He doesn’t look convinced, but I take my chance to leave before he changes his mind. I kiss his dimpled cheek, and slip from the room.
The ma?tre d’ directs me to the restroom at the other side of the restaurant. I welcome the distance and take the time to sort my head. Halfway there, something familiar catches my eye. I stop mid-step and squint. No, it can’t be.
Sitting at an intimate table for two is a stunning woman with long black hair and a shimmering gold dress. She flips the dark locks in a playful manner, a bright smile lighting her face. She seems happy and carefree. If I didn’t know better I’d say she looks . . . in love.
“Mom.”
Twenty-five
Raven
It’s been two years since I’ve seen her. Part of me wants to run to her, hoping the sight of me will make her smile. I want her to tell me she’s missed me and has been meaning to call, as most moms would do with a child they haven’t seen in two years. But I’m frozen in place. Those thoughts are nothing more than the musings of a neglected child—one who wants what she’ll never have.
I study her as she sips her wine, her eyes intent on the john across the table. She tilts her head and smiles. The softness in her gaze makes my heart pinch with envy.
I’ve never been on the receiving end of her smile. Her blank stares, those I know. The way her sparkling eyes go dead when she looks at me, I know that too. And she’s certainly never looked at me with love. Indifference, yes. Resentment, maybe.
Love? No.
She wouldn’t give me that. But here, for the right price, she gifts these things to a stranger. He’s paid for it. He is deserving of it, but not me, not her own daughter.
My breath becomes short. Anger boils my insides. Tears launch their brutal attack without mercy. This time, I don’t fight them. I savor the sting on my cheeks as the salty evidence of my neglect consumes me. I welcome the sadness and desperation as it spurs on my rage.
I’ve been such a fool. Daydreaming about what might be. I have no parents. They used each other to create a sick joke of a human being for their own selfish reasons. I’ve put up with the neglect and abuse for long enough. No more.
My legs begin a journey my mind hasn’t caught up to. Before I know it, I’m standing at their table. My eyes lock on my mom. I sense the curious stare of her date from the corner of my eye, but I wait. I wait to be acknowledged by her.
It doesn’t take long before her face turns to me with a polite smile, probably thinking I’m a waitress, and then falls instantly: blank stare, dead eyes.
No smile for me, mom? What a shocker.
Silently, our eyes locked on each other, my lips curl.
“Can we help you?” says the john.
I ignore him and speak directly to her. “How could you?” The acrid tone of my words makes her shift in her seat.
“Raven,” she whispers my name like it’s a dirty word. Her eyes dart around the room. “I’m on a date. Call me tomorrow and we can—”
“How fucking could you? You smile at him.” I point an accusing finger at the john. “But you can hardly stand to look at me!” My fist slams against their table, shaking the china. “Your own daughter.”
Eyes on the john, she shakes her head and shrugs as if to say, I don’t know what she’s talking about.
Bitch!
“I’m sorry about this, Mark. There must be some mis—”
“You’re sorry, Mark?” My glare swings back and forth between Mark and my mom. “You’re sorry, fucking Mark? You ruined my life!”
Mark jumps from his chair. “Watch your tone! We’re having dinner, and if you know what’s best for you, you’ll turn around and walk out of here. Now.”
I have no intention of walking out of here. Not without saying what I need to say.
“Did you know, Mom? Did you know what his plan was for me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your dad tell you that he . . . that he . . .” I can’t bring myself to say it, but the fear showing in her wide eyes tells me she knew. “He’s come for me.”
Her hand grips at her throat and her face pales. She leans to the side, squinting at something behind me. She wants to avoid what I’m saying. No, not this time.
I get right in her face and point. “You did this to me. Why? You ruined my life. I wish you never had me!”
Her eyes glisten before they drop to her lap.
“That’s enough!” Mark grabs my arm and pulls hard.
Unfazed by Marks tightening grip, I intend on expelling the ugly until they throw me out. “Do you hear me, whore? I wish I was never born!”
“Get your motherfucking hands off her,” a low, but authoritative rumble demands from my back.
Mark’s eyes move to a towering figure behind me before he releases his hand. I don’t have to turn around to know my savior as his strong arms wrap around my waist.
The sound of Jonah’s voice and comfort of his touch trigger a sob from deep in my chest. He’s here. Thank God. I lean into his embrace. I don’t know how much he heard, but his presence reminds me of what I have and dulls the ache of what I never will.
“I’ve got you, baby. Let me take you home.”