Chapter1
I pulled up alongside my mother’s house and plaster ed a smile on my face. I checked my smile quickly in the rear-view mirror for authenticity. It wasn’t perfect – there was something in my eyes that refused to cooperate with my lips – but it would have to do. Now to go inside and see if she notices my fake grin.
For the hundredth time that day, I asked myself exactly why I had thought it a good idea to suggest that my mother and I spend the weekend together in a small tent, in an isolated part of the forest, with only each other for company.
Then for the hundredth time that day, I told myself sternly that it was madness. I was as crazy as she was. I should make up an excuse to get out of it somehow – I was sick, I had suddenly remembered a deadline I had forgotten about, anything! Then I could turn my car around and drive a hundred miles in the opposite direction.
The lace curtains in the front window twitched and caught my attention. There she stood - her round, pale face peeking hesitantly in the tiny crack in the curtains. Seeing me, she wiggled her fingers in the tiniest, most inconspicuous of waves, and grinned broadly. The stark relief on her face made me cringe inwardly and, for the hundredth time that day, I yelled at myself for being so damned selfish. Despite the endless phone calls I had made, reassuring her over and over again that yes I would be picking her up on Friday at four pm, she had still doubted me. It was as though she had read my mind and knew how much I didn’t want to spend time with her.
But, at the end of the day, she was my mother. She drove me nuts. She made me question my own sanity. She made me want to scream and tear out my hair. But, in the end, I love her and I would do anything for her.
Baring my teeth into an even wider smile, I waved back, braced myself, and opened my door to welcome her. Little did I know this would be an interesting weekend in more ways then one.
*
She dipped her head in that apologetic little bow she always did, hesitated, then leaned up to kiss me on the cheek. Her lips were cold and hard, and it was all I could do not to wince.
Seventy-two hours and counting, I told myself with gritted teeth.
“ You’re looking well,” Mom told me earnestly, pulling me into the lounge. “It feels like forever since I last saw you…” her voice trailed off in reproach.
“ Yeah well.” I shrugged awkwardly. “I’ve been busy with school. Sorry. Anyway, I figured this would give us time for a decent catch up. Just you and me, right?” My own voice – bright and fake – was painful to my own ears.
But Mom didn’t seem to notice. She squeezed my hand tightly, delighted with my enthusiasm. “A proper catch up,” she echoed, smiling at the feel of the words on her tongue. “Yeah, it’s been long overdue. I’ve been looking forward to it for ages.”
Every word sounded like a reproach; every word a criticism of me as a daughter. I could feel my head beginning to ache with the strain of it already. It would almost be better if she yelled at me – telling me how much she hated me for not doing more, for not being better , for being the selfish bitch that I knew I was. Anything was more bearable than this pathetic, scraping gratitude. It was like she was a whipped dog, begging for scraps of affection, no matter how sparse. I wished I had never come. I wished that I had the courage to say ‘fuck it’ and just leave.
I glanced past her to the old, blue plastic clock mounted above the door. Seventy-one hours and fifty-five minutes to go… I was pretty sure that this was going to be the longest, most excruciating weekend of my life.
*
My car was so full, with the door of the trunk practically straining from the ridiculous amount of camping gear I managed to stuff into it. I can feel every single bump in the road on our way to the Vanderwhacker Mountain Wild Forest. I chose our destination based on my
I pulled up alongside my mother’s house and plaster ed a smile on my face. I checked my smile quickly in the rear-view mirror for authenticity. It wasn’t perfect – there was something in my eyes that refused to cooperate with my lips – but it would have to do. Now to go inside and see if she notices my fake grin.
For the hundredth time that day, I asked myself exactly why I had thought it a good idea to suggest that my mother and I spend the weekend together in a small tent, in an isolated part of the forest, with only each other for company.
Then for the hundredth time that day, I told myself sternly that it was madness. I was as crazy as she was. I should make up an excuse to get out of it somehow – I was sick, I had suddenly remembered a deadline I had forgotten about, anything! Then I could turn my car around and drive a hundred miles in the opposite direction.
The lace curtains in the front window twitched and caught my attention. There she stood - her round, pale face peeking hesitantly in the tiny crack in the curtains. Seeing me, she wiggled her fingers in the tiniest, most inconspicuous of waves, and grinned broadly. The stark relief on her face made me cringe inwardly and, for the hundredth time that day, I yelled at myself for being so damned selfish. Despite the endless phone calls I had made, reassuring her over and over again that yes I would be picking her up on Friday at four pm, she had still doubted me. It was as though she had read my mind and knew how much I didn’t want to spend time with her.
But, at the end of the day, she was my mother. She drove me nuts. She made me question my own sanity. She made me want to scream and tear out my hair. But, in the end, I love her and I would do anything for her.
Baring my teeth into an even wider smile, I waved back, braced myself, and opened my door to welcome her. Little did I know this would be an interesting weekend in more ways then one.
*
She dipped her head in that apologetic little bow she always did, hesitated, then leaned up to kiss me on the cheek. Her lips were cold and hard, and it was all I could do not to wince.
Seventy-two hours and counting, I told myself with gritted teeth.
“ You’re looking well,” Mom told me earnestly, pulling me into the lounge. “It feels like forever since I last saw you…” her voice trailed off in reproach.
“ Yeah well.” I shrugged awkwardly. “I’ve been busy with school. Sorry. Anyway, I figured this would give us time for a decent catch up. Just you and me, right?” My own voice – bright and fake – was painful to my own ears.
But Mom didn’t seem to notice. She squeezed my hand tightly, delighted with my enthusiasm. “A proper catch up,” she echoed, smiling at the feel of the words on her tongue. “Yeah, it’s been long overdue. I’ve been looking forward to it for ages.”
Every word sounded like a reproach; every word a criticism of me as a daughter. I could feel my head beginning to ache with the strain of it already. It would almost be better if she yelled at me – telling me how much she hated me for not doing more, for not being better , for being the selfish bitch that I knew I was. Anything was more bearable than this pathetic, scraping gratitude. It was like she was a whipped dog, begging for scraps of affection, no matter how sparse. I wished I had never come. I wished that I had the courage to say ‘fuck it’ and just leave.
I glanced past her to the old, blue plastic clock mounted above the door. Seventy-one hours and fifty-five minutes to go… I was pretty sure that this was going to be the longest, most excruciating weekend of my life.
*
My car was so full, with the door of the trunk practically straining from the ridiculous amount of camping gear I managed to stuff into it. I can feel every single bump in the road on our way to the Vanderwhacker Mountain Wild Forest. I chose our destination based on my
Similar Books
