All she wanted was for someone to do nice things for her. Avery saw that her mother could not exist without a man. She wished she could ask her questions. She just wanted to know everything so she could understand the pattern in Beverly’s...
All she wanted was for someone to do nice things for her.
Avery saw that her mother could not exist without a man. She wished she could ask her questions. She just wanted to know everything so she could understand the pattern in Beverly’s addiction and see that she was different. There can be similar symptoms for different maladies and no two people are exactly alike.
It was rather funny. After everything, this of all things had made Avery snap and run off on her own. It was all very dramatic, the whole thing. People seemed genuinely worried at her being alone.
She wondered why?
Was it her? Did she come off as fragile?
Was it convention? Because she was a woman and thereby not safe alone?
Pacing through the small hotel room she had bought for herself in Santa Barbara it dawned on her that she was safer on her own than she had ever been with a man.
She had checked in at the front desk high as a kite and in all black, looking disheveled in a very Johnny Cash way. The owner of the hotel made terrible jokes and gave her coupons to local restaurants. He frowned, realizing she was alone.
If Avery was being honest with herself, she was just terrified she’d meet the same fate as her mother. She couldn’t recall a time she had even asked her mother’s advice about anything. Actually, there was once when she asked if she could use brown sugar in a muffin recipe instead of white because she had run out, but that was the only time she could remember. She had just written her off.
It made sense. Avery was young when everything had happened and it wasn’t fair, but Beverly had paid for those mistakes her entire life. What had stopped Avery from letting her live her life thinking she had been a good mother?
If she was really being honest, perhaps it was because she wasn’t ready to give up on being hurt and damaged and move on with her life.
She thought back to the last mothers day. It was a day she never looked forward to. Each year she hoped it wouldn’t come, or her mother might forget. Some years she did, some others she made a scene. That year Beverly had called her at 5PM and said, “Oh, I was just calling to see if you had planned on calling me…”
“Sorry,” Avery had said without an ounce of empathy.
“Well, I have to go. Talk to you later. I’m busy.”
That year bothered Avery the most because she worried she might make the same call one day.