My mistakes will make me strong
I'm stepping out into the great unknown
I'm feeling wings though I've never flown
Got a mind of my own
I'm flesh and blood to the bone
I'm not made of stone
“Right to be Wrong” - Joss Stone
I spend my days at the local Barnes & Noble bookstore so much that the manager offered me a cashier position - I gladly took it. I needed all the money I could get until I started my first year as a teacher in the fall. What job is better than to be surrounded by books all day long? Just thinking about it brings a smile to my face.
Living with Zora and having not to pay any of rent or bills left me feeling uneasy. I wanted to offer some help in any way that I could (even though, I knew she didn’t need any). Zora insisted that I take the job to have extra money for me and me only - she said that the house and the bills she had under control - for the time being.
It was now late in the afternoon and I had clocked out about two hours before but I had stayed in the store, searching random books when my body instantly froze at the sight before me. My throat began to become dry and my palms were sweaty.
Oh, God.
Its my mother. I had avoided her that one night at the grocery store but now I could do nothing but stand there as she had noticed me from across the store and rushed to my presence, her blue eyes shooting dangers upon me. I’d promised myself to become a much stronger person than I am but being around her made me feel weak.
The shields that I was trying to let down suddenly were brought back up as she finally recognized me and scowled. “How long have you been in town?”
No, hello. No, how are you. Nothing.
I felt suddenly hot and out of place around her and my sweaty hands immediately began tugging on the hem of my red blouse, trying to pull it over my small bulge of a belly - I seem to always find myself doing this when I’m around her because she has made it apparent that no one wants to see my flabby stomach and tiny stretch marks.
Her hair is in curls and is flowing freely down her shoulders, her skin has very few wrinkles and I’m surprised at this since my mother is fifty-seven - I was what she called a ’late bloomer’ because my mother became pregnant with me after going through a point where she thought she was experiencing menopause when in fact - she had been with child.
She has on a professional dress suit - I’ve never seen her dress anything but classy when she exits her house because she knows she has an image to up hold in this dumb town. My mother grips her purse tighter as she squints her eyes at me, “Are you deaf?”
I find my voice now and I speak, “I’ve been back for about a month.”
Mabel cocks her head to the side and places a hand upon her thin hip. I try to focus on anything but her eyes - since I was child, I hated looking at my mother’s eyes because I was convinced they were cursed. I focus on her thin line of lip liner shaping her small, heart-shaped mouth.
“This is news.” She says now, her face never showing any sort of emotion so I have no clue as to what she is thinking. “You didn’t have the decency to contact me or your father to let us know you’ve come back home?” She shakes her head, disapprovingly. “Shame on you, Sadie Anne.”
My heart is beating furiously and I’m starting to sweat underneath of my armpits - my mother has this effect on me. I feel no longer like I’m a grown woman with a college degree but instead I am my mother’s child and I am once again sixteen and continually attacked by her.
I know I’m wrong for not letting my parents know that I returned back to Memphis but I didn’t want to see them, more importantly, I didn’t want to see my mother. I was having fun. I was actually socializing with people and I didn’t know if I would be able to continue if I had to be around Mabel - she made me feel less than a human being.
I felt beneath myself when I was in her presence and I knew she liked that.
I finally bring my eyes to hers and shudder at the sight, “I apologize.”
Mabel watches me for a moment before responding, “Well, its done so we can only move on from that, right?” I nod my head in response. God, I feel like I’m twelve years old. “Your hair looks nice, I like the color - but I see you haven’t been sticking to that diet since you left town.” Yeah, of course she would have to throw in there that I gained weight during my absence.
When I left for Austin, I was around the size of about a nine bordering on a ten - and my mother called this obese. Before leaving, she had given me a strict diet that she expected me to follow - she had the notion that if I followed this daily menu of foods and exercise, I would be a size two when I returned home four years later.
Well, that didn’t happen, obviously. It wasn’t as if I didn’t try to do the diet, I’m just the type of person that isn’t used to changing myself - I am the way I am. I know I’m always going to be about thirty pounds over my “supposed” to be weight and I’ve come to accept that. Not all people are meant to be small and I believe that I am one of them.
“I t-tried.” I stutter slightly, nervous.
My mother still has no expression on her features. I become uneasy. “Don’t stutter, Sadie - it’s a sign of weakness.” She moves closer to me and I instantly step back, I’m frightened as to what she will do. Her lips purse when I do this. “Stop being scared, child, I’m not going to do anything to you.”
I let out an exhausted breath and glance behind me. I want to know if anyone is witnessing my momentary breakdown - I see no one is watching and I turn my attention back to the woman before me. I wish I had one of my sisters here to save me from the evil witch - but I had already known this day would be inevitable, I would see my mother one day, any day, I just had to be prepared for it.
And I obviously was not.
“Momma, what do you want from me?” I ask now, curiously.
She crosses her arms in front of her small chest, “I want nothing from you, Sadie and you made it so clear that you want nothing for yourself, either. Look at you - your body looks fabulously out of control and you are doing nothing to stop it.” I need to get away from her, now. “I’m ashamed to claim you as mine.”
Tears cloud my vision and I can no longer try to be strong. She has done it again - she has broken me. “Because I’m fat?” I ask, incredulously, my eyes widen when she still says nothing. “You’ve never loved me then, Momma, never.”
Mabel does not falter at my fragile appearance, she even looks more upset by the fact that I have the nerve to cry in public. “Be quiet, Sadie.” She says now, not wanting to make a scene.
I step back once again and bring my fingertips to my eyes, wiping away my salty tears. “Its okay, Momma, I’m leaving now, all right?” She seems relieved, happy even and I feel an ache in my heart. “You don’t have to claim me as yours anymore because from this day on - I’m an orphan.”
She looks shocked that I’ve said this and I turn away from her daggering eyes and head out of the building with my heart still aching. I try to fight through the pain but I cannot, its impossible. I know what’s she done and it hurts me even more to realize it now as I head to the car.
My mother has broken my heart.
* * *
I’ve made the decision not to let my sisters in on my little encounter with our mother. I had to grasp the situation at hand first, before I went off babbling my mouth to anyone - in a way I had stood up to my mother, and also in a way, I felt as if she had diminished a piece of me.
I made a silent vow to myself after I left my mother that I wouldn’t let myself crumble before her sight because I’ve learned she takes delight in seeing my destruction - I wouldn’t give her that pleasure, anymore. And when I proclaimed to her that I was no longer her child, I meant it.
I’m not the most stable person when it comes to handling my emotions but even I know that there is a breaking point as to how much a person is going to take being treated like total crap before they take a stand for themselves. I love Mabel - I’ve always loved my mother. As a toddler, I remember sitting on my parents’ king sized bed and watching her as she sat in front of her mirror and prepared herself for the day - to me, my mother was a goddess.
Jade and Zora have always been the knock-out beauties in my household but they wouldn’t look the way they do if it wasn’t for our mother’s genes. Mabel Kennedy could’ve been a model if she truly had aspired to be it - of course, I don’t think my mother has ever had any aspiration to do anything for herself except be my father’s wife and our mother.
She never spoke of her dreams. I’m not even sure if she even had dreams for herself. I just assumed she lived her dreams through Jade - my eldest sister is the only one of our clan to actually get away and keep her promise to not return. I had made that same promise four years ago and look at me now.
I love my mother but it was evident that the love I had for her would never be reciprocated and so I was through with trying to be what she wanted me to be. Accept me for who I am or just leave me alone. We all know where my mother’s alliances lie when it relates to me.
I shook my head to rid my thoughts and did what always seems to comfort me when I’m stressing out - eat. I had begun to get used to the fact that Zora didn’t like staying in the house as much as I did - every chance she got, she was gone. And I never spent as much time with Kyle anymore because it was summer and he would rather spend his days with children his age than his aunt - I understand that.
So, if I’m not working or reading, I find myself eating. I don’t eat when I’m not hungry, that’s just crazy but I tend to eat too much when I’m stressed, like now - I’ve already gone through one full bag of Oreo cookies, a pint of Ice cream, and now I find myself eating chocolate chip cookie dough.
Seriously, I am.
I’m licking my sticky fingers when the phone in the living room sounds off, I immediately freeze because I’m terrified that it might be my mother. I do not want to talk to her. My heart is steadily increasing now and I feel beats of sweat form onto the base of my neck.
Get over yourself. I chew on my bottom lip and just decide to get it over with - I answer the phone and to my relief, I’m met with a male’s voice. I immediately think its my sister’s new ‘friend’ she has been hanging out with lately and I smile because I’m happy my sister has finally found someone that makes her happy.
At least one of us Kennedy sisters will be happy.
So, imagine my surprise when the man asks to speak to - me! I hope Zora hasn’t decided to try to set me up with anyone because it would never work out - in high school, I would answer the phone for my sisters and various of their guy friends would try to talk to me but when they would finally see me, they acted as if they didn’t know me.
I was never hurt by this. I’ve learned that I have what they call a ‘skinny’ voice on the phone - how a person can think that they can tell what a person’s appearance is by the way they talk is beyond me.
But that’s the male species for you. Idiots, I tell you.
I lick my lips quickly. “This is she.” I cock my head to the side, and sit on the edge of the sofa, “Who is calling?”
I hear his breathing increase on the line, and I wait, patiently - when he still doesn’t say anything, I figure he’s realized how much of an mistake he’s made by calling me but once again I am surprised. “Oh, hey!” Suddenly his monotone voice becomes slightly energetic, and my brows rise in interest. “This is Trace.”
Trace? I don’t even try to wrap my mind around who this guy is because I know I’ve never met him - I can remember every guy that has ever taken time out of his schedule to get to know me and I know he isn’t one of the two or three. “I don’t think we’ve met.” I speak, cautiously.
He snickers. “We have but not on good terms, I guess you can say. My partner in crime is Justin Timberlake.” My eyes widen. Oh, no. What does he want? “Don’t hang up, okay?”
Even though I should and I want to, I remain on the phone. “I wanted to say I’m sorry for how he’s been acting towards you and my part in it - I’ve known your sisters most of my life and Justin should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”
I am again, surprised. Almost immediately, my heart warms at his gesture of sincerity and I’m touched. I don’t want to have to associate with Justin ever again but I know that if I see Trace in town, I will be kind to him. “Thank you for that.”
There is a beat of silence and I’m not sure what else to say in situations like these so I ask about Justin, finally. “Is Justin okay? I mean, he doesn’t seem like he’s happy.”
Trace’s energetic voice diminishes as he speaks now, it is as if he is telling me a secret that he is frightened of being caught telling. “He’s not okay and he’s not happy.” He sighs, “I’ve done a lot of stupid shit with the guy thinking that in the long run, he’ll get better - but things only seem to get worse. I’m through with the drugs and I’m through with using women cause there’s nothing there for me anymore.”
I don’t know what to say, so I remain quiet. “Justin’s got a lot of inner demons and I don’t think I can help him fight them anymore - I just think I’m making things worse.” I hear him take a deep breath, it is obvious to me that this Justin fellow means a lot to him. “I’m sorry, Sadie - I know you don’t want to hear my fucked up version of life.”
I shake my head as if he can see me. “Its okay.” I bite down on my lower lip before choosing to speak again. “Sometimes you have to take a step back from the people that you love the most.” As I say this, the image of my mother enters my thoughts.
In the background, I can now hear someone asking to speak to whoever Trace is talking to and I freeze up because I’m almost one hundred percent positive that it is Justin. Now, it is time for me to get off of the phone.
Without saying another word, I hang up the phone and my hand lingers on the base of phone, shaking. I feel for Trace and I don’t even know him. Its hard to want to do everything you can for the person you love and see that its never good enough. My heart reaches out to the man - he and I have something in common.
I shake my head. If it wasn’t for Justin being his friend, I could actually picture myself getting to know Trace and as I think this, a shiver runs through my spine. I must be crazy to even think a guy like him would even stoop to my level.
I’m not even sloppy seconds or a third helping - I’m the trash that always gets thrown away and overlooked - time and time again.
* * *
