I know, it's been a while. I promise I am going to work on being more consistent. You learn a little more about Spencer in this one. Reviews are lovely.
She's been walking. She's been absentmindedly walking, well, only kind of. See, she knows where her feet are going to lead her, but at the same time she is not taking in anything she passes. She isn't watching the people walk by her and smile; she doesn't pay too much attention to those people who are honking from their cars. She is just content with walking.
Knowing that she must meet with her mother, who she hasn't seen in a little over two years, makes her nervous. It makes her heart drop a little, makes her smile fade a little. She doesn't want to see her mother. She doesn't want to sit and have a civil conversation with her. All she really wants to do is sit in Ashley's apartment and giggle with the musician. She wants to avoid the inevitable conversations with her mother. She really wants life, for just a moment, to seem simple. She wants life, for just a moment, to be kind.
However, it's pretty common knowledge that life does not slow, nor is it kind, until we are dead and buried six feet under. That is the only time we get a break of any sort. So our little Spencer here knows she must walk to the small diner on the corner of the block, near the graffiti alley which is the spot for many teen hipsters to bring their expensive cameras and take mediocre pictures. She knows her mother will take the spot away from the window, forcing the blonde to sit with her back to it, because her mother knows how distracted a window can make the girl.
It only takes the blonde a few short moments to make her way to the diner. It only takes her eleven short minuets of standing outside of it to walk in. It only takes her eight small steps to make it to the table that sits the older blonde.
"Spencer dear, what on earth are you wearing? Has the city killed your sense of fashion?"
Paula Carlin as never been one for subtleties if she has something on her mind, be sure that she will say it. She is a harsh women, she never waters down her words. She is the evil stepmother in all the movies except in this movie, she's the real mom, and there isn't a nice kindhearted mom waiting to burst out of her chest.
"Yeah Mom, hello to you too."
Spencer says this dryly. She is no longer her perky cheery self. She seems cold, and a tad bit bitter. She is visibly frustrated, and the tension between the two blondes is growing thick.
The waitress staff behind the counter is arguing about who will take the table. The bus boy and the hostess are making a bet that one of the blondes will get a drink spilled, or a slap across the face, before the end of their visit here. It's obvious to anyone who is anyone that this pair could be deadly, and they don't want to thrust themselves between it if they don't have to.
"So Spencer, how is your little writing job?"
Paula has never been supportive of her daughter. She hasn't approved of anything Spencer has chosen since ninth grade when Spencer tried out for the cheerleading squad.
"It's good. I just finished a piece on perspectives."
Paula nods, obviously not really listening.
"So, uh, how's the rest of the family."
Paula rolls her eyes. All she lets herself believe is that the girl sitting across from her is the person who made all the wrong lifestyle choices that destroyed the mother daughter relationship that they had once held dear. In her eyes, this girl across from her made the selfish decision to walk out on her family to move away when things got a little bit rough. In her eyes, this girl across from her is no longer her daughter, but some girl she happens to know now.
"You would know if you called more often. You would know if you didn't leave."
This angers Spencer. Because this isn't fair, she didn't have much of a choice. But before Spencer can say anything, the waitress who lost in a roaring game of rock paper scissors, comes to their table.
"Hello, I'm Anne; I'll be waiting on you today. Can I start you off with anything?"
Paula just hand her the empty coffee mug in front of her gesturing that she would like more coffee. Spencer however politely says that she won't need anything but water this afternoon.
"She looks like your type. You know, slut."
This sets Spencer off.
"Paula. If you want to be childish, then go be childish back in Ohio where I don't have to hear anything you say. You sit there and assume that I left because I was running away, and maybe in a sense I was running away. But the only thing I ran away from is you. I couldn't stand to have my own mother belittling me in my own house anymore. I apologize for being such a burden to you. But I won't change just to make you like me again."
Spencer is using that voice; you know the one that is intense, loud, and effective, but barely over a whisper as if trying to hide the fact that there is an argument going on in this diner.
Paula looks a little bit shocked. The old Spencer would not dare say anything like this to her. The old Spencer would have just sat there in silence and taken in every word.
"Please do excuse me for not enjoying waking up to find random sluts under the covers with my daughter on multiple occasions. You must be aware that there could have been other ways for you to express to your father and I that you were gay. You have to know that everything that happened is not my fault, and I refuse to take complete blame. Yes, I made mistakes in the way I handled things, and I regret those mistakes every day of my life, because those mistakes made me lose my daughter. However, you made an equal amount of mistakes as well Spencer, mistakes that cost you your family."
Paula, unlike Spencer, did not try to calm her words. She made no attempt to speak in that angry whisper yelling tone. She let it all out. She spit her words like daggers, and for the first time in years, Spencer was just like that little girl again. She just sat there as her mother yelled. She just took in every word.
They sat there in silence for a few moments, and Paula decided to speak.
"There are things you cannot change in your life Spencer, I know that, but there are steps you could have taken to avoid this moment."
Spencer sat and reflected. Of course sneaking girls into her house at 16 wasn't a good idea. Obviously, speaking to her parents about things could have made things easier. Yeah, maybe moving away put strain on the whole situation…
"Mom, you are the one who asked me to leave. You are the one who said this wasn't acceptable, that I wasn't acceptable. You are the driving force of my every move. You are the reason I left. I could have done things differently, but now I can't. You could have accepted me, but now it's too late. Sitting here, and being a bitch to me doesn't change the past. It only fucks up the future that much more."
Throughout this whole exchange Anne has been watching for a moment where it could be a little safe for her to bring over Paula's coffee. However, after hearing about the bet between the hostess and the bus boy, she decides that hot liquids might not be a good idea.
"Spencer Carlin, do not blame me for your bad choices."
Spencer laughs. Not a 'haha' laugh, but a cold humorless laugh.
"Bad choices like what, being gay? Because I chose that right? Because I just wanted to make my life hell willingly, right mom? What about your bad choices, huh? What about you?"
Paula is angry. Obviously. Spencer is angry. Obviously. If this was a cartoon, both of their faces would be turning dark red. If she was a cartoon, this would be the moment that Spencer Carlin blows steam out her ears and lets all hell break loose.
"You want to know exactly why I left? It wasn't because everyone hated that I was gay. It wasn't because of the way you found out or all the harsh comments you made to me. I left because the night I was getting ready to leave I asked you if you loved me. What did you say when I asked you that?"
Paula just sits there. She's becoming the sat silent girl now.
"Come on, what did you say?"
She opens her mouth as if trying to catch some words but she doesn't. She takes a deep breath, and tries again.
"You said that you didn't have a gay daughter, right mom? You said that if you had a gay daughter, you didn't have a daughter at all."
Everyone in the diner is now fixated on this confrontation.
"I just… can't."
Spencer stands up to leave.
"Then I guess you don't have to."
The younger blonde stands up to leave. She passes Anne, and she reaches the hostess and the bus boy just to catch the last part of the hostess'.
"See, I told you she was above violently throwing drinks! You owe me a twenty."
It only took the blonde one short hour to adventure into something she knew she would dread. It only took a few short seconds for the blonde to know that all the hopes she had for this meeting to be destroyed, and it only took 8 small steps for the blonde to walk out the diner, and out of her mother's life, again.