
I stutter, “My mom…..my mom came to school.”

               
“What!?
 
Are you
okay?
 
What happened?”

               
“She
is sober….supposedly, and we are going over there for dinner Sunday,” I sigh.

               
There
is just dead air space on the other end.
 
“Say that again?”

               
“Well,
I guess she stopped drinking, and she gave this really good argument on how she
is going to change.
 
I don’t know…..I
kind of want her to.
 
I want it to be
true.
 
What if she could be sober?”

               
After
another long pause, Jeremy says, “Well, she is your mother.
 
How do you feel about all of this, really?”

               
“I
don’t know,” I whisper.
 
“If it’s
true…..maybe I could actually get to know my real mom.
 
You
know,
the person
beyond the alcohol.”

               
 
“That would make me very happy Isabelle.
 
It really would.
 
Only one of us has a real mother, and it
would be great if she acted like one.”

               
I
nod.
 
“Yeah, it would.
 
I don’t know.
 
I am so scared to get hurt.”

               
“I
won’t let that happen,” Jeremy reassures me.

               
“I
don’t think this is something you can protect me from,” I note, “but this is my
choice and I making it.
 
I have to bear
the consequences.”

               
Jeremy
sighs.
 
“Alright, are you coming home?”

               
“Yeah,
I am leaving right now,” I reply.
 
“See
you in a few.”

               
“Okay,
bye toots.”
 
With that we hang up.
 
On my drive home, my head swarms with
thoughts.
 
Hope and dread mix together in
my brain.
 
This is could be great or an
epic failure.
 
We will have to wait and
see.

               
Sunday
comes around and I feel like I am going to hurl.
 
Jeremy tries to keep me calm, which
helps.
 
We drive to my mom’s house in
silence.
 
When we walk up to the door, we
kind of stand there for a second, finally I open the door and we go in.

               
“Mom!?”
I yell.

               
“In
here,” she shouts back from the kitchen.
 
We go walking in there and see a whole meal laid out, salad and everything.
 
I didn’t even know my mom knew how to really
cook.
 
“I hope you like roast.”

               
Skeptically,
I say, “Yeah, you haven’t made that since I was really little.”

               
Her
face becomes serious.
 
“I know.
 
You always liked it when I made it, so I
thought that would be a safe bet.
 
Why
don’t you sit
down.
 
Do you want some soda or juice?”

               
“I
will take some soda,” Jeremy replies.

               
My
mom nods and goes to the fridge.
 
“So,
how was your week?”

               
“Fine,”
I say, sitting down.
 
Jeremy takes the
seat next to me.
 
“And you?”

               
“Do
you want the fluffed answer, or the real answer,” my mom asks.

               
Shrugging,
I sigh, “The real one.”

               
“It
has been a hard week.
 
I didn’t slip up
though.
 
I think I was really nervous
about today, but I went to meetings and called my sponsor.
 
I did pretty well and now you are here!”