sure what I want to do. I like the mystery. How about we chat and get to know each other over the week, and then we’ll make a decision after that?
Look at me being in charge and making decisions. It’s all new to me.
Mystery Man: So long as you’re happy, then I am as well. ;)
I can’t help the cheesy grin spreading across my face.
Charity: Yep. How about we play a game of 20 Questions? You ask something, and then I will. You’re allowed to pass on questions, though.
I head out the door with my heart feeling a little lighter and grab my bag on the way out.
“Are you ready to go?” Mom asks as I hit the bottom step.
“Yeah.” I smile excitedly about what my future holds.
Mom and I hit the hardware store for some paint and supplies. It’s great spending time with her and getting to know her. The nervousness that we both had at the start seems to have slowly started disappearing.
While driving home, my eyes remain on the outside scenery. It’s a silent drive, but I sense Mom’s gaze on me. She shifts lanes, and again I feel the weight of her on-and-off stare. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Oh sorry, honey. I just got caught up in the moment. I still can’t believe you’re here. We’re so happy to have you here with us.”
Glancing over, I smile. “Thanks. It’s really been great. I’ve already made some great friends and reconnected with some old ones.” Though, I can’t say I’ve been happy about reconnecting with Jase. We seem to clash every time we see each other, and it’s always my fault.
“I’m so glad you reconnected with Paislee. She really missed you when you left, as did Jase.” The end of her sentence catches me off guard.
“What do you mean Jase? I’m sure he just forgot about me.”
“No, he didn’t. He came around daily to check on me and to see if I’d heard from you. He did that for a couple of months.”
My chest constricts. Perhaps he did care. Of course the issue would be me. It always is.
“Hmm, okay. I always thought he’d forgotten about me.” My reply is low.
“Charity, are you okay? I don’t know what happened between you and your father while you were away. I want you to know I’m here for you. If you want to talk to a professional, I’d be happy to arrange that for you as well. I only want the best for you.” Her voice hitches. She clears it away quickly.
“I’m not ready to talk about Dad with anyone.” Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I bite down—hard. Talking about him brings back a rush of emotions I’m not ready to deal with. How do you tell your mother, or even a stranger, that your father abused you? Not only physically, but emotionally. The last ten years have been some of the hardest I’ve endured.
“Did he hurt you?” Reaching over, she takes my hand, and I let her. The warmth that spreads through me from her touch is something I’ve missed.
Pulling my hand from hers, I rub my face with both hands. My eyes burn as tears well in them. “I really don’t want to talk about it,” I choke.
She’s silent a moment then finally says, “It’s okay. I’m here when you’re ready.”
I nod.
Will I ever be ready to talk about life with my father? No, I’d rather burn those memories from my brain, but I can’t. There were days I wished someone would come and take me away from that house. Now I’m free. But how will I ever fit in when I still feel so tied to my past?
After dinner, I have a hug with Mom then make a quick exit. I think she got all she needed from our short conversation about Dad today. I collapse onto my bed when I hear my phone vibrate. I’d put it on silent when I went out with Mom and didn’t really check it. I thought I’d get into trouble if I did. Dad’s rules.
Dragging my emotionally exhausted body from the comfy mattress, I dig my phone from the bag I took shopping today. Five unread messages stare back. Smiling, I go head to my bed. I’ve never had a number of messages from friends. I shake my head to quickly erase the thoughts that were about to invade and stomp all over my happiness.
Paislee: He’s a good guy. So, when is the date happening? I’m so excited for