A Million Mistakes

Chapter 24

"Can we talk?"

I looked back at where May and Gerad slept soundly on my bed. In my absence, they had curled together. I weighed my options. I could, A) be an adult and have a much needed conversation with my parents or I could B) act like a 17 year old and put this conversation off preferably forever. I looked back at May. Kenny reminds me so much of May, physically but also in her personality and quirks. And I'm also starting to realize how much having May as my little sister, helped prepare me to be a mother. I know she would want mom and I to make up. And I kind of owe it to her.

I heard Maxons voice in my head telling me that I owe it to myself also, but I ignored it.

"Of course," I agreed, quietly shutting the door behind me.

"Where can we talk?" Dad asked.

I pursed my lips. "There's sitting rooms and lounges everywhere. I'm sure we can find one nearby."

I knew exactly where the closest one is but I'm trying to play it off cool. I walked a few steps, hearing their footsteps follow me, until I reached the nearest sitting room. I pushed the door open, poking my head in and making sure no one was in there. The coast was clear. I led them inside and we all got comfortable on neighboring couches. I'm not sure any of us were really sure how to begin this conversation I'm not sure there is a proper way to begin this conversation.

"Look America. I'm sorry—."

"Don't do that," I interrupted.

She sent me an agitated look.

"What mom? I know what you were going to say. You were going to apologize to me but—."

"But what? I'm not? That's what you were going to say. Do you really think I don't regret kicking my daughter out of my house? I regret it—."

"I don't want you to—."

"Ladies!" My dad yelled. "This conversation isn't going to go anywhere if you continuously interrupt one another."

I didn't want to have this serious conversation. Because I'd never had to ask myself or her the serious question before now. I'd always thought I'd known the answer. But if there's anything I've learned being a mother, its that things aren't black or white. You don't just do things for one reason. There are layers and subcategories for everything you do. I'd never asked for the rainbow. I'd always just accepted the black and white. But if I was going to have this conversation...I needed the rainbow.

"Why?"

My moms forehead crinkled in confusion. "What?"

"Why did you do it?" I repeated slowly. I looked down at my hands, which I was wringing nervously. I made myself stop and look her in the eyes. "Why did you kick me out?"

"I...."

"Why," I said louder. Angrier. "Did you kick your daughter out while she was pregnant and needed her mother most? What kind of person leaves her daughter on the streets with nothing but the child growing in her stomach. Why did you do it Mom? Why!"

My mother was stunned. All she could do was blink and stutter, reaching for what to say to explain herself.

"You were being secretive," Mom tried to explain. "And you kept on doing things that weren't like you and I didn't know what else to do."