All my life, I had been in a competition with my mother. She wanted to take me down, hold me down, best me. She made nothing of her life and she wanted to make sure I didn’t make anything of mine because if I did, it would make her feel worse about the fact she’d thrown hers away.
And there I stood next to a good man, a handsome man, a solid, respectable man in a fabulously decorated apartment and across the breezeway were two children who adored me and a cadre of friends who had my back.
And she couldn’t stand it.
“Move on,” I whispered and I felt Mitch’s arm tighten and saw Mom’s eyes come to me.
“What?” she snapped.
“You don’t exist for me, not anymore. Not after this, not even before this but definitely not after. We’re done. I’ve moved on. Now you need to move on too,” I advised.
“Marabelle Hanover, don’t you stand there and tell your Momma what to do,” she kept snapping.
“Okay then, don’t move on. Your choice. But take your bitterness and regret for throwing away your life somewhere else. Don’t you see?” I lifted a hand and kept it up. “You can’t beat me.”
I dropped my hand and held her eyes.
Mom glared into mine and then hers went to Mitch.
“You’re a fool,” she stated, my body got tight and so did Mitch’s. “See she’s conned you with her fancy-ass clothes and her fancy-ass apartment into thinkin’ that she’s somethin’ she isn’t. You go home, ask anyone, they’ll tell you exactly who Marabelle Jolene Hanover is.”
“No,” Mitch replied, “they’ll tell me who Melbamae Hanover is and, one look at you, I know the woman you are and I know Mara is not that woman.”
“You go to Iowa, they’ll tell you,” Mom pushed.
“I already responded to that, not gonna do it again,” Mitch muttered then said straight out, “Now, I’ll remind you, you’ve been invited to leave.”
Mom gave up on Mitch and looked back at me.
“You can’t run away from who you are.”
“Wrong, Mom,” I replied. “I was never who you thought I was so I never had anything to run away from. But I did run away, not from who you thought I was but from you. I did it thirteen years ago. It’s done. I’m gone. I’ve been gone a long time. Move on.”
“He’ll see who you are, he’ll figure it out and he’ll leave you,” she told me.
“Jeez!” I cried. “I didn’t pick Mitch up at a Truck Stop, Mom, take him home and get him drunk on cheap whiskey. I’m not you and Mitch knew that before I did. You have no idea what you’re talking about. Now, for God’s sake, it’s late, I’m tired, my kids are tired and Bud’s freaked. I need to get them home, Bud calmed down and my family to sleep. So can you please just leave?”
“I –” Mom started but Mitch cut her off.
“Mara asked you to leave.”
Mom’s narrowed eyes went to Mitch.
“I’m gonna say what I –” she began again but Mitch cut her off again.
“Mara asked you to leave.”
Mom leaned in and her voice rose when she started, “I will say what –”
Mitch let me go and moved.
Luckily, Elvira moved before him. Hopping off the barstool onto her strappy, high-heeled sandals, she moved to the Trailer Trash Trio and she did it bossy.
“Right, conversation over. You chose wrong, now’s the time for attorneys,” she said, herding the Trailer Trash Trio closer to the door.
“We’re not done,” Mom snapped.
“You’re done,” Mitch replied, still advancing but doing it slowly.