My mother sighs heavily.
Her elbows are resting on the tabletop and she's holding her head in her hands, her fingers locked in her hair.
"I can't believe this."
Frankly, I can't believe it either but for right now her disbelief seems to outweigh my own. I'm still waiting to wake up and find out all of this was nightmare. I'm waiting to open my eyes and realize I was only dreaming and that my life is as good as it was before Liss and I became close with Camille and I started dating Adrian.
I'm waiting...but it'll never happen.
This is too real to be a nightmare.
No matter how many times I pinch myself, hoping it'll stir me from whatever nightmare I'm having, I find that I end up only with a small bruise on my arm where I've pinched myself and that I'm still sitting across from my mother who can't seem to even really look at me.
Her eyes are glue to the table as she moves so that one hand is supporting her head while the other is stirring the hot chocolate I asked her to make the second I came into the house. I thought it might make me feel better or soften the blow of everything I just told her but it didn't. Nothing could soften such a horrible truth.
I wish I'd taken Dimitri up on his offer to sit by me while I told her. He'd know what to say or maybe he'd just give me one of those encouraging looks with his light brown eyes that seem to have all the power in the world behind them.
I'm waiting for her to say something, anything.
She hasn't spoken since she set the hot chocolate in front of me and asked me to explain what was going on.
I'm hoping Dimitri is right, that she's my mother and she'll stand by me like she has been no matter what. But I'm afraid that he's wrong, that this'll be too much for her to handle.
I realize that if I want to hear a response, any response, from her then I have to say something first even if I've already been the one to do all of the talking so far.
"Mom..."
She lifts her head and is staring out the window, holding her hand under her nose and over her mouth as if trying to stop herself from crying or from saying something. She probably doesn't know what to say. I wouldn't. She closes her eyes the same way I've done so many times today to keep any tears from falling.
No matter how many times I tried I still cried and now she's crying too, silently.
I slide my hand across the table toward her slowly. She holds her cool, pale, small hand over my own and clutches it tightly.
"I'm so sorry!"
Her apology catches me off guard. Before I can ask why she's apologizing, she continues.
"I should have known something was wrong, that the thing with Adrian would only get worse. I mean I knew something else was going on with you. I knew it the moment you came home and told me you were mugged, I knew you weren't telling me the truth...or at least not the whole truth whenever you came home with new bruises but I didn't say anything! I'm so sorry. I didn't protect my baby, I'm so sorry," she repeats.
She lets go of my hand and covers her face as she weeps.
I'm stunned into silence by her apology.
I never once blamed her for not saying anything even when it was clear something was wrong. I never thought of it as her problem. She has enough on her plate.
I don't know if I should get up to hug her or let her cry it out and wait until she calms down to talk. When her tears fade into quiet hiccups much like my tears do, I finally speak.
"Mom, this wasn't your fault." I feel like she's the one that should be giving me the 'it isn't your fault' speech but I know she needs to hear it more than I do right now. "I...I should have said something sooner."
"Why didn't you?" she whispers.
Honestly, right now with her staring at me as if it's so obvious that I should have told her, I don't know.
"Y-you had so much to worry about with bills and work and you were already fired for when I tried to report Adrian the first time...I know I should have said something, I shouldn't have let it all get so bad but..."
I didn't know what else to say.
I wondered how things would have been different if I told my mom everything from the start.
I cant imagine it would have been any better.
Her lips quivers for a moment and she's trembling before she whispers, "I'm a terrible mother. I let you down...I'm..."
I'm shaking my head. She's falling apart right in front of me when I need her most. When I'm the one that should be allowed to break down while she holds me and puts me back together. I just want her to tell me it'll be alright, even if neither of us really believes it, to hug me and kiss my forehead before telling me 'we'll figure something out'.
I hear Dimitri's advice in my head about giving her a little time and remembering that she's my mother and she loves me. He's right. I just need to give her a little time for all of this to sink in before she can help me. Before she can help me, I have to help her.
She's supported me my entire life.
I can't blame her for falling apart a little with everything else I've added to her plate. I feel guilty. She's supported me all these years and I only add to our troubles.
Before she only had countless bills and a possible college fund for me to worry about.
Now she has to think about affording a lawyer, setting up a doctors appointment for me, the possibility of court, the backlash of the town, photos of her naked daughter being sent around, her job, the bills...everything.
Now is my chance to support her a little while. I hold on to the thought that if I find a way to be strong for her, I'll learn to be strong for my self again and things will get back to normal.
It's the only hope I have to hold on to.
She looks exhausted and she's rubbing her temples the same way she does when she has one of her migraines.
"We don't have to keep talking about this right now," I tell her.
She locks her eyes on me as if searching my face for something. When she finds whatever she's looking for she nods slightly and pulls her hair back into a loose bun.
"Yeah, maybe it'll be good if we get some sleep."
She grasps my hands quickly and gives them a little squeeze before standing up and heading for the stairs.
This isn't how I imagine this going but it's better than how I worried it'd turn out. She just needs time. A night's sleep will make it a little better.
Before she disappears in her room for the night though, I have to hear one thing before I head to my own room and we put this day behind us and try to make it through the rest of the days ahead of us.
I have to hear her say it.
"We'll figure something out right?" I ask almost pleadingly.
I need to hear her say it.
It's what she always says.
"J-just...just tell me we'll figure something out."
She pauses, her foot on the first step of the staircase. For a second, my heart sinks at the thought that she might not turn around or answer me. When she does, I start to feel a little better until I see the hopelessness in her eyes and it sounds like she answering me more out of comfort than real belief.
"Yeah...we'll figure something out."
After a long warm shower and I nestle myself into my bed with my bad ankle comfortably propped up at the foot of my bed, I hear my mother's bedroom door open.
For what feels like the longest moment, I smile slightly to myself, thinking she's going to come in here and finally hold me and give me the kiss on the forehead and genuinely tell me 'we'll figure something out'. I hold on to that feeling as I listen to her shuffle down the hall and past my room.
When I listen to her on the stairs, I wonder if maybe she has a work shift to get to and just forgot to tell me about it. But our house is so small and silent right now that I can hear the opening of the fridge and a few seconds later a clink and pop, the same sounds from when she's grabbing and opening a beer.
I cant say I blame her.
If I 'd just found out the ordeal my daughter's been going through, I'd have a few drinks of my own.
Still, it makes me sad that she's having a beer instead of giving me the comfort I always expect from her. I curl up into a tighter ball on my bed and stare out the window.
The moons isn't out tonight and the darkness I see isn't making it any easier for me to think my happiest memory. All I see is darkness. It feels like these days, these terrible days-where the good moments like today and yesterday at the park with Dimitri are so far and few in occurrence-are only getting longer.
They feel like one long never ending nightmare.
I try to focus on those few good moments I've had and I try and think of Dimitri.
He's a strong guy who's been through his own fair share of troubles but he still has hope that there's always something better. He's strong enough to try and encourage and support other people with troubles. It's pretty amazing and I'm looking that I'm the receiving end of his kindness.
I remember that he wanted me to call him and let him now how things went.
I pull my cell phone out of my bag by my bed and I click on his contact name and type a message letting him know it didn't turn out as bad as I thought it would. I don't hit send though because it isn't true. Sure, my mother didn't turn her back on me but somehow it feels even worse that she's downstairs drinking a beer instead of up here with me. It feels worse that after telling her everything and that I need her, she falls apart and needs me to help her for a little while.
The clink and pop of another beer being opened stirs me from my thoughts. I don't send the message. I'm sure Dimitri will understand. Maybe he'll think my mother and I are talking things over long into the night like I'd wished we would.
I decided I'll just talk to him the next time I see him.
I look at the phone for a second longer and wonder if the photos will eventually reach Dimitri, if he'll somehow see them. I shake the thought away along with my worries that the photos will somehow turn him against me.
I tuck the phone back into my bag, roll over on my bed and try to fall asleep staring at the dark sky.
A/N: Just wanted to thank you guys for reviewing and reading the story. so far I know some of you guys don't like the 'weak and needy' Rose but things might just turn around for our favorite VA character.