Revelry

Mom rolled her eyes until they landed hard on me. “Don’t be impudent, Wren.”


I bit down hard on my tongue, pushing off the counter and making my way over to the coffee pot. “Want some?” I asked, pulling one mug down because I already knew her answer. I poured a full cup, adding just one spoonful of sugar and taking a sip while it was still scalding hot. It was more pleasurable than talking to my mother.

She sighed behind me. “What are you doing here?”

I kept my eyes on my mug, the steam hot on my face from how close I held it. Mom stood slowly, crossing the kitchen until she stood in front of me. I felt like a little girl again, like I was ten years old and had stayed outside until after the street lights came on.

“Listen, I know that marriage is hard. I get it, believe me. But this?” Mom gestured to the cabin, the place that had felt more like home in the past two months than my house with Keith ever did. The way she surveyed it made me feel defensive, like I needed to puff out my chest and protect it. “Honey, this isn’t you. This is absurd, quite frankly. Keith loves you, and he’s waiting for you to get this out of your system and come back home. I know the paperwork is final, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll take you back and you guys can work on this.”

“Have you been talking to Keith?” I asked incredulously. Then, my eyes widened farther. “Wait, did you tell him where I am?”

She was silent, and that was all the answer I needed.

“Damn it, Mother!” I smacked a hand hard on the counter. “I don’t want to work on anything. Did you not hear a word I said the night I cried to you on the phone about this? I was miserable. Keith was miserable. He just doesn’t want to admit that we don’t work together. I’m not what he wants.”

“Says who?”

“Says him! In every possible way. He may spout pretty words at you about how much he loves me, but you don’t treat someone you love the way he treated me,” I choked. “He didn’t support me, mom. He resented me.”

“Well, did you ever think about supporting him?” Mom threw back. “God, do you ever stop to think about how wrapped up you are in yourself?”

Her words sliced right through me, like a million tiny razor blades all aimed at vital organs. It hurt worse when she said it than it did when Keith had, yet still I heard his voice echoing hers. I felt their eyes, their judgment—the only thing I didn’t feel was understanding, from anyone in my life.

And what did that say about me?

Could it be that I really was just a selfish little girl? I had put my happiness first. I had asked what I needed in life, not what I could do for those who loved me and who I loved, in return.

“Maybe I am selfish,” I finally conceded, my voice low, eyes still on where my hands gripped the ceramic coffee mug. “But all I know is that I couldn’t live one more day in that life. And it may not make sense to you, but I need to be here right now. I need space—to think, to find out who I am, what I want.”

“Oh, please,” she cut me off, not even an ounce of pity present. “You think you’re doing fine? That you’re moving on and finding yourself?”

She scoffed, clicking away from me in her small kitten heels. She swiped her purse and coat from the rack and threw them on before spinning to face me once more. This time I lifted my head to look at her, and I’d never felt so small.

“You’re distracted, Wren. You’re staying in a new place, with new furniture and new people and a new guy in your bed.” She shook her head, her eyes a mirror of my own. “This is a fairytale, and one day you’ll have to come back to reality, and back to the people you left behind there.”

My bottom lip quivered and I reached up to touch it, covering it with my trembling hands. Mom’s eyes glossed over but she sniffed back the tears, nodding just once before she opened the door.

“Take care of yourself. And for God’s sake, call your mother once in a while.”

With that, she stepped over the threshold and let the door close gently behind her. And there I was, alone again, feeling it for the first time since that very first week of the summer.

My chest ached, breaths hard to grasp. I tried to set my mug on the counter but missed, teetering it on the very edge until it crashed to the floor by my feet.

The hot liquid splashed everywhere, covering my toes and leggings as the ceramic scattered. I jumped back with a yelp, and then I just stared at the mess, hands frozen mid-air like I could stop it from happening even though it already had.

It was something so small, so stupid, easily cleanable with a broom and mop.

But it was the last straw for me.

I screamed, face contorting as tears pooled in my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. I swiped at them angrily and flew up the stairs, changing out of my bed clothes hastily before snatching my keys off the kitchen counter and tugging on my boots. I needed to get out. I needed to drive. I needed space. I needed clarity. I needed a place without judgment, a clear mind, a sign—something.

But the truth was even worse than all that.

Because really, I had no idea what I needed, at all.





I wasn’t sure how long I’d been driving. I only knew the sun had set at some point, my back was aching, my hands were sore from gripping the steering wheel, and my hair was a mess from having the windows down.

It could have been midnight or long after for all I knew, but I still found myself pulling into Momma Von’s driveway.

She was sitting on her front porch alone, reading a book as she rocked in the chair directly under her porch light. She peered up at me as my headlights shone over her, and when I cut the engine and stepped out, she closed her book with a sympathetic smile.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful,” she said sarcastically when I hit the top stair. I plopped down in the chair Ron usually sat in, crossing my legs and tucking my feet up under my thighs.

“I’m a mess.”

She chuckled, setting her book on the coffee table between us. She watched me for a moment, probably waiting for me to speak, but I didn’t know what to say yet.

“Anderson was here not too long ago,” she finally said. My heart stopped at the mention of his name, eyes flicking to Momma Von’s. “He was pretty upset, guess he was expecting a call from you tonight.”

I swallowed. “I texted him when I pulled in. I just, I can’t see him right now.”

She nodded, brushing her bangs from her face. “Okay. So tell me what happened, then.”

I blew out a long breath, not sure why her asking that question was so frustrating to me. I was obviously here because I wanted to talk to her, and yet I had no idea what I actually wanted to say.

“My mom came by today.”

“Oh? How was that?”

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