“I’m here, Mom.”
She looks over his shoulder at me and visibly relaxes. She walks into the apartment, stepping tentatively around Arden and starts looking around.
“Let’s talk in my room.”
“Your—” I usher her into my bedroom before she can ask any more questions. I give Arden a grimace before closing the door behind us.
My mom is looking around my room, likely noticing all the very girly things and lack of boy things. “You live in this room?”
“I do.”
“And he lives…”
I grin. “Across the hall.” I know I had made it seem like we were shacked up living in sin and I was one step from being pregnant, which let’s face it, after this weekend, might be true—minus the pregnant part—but our living setup proves otherwise.
“I thought you said you were dating.”
“We are. But we started as just two people who needed to share an apartment. The dating came after, hence the separate bedrooms.”
Although, now that we are officially together, I’m sure we’ll be sharing at this point. I wonder what we’ll make the second bedroom?A movie theater!I shake my head, focusing on the present moment.
My mom nods and keeps looking around. She picks up the frame that Arden got me for my birthday, the frame I’ve already placed on my bedside table so that it’s always close to me.
“I miss her,” she says wistfully.
“So do I,” I reply. She looks at the picture for a long time, running her finger gently up and down the pebbled frame. “Mom?” She finally glances at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I—” She starts but then she stops. Then the tears start. I take the frame from her hands and guide her to the bed, holding her as she cries.
“I’m so sorry, Danika. I should’ve protected you better. I should’ve been a better mother.”
I rub her back. “Shh, stop, Mom. This isn’t your fault.”
“It is. I should’ve been strong enough to leave him.”
She cries, and I hug her because I don’t know what else to say. She’s right. She should’ve left him years ago. But she didn’t and now here we are, just two girls unsure of how to move forward.
After a few sniffles, she pulls herself together a bit and I grab a tissue from my dresser for her to blow her nose with.
She looks back at that picture of grandma and me. “I’ve always loved that picture of you two.”
“Mom,” I start and she looks over at me, still whipping her sniffly nose. “Do you know why I’m in medical school?”
She pauses for a moment. “No, I guess I haven’t really thought about it.”
“It’s because when your mother died of breast cancer, the doctors did everything they could to save her. And that inspired me.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.”
Mom looks at me and I look at her and for a second, I swear I’m just looking at an older version of myself and she’s looking at me as a younger version of her. We are one and the same. Girls navigating through life without an ounce of understanding if it’s the right thing or not.
“I’m going to pay for your school,” she blurts out. “And I’m going to live with your Aunt Kat for a little while.”
“Mom…”
“It’s okay, Danika. I should’ve done this years ago.”