I believed it all, and the list went on and on and on until I was eleven.
Knock. One brief, but hard knock.
I tensed, listening, not ready to go back out.
I heard voices. A male one. My mom’s, loud and excited.
Then, murmuring and I heard, “Excuse me?”
Cruz said something to her.
I needed to go out there. I needed to help him.
He didn’t even know the situation. I really needed to go out there.
There was more murmuring. His was low, calm. Hers–I was expecting it to be angry. That’s how she was when someone tried to enforce boundaries. Boundaries meant her not getting what she wanted.
I had to go.
I forced myself up, opening the door, stepping out.
“Mara!” Her mouth was tight. The beginning stages of a full-blown meltdown was going to ensue soon. “You didn’t tell me that this house needs to be evacuated.”
I opened my mouth, flicked my eyes to Cruz, who was nodding still so calmly.
He said, “Yep. I just talked to Miles downstairs. Something wrong with the ventilation and everyone’s leaving for the night.” He nodded to a bag. “Is this your bag, ma’am?”
“Ma’am.” Her tone was curt.
He ignored that, picking up her bag and put his arm through the strap. His eyes went to me, giving me a little appraisal before giving me a nod. “You got your stuff ready? I was just telling your mom that you’re spending the night at my place, but we’re at full capacity so I won’t be able to get a bed for her. Last minute and all.”
He was saving me. He was giving me time.
I jerked my head in a nod. “Right. Mom, you need to go. I have a full week ahead of me, and I can’t slip in any of my classes.”
“But–”
“You drove here?” I was praying, Please God, she drove here. Not that she got a ride from someone.
“Yeah, but–”
“Okay. Great. Come on.” I grabbed my bag, putting all my things inside and went to my room, grabbing a second set of clothes. A few of my toiletries.
Cruz saw me coming and opened the door. I led the way. My mom came behind at a slower pace. I heard Cruz shutting the door. He would’ve locked it behind him, or I was hoping, but at this rate, I didn’t care. Getting out of here, getting her out of here was all I needed.
I was gasping for it like I was drowning.
Her presence, her demands, her emotional manipulation was starting to come over me like a blanket. The suffocation was real. The more I was around her, the weaker I got until it was easier to give her what she wanted, do what she wanted.
I was barely keeping it together once we got downstairs. Spotting Cruz’s truck, I knew I needed to play my part.
I turned, a forced smile on my face. I went over, hugged my mom. She stiffened at first before clasping me back. I tried to pull back, but she wouldn’t let me. I heard another sob as she buried her head in my neck. “Oh, Mara, honey. I’ve missed you so much. I only thought of you when I was in the hospital–”
“Did you call me? Did you call and leave a message, but didn’t say anything on it?” I stepped back, keeping my feelings suppressed and my face blank, but I had to know. Everything else needed to be shut down so she couldn’t read me. She couldn’t use anything she saw or felt to manipulate me or anyone at this rate.
She didn’t answer. Her mouth pressed into a line, and she looked up and to the right. That was her tell. She was searching for a lie. She had called me.
I shook my head. “Never mind. There’s your car. I’ll see you, Mom.”
“Wha–wait.”
“Here you go, ma’am.” He put her bag at her feet. Then, we were walking down the driveway. He was slightly behind me, blocking me a little.
“Mara!”
Her voice broke, and my resolve almost shattered at hearing that anguished emotion from her.
I slowed…
“No.” Cruz said it softly, touching the small of my back. “Keep going. You know you have to.”
I had no idea how he knew what to do, how to handle her. It was a lifeline and I was grabbing hold of it. My mom was shouting my name, but we kept going to his truck.
I got in the passenger door.
He went around, getting in, and I glanced over once. My mom had stopped at the driveway, her bag in her hand. Her mouth was hanging open. Her hands were in fists, but she looked utterly dejected. Another dent in my wall. She was my mother. I loved her, but I couldn’t let her in. If I did, she’d destroy me and get mad when I was broken, because I couldn’t give her any more, because she’d been the one to break me.
“Miles?” I looked at the house. The lights were off. “The others?”
“Miles got me upstairs. Had to go through the house, but he asked what was up. I had a feeling.”
“But–” My mind was still wheeling. “How did you know any of that?”
“Your voice was shaking. You told me you needed help. Mara, you don’t ever need anyone. Miles told me about the lady visiting you. I didn’t know who was up there, but if you could’ve got out, you would’ve. I guessed. I hope I was right?”
I was barely hearing him, still focused that she’d been at my apartment. My safe place.
“I have to move.”
“No, you don’t. You can’t run from someone like that.”
“How do you know?”
He didn’t answer, his jaw clenching. He jerked his head to the side, staring straight ahead as we drove back to the hockey house. “I just do.”
Right. No personal shit, except we were so far wading into personal shit.
“What’d you tell my roommates?”
“Told them that woman in your apartment wasn’t your mom, that she was a con woman.”
“What?”
“Told them we needed to get her out of there asap and I wasn’t sure if you wanted the cops called. Skylar was the one who said about the evacuation thing. Said she had a creepy uncle and they needed to pull that excuse a few times to get him out of their house.”
I couldn’t. I mean, I could, but I couldn’t because that was ingenious. What he told them, what Skylar thought of and now my mom had no idea where to go or who to turn to for allies. I groaned, thinking on that, because she couldn’t stay. I was so scared she’d get a motel room, shack up with a guy, and start stalking me around college. I could not have that. I would not have that.
I needed to let my dad know what happened, but I couldn’t call. I’d break down.
Me: Mom is here in Grant West. She was in my apartment, but she’s out and I’m staying with a friend. I have no idea what she’ll do after. I cannot talk about it or I’m going to lose it. Please do something to get her away from here.
A part of me always wondered when he would decide enough was enough. That I was on my own with her. Every time I sent a text like this, like when I was eleven and bleeding in my room and I had to text the dad who hated me, when I asked for help–I expected him not to respond.
Cruz pulled up to the twenty-four-seven grocery store.
“What are we doing here?”
He shut the engine off and turned to me. “Well. I figure if we go back to the house, you’re going to break down and then you’re going to hate that you broke down. And I’m hungry, but I know you have a real aversion to anything date-like, so I figured let’s take a stroll through the grocery store. I get my food. You won’t break down and it’s not a date at all. Win, win, and win.”