The main reason I don’t want anyone here is because today, I’m calling my parents. Today, I’m finally going to let them know how much they have completely ruined the first twenty plus years of my life. Today, I will put my parents, and every single fucked up issue they have given me, to rest and forever forget that they ever existed.
After eating something light for breakfast, I settle on the back deck with the phone and a cup of whiskey flavored coffee. Yeah, I need all the courage I can get.
I stare at the phone in my hand before I can make my fingers dial the ten numbers to connect me to my parents. When I press the last number and place the phone to my ear, I take a deep breath for strength and get ready.
“Roberts’ residence, this is Collette speaking.”
“Collette, this is Denise Roberts. May I please speak with Annabeth?” I feel the instant need to wash out my mouth when I say my mother’s name. It takes everything inside me to speak normally and keep the snark out of my tone. I really just want to ask Collette if I may speak with the raging bitch of the house.
“One moment, please, Ms. Denise. Let me see if the lady of the house is available for callers.”
She has got to be joking. The lady of the house? What a fucking joke.
By the time I’m finally taken off hold and my mother’s annoyed voice comes over the line, I am about to hang up and just say the hell with it.
“What is it, Denise? I’m in the middle of my bi-weekly massage, so can we make this quick?” I pull back the phone and drop my jaw when her words penetrate. Did I really expect anything different? No. I want to laugh when I realize how unnecessary this call is.
“Well, Mother, I’m so sorry that I interrupted your fucking massage.”
Her gasp comes out, and I can picture her pressing her hand to her chest in shock over her daughter’s ‘disgusting mouth.’ “You will watch your mouth when you’re speaking to me.”
“It’s a little too late for mothering, Annabeth, don’t you think?” She starts to speak but I cut her off quickly before I lose my lead on this conversation. “Here’s the thing, you old fucking hag. You might be my mother by birth, but that’s only because I didn’t get to pick the idiots that decided to have sex once, and nine months later, their accident was born. No, I didn’t get to pick then, but I do now. I’ve wanted to say this to you for years, but until recently, I didn’t have what I needed to make this call.”
“You are a filthy, disgusting, piece of shit, and I would have been better off thrown into the system than being raised by you and Davison. I hate you. I’ve hated you for the last thirty-one years of my life, and for once, the thought of telling you that doesn’t send me into a panic. I want you to let Davison know that this will be the last time you ever speak to me. From this day forward, you are dead to me. Do you understand that, Annabeth? Your daughter is dead.”
I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. My legs are bouncing in place, and I know I’m seconds away from throwing up.
“Well, I think an email would have sufficed here. Goodbye, Denise.” The click of her hanging up the phone causes me to jump. I can’t seem to remove the phone from my ear. The shock that she didn’t even react, not once, when I finally let her know what I think about her, is overwhelming.
I should be sad. Maybe shed a tear or freak out a little, but there is nothing. Nothing, but the heavy weight of the pain that they’ve caused me over the years, as it vanishes from inside of me.
I grab my coffee off the railing and take a long swallow, enjoying the burn of the whiskey mixed with it. When I pull the mug away from my mouth and feel my lips curve into a smile, I know that everything is finally okay. My life is finally perfect, and there isn’t anything that can take this feeling from me.
By the time I pull myself off the couch on the back porch, it’s nearing lunchtime. Beck’s already called twice to check on me, and the last time he called I told him he better not call me again. I love him for wanting to make sure that I’m okay, but we both need to start getting back to normal. Our normal. Together.
After a quick lunch, I sit down to start answering emails. I’ve enjoyed my break from work, my forced break, but now it’s time to get back on the wagon, so to speak. The first order of business is to start cleaning shop with the North Carolina branch. I spoke with Chelcie the other day about selling the business and having her move down here to help me run things. I’m ready to stop making work my number one priority, and focus on living my life.
Ring.
“Hey, Chelc, I was just thinking about you.” When I hear her soft sob, the smile on my face vanishes. “Chelcie? What’s wrong?”
“Oh God, Dee. I thought it was over, you know? Things have been so quiet around here, but you . . . you got a letter today.” She sounds terrified, and all it does is fuel the dread slowly closing in on me.
“Chelcie, what did it say?” I’m pretty proud of myself for sounding a lot calmer than I feel. I take a few deep gulps to calm myself and wait for her to speak.
“There are pictures, Dee. They have pictures of you, and they have pictures of me.”