“We lived with our grandparents until they died. I was nineteen and in college already. I was trying to take care of myself and Eddie. He started to get in trouble. Nothing serious. Typical teenage bad behavior. When he turned eighteen he decided to become a cop. I thought that would straighten him out. It did for a while. Several years later, I married your father and had you and Tristan. I never looked back on my trailer-park beginnings. I never wanted to, but Eddie couldn’t let go of the past. He was obsessed with it. He could not escape the memories of our mother and he eventually became just like her. A violent drunk who struck out against others.”
“Uncle Eddie was violent?” Leah had never seen that side of him. He was always so gregarious and boisterous with her and Tristan. Never violent or threatening.
“At times. On his job he was violent. He was too aggressive with the criminals he arrested. He was written up several times. I paid for a lawyer to get him off and it worked, but then he went too far and nothing could save him from Internal Affairs. He nearly killed a guy. That’s when they discovered he was an alcoholic. He lost his job and shortly thereafter his wife and kids. His drinking progressed and then he discovered methamphetamine. He had been teetering precariously over the edge for so long, but meth was the final push that sent him over. His addiction worsened and so did his mental illness. He was bipolar, and the alcohol on top of the disease was more than anyone could handle—including Eddie. Finally my little brother killed himself. A bullet to the brain.”
“I thought he overdosed.” Leah would never forget the day her mother coldly announced that Uncle Eddie had overdosed. How she hated her in that moment, but now she realized that was her mother’s way of coping with grief. She detached herself from it keeping herself numb to the hurt otherwise it would swallow her up whole.
“No. I told you that because I thought it would be worse for you to know that he shot himself. You and Tristan were so young and you loved him so deeply. I wanted to protect you from the horror of the truth.”
“Why are you telling me now, Mom?”
“You asked and I knew it was time you heard the truth. I knew it was time when I read your article. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I made. I never wanted you to be with Alex.”
Leah was not in the mood for another one of her mother’s sermons about why Alex was wrong for her. She’d heard that story too many times. She eventually learned to shut out her mother’s harsh words about Alex.
“I know, Mom. He isn’t good enough for me….”
“I knew he was an addict, Leah,” Francesca interrupted. “I am very familiar with the signs. Like my brother, he was walking the edge of that cliff and I never wanted him to drag you down with him. I knew if he fell you would willingly fall with him. You would follow him to hell. I wanted to protect you from that mistake, but nothing I did worked. I was hoping to stop you by forbidding you to see him, but that was a poor decision. It just made you two closer. Romeo and Juliet defying the odds to be together despite family protests. Star-crossed lovers who would rather die together than live apart. It’s a lovely story in a book or a movie, but not in real life. Not when it’s your child. Then it becomes a nightmare.”
That wasn’t the first time her mother had compared her relationship with Alex to Romeo and Juliet. Leah hated that analogy. Romeo and Juliet was a story of tragedy, and she refused to believe she and Alex would end up the same tortured way.
“That’s not our nightmare, Mom. Alex and I are not some tragedy in the making.” Leah could see her mother’s doubt, as it likely mirrored her own.
“I’ve always wondered how you were doing with him, and then I saw the article and I knew. I wanted to march over here and tell you to give him up and drag you back home where you belong. That was my plan. Not a great one I confess, but I had hoped to bully you into coming back.”
“It won’t work, Mom.”
“I know. While I waited for you to put your bags away, I saw the picture on the wall of you and Alex.” Francesca pointed to the 8x10 black and white picture of Leah holding Alex in her arms as he clutched her tightly resting his head on her chest. Her head resting on top of his, with her eyes closed and a content smile on her face.
“A friend of Alex’s took the picture. He’s a photographer.” At least he was one until, like Alex, he succumbed to addiction. “He asked to take a picture of us for his photo project. We agreed to model for him. He took so many wonderful shots, but this one was our favorite. We weren’t even posing. The shoot was over. Alex said something to me and I just held him close. To our surprise, our picture was taken and this was framed and gifted to us. I always loved this shot.”
“He holds you like you’re the most precious gift in the world to him and you return that affection just as deeply. It’s captured so perfectly in your face. As soon as I saw that photograph, I knew my plans to take you away were all for naught. You won’t give up on him, and you shouldn’t.”
For a moment, Leah thought she misunderstood her mother. That was the last thing she expected her mother to say.
“Wipe that shocked look off your face, Leah. It’s very unbecoming.” Francesca’s stern features softened ever so slightly, and for a moment Leah saw a different side of her mother. The woman she might have been had life not taught her to hide her emotions and adopt a façade of disinterest. Her mask was slipping and Leah could see a glimpse of the pain her mother tried to bury.
“I gave up on my little brother and now he’s dead and I have no family left. No parents, no grandparents, no baby brother. I pushed him away because I was ashamed of him, of his weakness. That was the last thing I said to him. I told him that was a joke and a disappointment to me and I wanted him out of my house. I knew I couldn’t save him from his addiction and I refused to enable him, but I didn’t have to cut him off completely. Everyone we loved had abandoned us at one time and I knew that was Eddie’s greatest fear and yet I let him go. I forced him to go when I was all he had left. Eddie gave up on himself. When you have nothing left to lose, you have no reason to fight to live.”
“Oh, Mom.” Leah sat next to her mother and, for the first time since she was a small child, hugged her. Her mother allowed this display of affection. It was awkward but comforting for Leah. “I had no idea.” Had she known this before their relationship could have been so different. She thought her mother incapable of understanding her struggles, but now she knew her mother understood better than anyone. Like Leah, her mother had loved an addict. Leah had assumed Eddie meant nothing to her mother, but she could see now how wrong she was. Francesca loved her little brother and the loss of him was eating her up inside, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
She wondered if her father had any clue about her mother’s pain. Probably not. David Rhodes was even less interested in emotions than his wife. Leah wondered how her mother had coped for so long keeping her feelings inside never letting anyone help her.
“I wish we would have talked like this before, Mom. We could have helped each other.”
Francesca pulled away. Her mask firmly in place. “I don’t need help. I’ve had years to make peace with my station in life, and I have. I cannot undo what’s been done and I refuse to wallow in it. I don’t want your pity. There’s no need for it. I have a good life. I have a solid husband, two children, a grand home, and all the money I need. I have security and I have comfort. That’s enough for me.”
But not love. Francesca never mentioned love. Maybe she convinced herself she didn’t need it, but Leah knew that was a lie her mother told herself to get through each day.
Francesca surveyed her daughter. “I was surprised to read in your article that you were expecting. Either you are due very soon or you are so depressed that you are eating yourself to death. Neither is ideal for you under the circumstances.”
Leah scowled. Regrettably, her mother would never change and this brief moment of letting down her guard was long gone. Francesca Rhodes, the upper-class cold bitch was back, but this time Leah would not get upset. At least she saw a hint of who her mother really was and understood why she opted for this unflattering personality. She was protecting herself the only way she knew how—attack and push people away so that no one would ever really see her.
Her mother would never change, but at least there was hope they could learn to get along. “I’m due in early March and my weight is perfectly normal according to my doctor.”
“You must admit that having an illegitimate child fathered by a drug addict is not a good move for you right now.”
“Mother…” Leah growled. The woman was insufferable at times.
“I didn’t mean that as an insult. It was just an observation. Next time I will keep my observations to myself.”
“Good idea, Mom.” Hadn’t anyone taught her that if you couldn’t say something nice you shouldn’t say anything at all? Her mother lacked filters. She just spoke her mind, caring little about who she offended. At times it was admittedly amusing, but mostly it was just cruel. No wonder she didn’t have any real friends, but Leah knew her mother didn’t want any. She didn’t want anyone to know the real her.
“Well, this baby gives you even more of a reason to fight for Alex. I may not have liked the boy for you, but anyone with eyes could see he adores you as much as you adore him. That kind of love is worth fighting for. It will bring you lots of pain, but it will bring more joy than you could imagine.”
Her mother sounded so wistful for a moment. Leah wondered if her mother had ever dreamed of such a love. Her parents’ relationship always seemed so cool and distant. At times, they didn’t seem to even like each other. They just tolerated one another to maintain appearances. That was the most important thing to both of them.
“Mom, you are starting to sound like a romantic.”
Francesca scowled. “Oh please. You will ruin my reputation with such silly notions. Romance is for housewives who read silly novels about billionaire lovers who fall for the lowly maid or waitress and whisk them off into paradise where they live happily ever after. Like reality could ever be so kind.”
For a person who seemed to hate the subject, she seemed to know much about it. “It’s escapism, Mom. Nothing wrong with putting your problems aside and fantasizing about something better.”
“That’s the problem with most people. They look for the escape and never face reality. You would do well to learn that, Leah. There are no princes, no knights, no billionaire lovers. There are no heroes, no perfect lovers, no happily ever after in this life. The world’s full of deeply flawed human beings. The goal is to find one you can tolerate enough despite those flaws and build a secure and safe life with until death frees you from this life.”
Leah would never make the mistake of referring to her mother as a romantic again. She was so deeply cynical and hopeless. The only thing she seemed to want out of life was security, and growing up the way she did never feeling secure, Leah could understand her mother’s desire for it—but love should have a role in her life as well. The two did not have to be and should not be mutually exclusive. Trying to convince her mother of that was pointless.
“I have no romantic delusions about life and love, Mom. I have loved an addict my whole life. Believe me, I know how to deal with life’s imperfections.”
“No doubt you do,” Francesca conceded. “Well, I must be going. I would like to see you more often, Leah. Maybe we can try to talk more. Your father would like to see you as well.”
Leah doubted that, but she would keep those feelings to herself.
Her mother continued, “Tristan could use a big sister to guide him. That boy is a migraine.”
“That’s because you spoil him rotten.” Tristan was overindulged, and Leah suspected her parents spoiled him even more when she left.
Francesca nodded. “I often wish he was more like you,” she said, and Leah nearly choked from surprise. She spent most of her life believing her mother resented her for who she was, and yet she wished Tristan were more like her? “But, alas, you can’t pick your children. So you make the best with what you get.”
She would never win mother of the year, but Leah knew she would rather have her in her life than be without her. Her mother had a tough life, tougher than she appreciated until now. She was glad her mother finally opened up to her and allowed her some insight on what made Francesca Rhodes into the woman she became. A childhood of addiction and loss forced her to toughen up at a young age. The result was that she became so hard, so emotionally detached. Leah hoped one day she would soften enough and allow herself to embrace love at least from her children and grandchildren. A life this empty and hollow was not a life worth living. Francesca Rhodes deserved more than she allowed herself.
Francesca made the first move by opening the door of communication and reaching out to Leah. Leah would keep that door open and work on having some kind of relationship with her mother. They might never be close and loving, but they could still be something worth fighting for. It would not be easy, as there was still so much hurt from the past, but Leah felt that hurt lessen after listening to her mother’s painful words.
She wished for her mother’s sake that she would allow herself to embrace some type of happiness. By shutting her emotions to block out pain she also shielded herself from feeling anything good like love, like happiness.
“Mom, I would like to see you, all of you, more often. Maybe we can do dinner.”
“Christmas Eve dinner would be nice,” Francesca suggested. “We always have dinner and then attend church together. It has been too long since you’ve last joined us. It would be nice for you to be there as well this year. Let me know if you can come. I will arrange a place setting for you.”
“It would be nice. I’ll see you then, Mom.”
Francesca patted her on the shoulder and left. Two hugs in one day would probably give her a stroke, Leah mused.
Regardless, for the first time in years, Leah felt hope that she could have a relationship with her family. It would never be warm and fuzzy, but at least it could be. She could use her family’s support, especially if Alex lost the war against heroin.