Flying Too Close to the Sun

America

My mom had allowed me to go back to the Mirandas, so I thought it was finally time to pay her another visit.  I was still planning on emancipating from her, and I knew she was probably still upset about it.

You had to have an adult go with you, so I asked Pippa.  She gladly took me and we got signed in.  A few minutes later, I was being led to the visitation carrels once again.  My mom looked a little less happy to see me this time.  We both picked up the phones.

"Hi, Mom," I tried to greet her warmly.

"Hi," she said shortly.

I cleared my throat a little bit, feeling nervous.  "Thanks for letting me go back to the Mirandas'.  I like it there."

"So I heard," she told me, examining her fingernails.  Even in prison, they were immaculate. 

"Mom, I'm sorry," I went on.  "I don't want to hurt you, but I need to get away."

"Get away from the person who gave you life?" she said, immediately on the defensive.

I sighed a little, knowing I owed her an explanation.  "Mom, being with the Mirandas has shown me just how messed up our life was.  You have so much drama that I can't think.  You had me steal for you as a little kid.  That's fucked up."

"You always knew you were loved," she countered.

"But Mom, you stress me out," I tried to explain.  "You're always doing something conniving and I'm sick of it.  I'm sick of making enemies because of what you do.  I just want to be able to go to school and be a normal teenager."

"And you can do that with the Mirandas?" she asked.

"Yes," I told her. 

"And what?  You're all buddy-buddy with that daughter of theirs now?"

"We get along," I told her.  "Now that you're not making me part of your drama with them."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm such a burden to you," she said coldly.  "Sorry I spent fifteen hours in labor with you.  Sorry I fed you and kept a roof over your head for sixteen years."

"Mom-" I was starting to tear up.  I never wanted to hurt my mom, but she was obviously upset.  "I love you and I appreciate everything you've done for me, but-"

"You're an ungrateful little brat," she spat at me, looking at me like she was disgusted.  "Don't come visit me again."

She hung up the phone and stormed away.  I sat there, stunned.  I let the tears flow as I stared at the empty seat that my mother had just occupied.  She'd hurt me like I'd hurt her, I guess.

A minute or so later, I stood up shakily and walked out to the waiting room.  Pippa looked up at me and instantly was on her feet.  Her arms closed around me and I started sobbing.

"Ssshhhh," she tried to soothe me as she just held me.  How was this woman, who'd only known me for a few months, whose children I'd hurt, already more of a mother to me than my own mom ever was?

"She's so mad at me," I finally managed, my face buried in her shoulder.

"The whole situation is just upsetting," she acknowledged.  "But you're doing what you have to do.  You're so strong."

"Then why am I crying?" I asked her, pulling back.  Her hands were on my arms, rubbing gently.

"Because you've been strong for too long," she said.  "You're allowed to break down."

I wiped at my eyes and she handed me some tissues from her purse.

"How about we go home?" she suggested.  "We'll eat ice cream with extra chocolate syrup."