“If we're going to discuss my mother I need to sit down,” I said turning away from them and walking towards the couch. They followed behind me. I sat down and leaned my elbows on my knees. I held my face up with my fist. “Okay. Let's hear it,” I sighed.
"Dominick and I think your mother needs...help. As you've witnessed her behavior is getting out of hand. We're at a point now where we're genuinely concerned for her well being---"
"And the baby," Dominick added.
"Okay," I said clasping my hands together, "I hear y'all, but why are y'all enlisting my help," I said looking between them. "Has either one of you considered talking to my other siblings about this? I'm not her only child, thank God," I mumbled.
"Baby girl we know, but you're the only one who can really attest to her," he looked around for the word, "outburst." So we figured that maybe you could be of some help."
I threw up my hands and sighed. "Well, what exactly are you two looking to do? Send her to therapy?"
"Yes. Aimé and I think that maybe you could help steer her in the right direction."
"MmMm. Nope," I said putting my hands together and holding them up to my chin. "She's not gonna go for that. Trust me." I sat up. "Number one, she's too prideful to admit that she has a problem. Number two, she's not going to want to hear anything from me. I mean, she thinks that I'm the reason you signed the divorce papers," I said pointing to my dad, "and believe me she is not happy about it. I am the last person she wants to hear from. I'm sorry y'all," I said standing up, "but I don't think this will work. Besides what makes y'all think she'll listen to me?"
My dad started talking. "I know that she's been extremely hard on you lately, but I also know that she has a soft spot for you. You can help her remember that," he said putting his hand over mine. "Just play nice for a little while."
"I'm sorry," I said shaking my head, "but I don't want to manipulate her into going to therapy. She already thinks we're colluding against her. I---I just can't play on her emotions like that. I'm out," I said holding up my hands.
"Alyssa what are you saying," Kevin cut in, "she needs to go. She's been spazzin' for nearly a month now. She threatened our unborn child this morning. You said yourself that you want to file a restraining order against her. You don't want her to get the proper help that she needs?"
"Kevin please, okay. It's not that I don't want her to get help, it's just that if I'm going to reconcile with her I want it to be real, not no manipulative bullshit. She's been a lot of things these past couple of weeks, we know, but she's still my mother."
"That's not how you carry it when you're around her. Y'all go at it like y'all finna throw down in the streets."
I slowly turned my head to look at Kevin. "That may be so, but that doesn't mean she deserves to be bamboozled into a therapy session. I'm all for helping her, but not like that. It's not right."
"So what do you suggest," my dad asked.
I thought for a moment. "How about y'all hold a family meeting. Let her know before hand that you all want to talk with her so thataway she doesn't feel ganged up on. Maybe she'll be a bit more receptive to the idea of therapy after she's heard everyone out."
"Okay," my dad said shaking his head. "I could roll with that."
"And will you be attending this meeting," Dominick asked with his eyebrow raised.
"No. I don't want to push myself into anything prematurely with her and quite frankly I'm not ready to forgive her yet. I already told her I needed more time, so."
