Three days.
It took me three days to get up enough courage to walk up to my mother's front door. The first day, I only managed to drive by, my heart beating out of my chest. I almost left the city that day, sure that my idea as idiotic. The next two days I parked down the street from her house and watched for a while, but I never saw her.
Finally realizing that I was stalling, and that I had left everything behind for this opportunity, I resolved that today would be the day I went to her door and faced my demons.
The large rose colored stucco home loomed in front of me. The neighborhood was nice and the families that lived here were certainly well off. The yard was perfectly landscaped and they had a pool in the backyard.
I had been waiting in my truck for any sign of life, and finally around noon a sleek black car pulled into the garage. I waited for whoever had arrived home to get settled before I made my way out of the truck. My legs threatened to give out on me and I debated on whether I should bring my envelope of proof with me now or wait and see if it was needed. I decided to leave it, not wanting to push anything too far with this first meeting. My mouth was dry and my hands were shaking, but I was moving up the sidewalk, then the walkway, and all too soon I stood on her front steps. I heard the yapping of a small dog inside and knew I would have to make my presence known, otherwise someone would come to investigate what was causing it to bark.
With a deep breath I pressed my finger to the doorbell, and the dog became even more frenzied. I heard the approaching footsteps on the other side and desperately tried not to faint, or puke.
The door swung open and there she stood. A stunning brunette with perfectly styled hair looking like she just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Her smile was one I would never forget. She looked at me expectantly, as she reached down to pick up the small, pampered ball of fur. Her manicured hands soothed the yapping beast and I noticed the expensive rings adorning her slender fingers. Hands that used to knead dough with me. Hands that used to soothe me to sleep and wipe away my tears.
"Hi mom." I greeted her with a tight smile and small wave.
Her entire face contorted into one of panic as she recognized me. It was then that I noticed a striking young man in the hallway behind her. He looked towards the door and came up behind her. He belonged next to her, in his perfectly pressed khakis and polo shirt. Slipping an arm around her waist, he gave me a bright smile and leaned into my mother.
"Who is this Renee?" He asked kindly.
My mother was speechless, her eyes wild and her jaw slack as she stared at me.
I replied quietly, never taking my eyes off her. "I'm Renee's daughter, Isabella."
His expression turned dark instantly. "What kind of joke is this? Renee doesn't have any children. Get off our property immediately young lady!"
"I have the papers to prove it. Just ask your wife." I shot back at him, nodding at her.
He turned to look at her. "Renee?"
Her eyes flickered back and forth between me and him, and she seemed to finally shake off her stupor.
"Renee, what is going on?" He demanded.
And just like that, my mother slipped on a cool mask and laid one of her hands tenderly on his forearm. "I have no idea who she is, Phil. We both know I can't have children." She shook her head and kept her eyes trained on him, refusing to acknowledge me. The anger erupted out of me.
"Oh is that what you've told him? Was is that easy to forget all about your daughter that you left with your abusive ex-husband so you could live out your happily ever after? I have the papers in the car. My birth certificate, your marriage certificate, and the divorce papers, Mom."
Phil pushed my mother inside the house and closed the door, standing face to face with me on the porch. "I have no idea who you are or what you want, but if you are not off my property within the next five minutes, I will call the police."
I stared at him, my face burning red with fury and my mouth open in shock. My mother, the woman who gave me life, just denied that I existed. All the strength I had left washed out of me, and I felt the tears streaming down my face.
"Mom! Don't do this please. You're all I have left. I forgive you for leaving me, just talk to me. Please, mom. Please!" The sobs left my body as I threw myself at the door, banging on it with my fists and begging her to come back out. I felt his hands as they gripped my arms and forcibly removed me from his porch. He went back to the house and stood in front of the door, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. I had no other option than to leave.
Somehow I made it back to my hotel room in one piece. I threw myself onto the bed and let everything out. All the hurt and pain caused by the two people who were supposed to love me unconditionally coursed out of me in tears and sobs and screams and punches.
I shed tears for the girl who was forced to grow up too fast.
I sobbed for the girl who lost her mother, her only friend.
I screamed for the girl who lived a shell of a life with a man who destroyed her innocence.
I beat the pillows and mattress with my insignificant fists at the unfairness of it all.
When there were no more tears to cry, and the sobs no longer wracked my body, and my throat was hoarse from screaming, and my hands were tender and bruised; I slept.
~~**~~
Three days.
I watched the room lighten and darken as the sun rose and set. I heard the pounding on the door and a murky voice calling through the steel. I remained where I had fallen on the bed three days ago, unsure of my course now.
Then my door opened. I squinted at the bright light invading my prison and made out the vague outline of a woman.
"Isabella?"
My mother.
The door closed behind her and my eyes had to readjust to the darkness.
"You weren't answering your door, so the manager let me in." When I made no move to acknowledge her presence, she came closer to the bed. She wrung her hands and nervously chewed on her bottom lip, a habit I had picked as a child. Her hand shook as she tentatively reached out to move the hair from my face. I flinched away from her touch.
"You look awful. Are you sick?" The rage began to build inside me again, little bubbles, for now at least. I closed my eyes, incredulous at the nerve of this woman. "Do you need a doctor?"
"What do you want?" I forced myself to sit up in the bed and looked her straight in the eye. She looked away.
"I think I owe you an explanation." She let out a nervous chuckle. Very funny, mom. Let's make jokes while your daughter's world crumbles around her.
"You have to understand that I had no way to take you with me. There was no money, no home, not even a car. I couldn't take you with me to live on the streets. I thought that once I had a job and place to live, I could come back for you."
So she wanted to talk. Ok. I cocked an eyebrow at her, knowing she would understand my unspoken question, and waited.
"It took much longer than I thought to even find a job, considering I had no work history. Charlie knew what he was doing, keeping me cut off from everything. I had no friends, no family, and no way to make it on my own. I did some horrible things, and I'm glad you weren't there to see them."
Like what she had left me to witness was all that great.
Her wide brown eyes, my eyes, turned to me expectantly. When I didn't respond, she continued her tale.
"I met Phil and everything changed. I had a place to stay and didn't have to worry about a job. I only had to love him, and I did. He loves me. He worships the ground I walk on. He spoils me and I've never been happier." There was a small smile on her face as she thought of him.
"Phil never wanted children, and I told him I couldn't have kids. It is true, I had that taken care of a long time ago. I didn't want any more children with Charlie." The mask was back and she showed no emotion as she continued the story. She barely even looked at me. "Eventually, we wanted to get married, but I knew I needed to divorce Charlie first. He refused to grant the divorce and I was desperate. Finally, he agreed that he would sign the papers as long as I gave up my rights to you. In the end, we both got what we wanted. I was free to marry Phil, and Charlie had you."
It was hard to find my voice, and when I did it was trembling. "You didn't want me?" I asked her, barely above a whisper.
Her eyes widened in shock. "Of course I did, but there was really no way around it. This way was best for everyone." The way she spoke about me sent chills down my spine. It was like I was merely a possession, not a person, a child.
I snorted. "Best for you maybe. How was it ever best for me?"
"Oh please, Isabella, don't act like a spoiled brat. You had everything you needed. Charlie took good care of you."
The rage boiled over. "Excuse me? How would you even know how I was, since you never once called or came to visit?S ince when is starving, whipping and locking a child in a closet 'good care'?"
She gasped. "You really have no idea how good you had it. You should be thankful." She admonished me and I'd had enough.
I rose as calmly as I could from the bed, willing my legs to hold me up, and crossed to the door. "Get out." I spat through gritted teeth.
"Excuse me?" She huffed.
"I said get out of my room. You left me to be abused and neglected by my father. You never came back or even tried to help me. Now he's dead and you were all I had. I was hoping that you could step up and be a mother, but I was sorely mistaken. You could never be a mother. The only person you care about is yourself. Now get out!" I was surprised at how well I was managing to keep it together. My entire body was trembling and I knew it wouldn't be long before I broke down, but I had to stay strong until she was out of my room.
"You're the one who came to find me Isabella. One more thing and then I'll leave. You are to stay away from me and Phil. He is not going to find out about you. Phil is all I have and I refuse to lose him. I came here to give you the explanation I thought you wanted. Charlie did his job and raised you. Now you are free to go and live your life however you want to. For the first time in my life, I am happy, and I will not jeopardize that for anything."
My hand was twitching with the urge to slap her. I opened the door and refused to say another word. After another huff, she finally left the room and I slammed the door behind her. Making sure the door was locked, I turned back to my empty hotel room.
That woman was not my mother.
My mother died when I was twelve.
I took a deep breath and headed to the bathroom for a shower. It was quite refreshing under the circumstances. It was time for a new plan. There was no use in dwelling on the past. There was nothing I could do to change it. Now it was time to live my life and become my own person.
I had one more day left at the hotel and then I would be on my way. The California beaches called to me, so I decided I would head back up that way. It was the one place he never wanted to move to, because there was too much sin in California. There was just something about it that seemed so freeing. I'd find a job and stay in a hotel until I could find a more permanent place to live. Eventually, I would finish high school and go to college. Maybe I would find my own happily ever after.
Pulling out my map of California, I perused the coastline for some place that sounded good. Santa Cruz caught my eye. I was tired of small towns. In bigger cities, I could lose myself among the masses. That's where I would go.
Tomorrow, there was one thing left to do, and then I would leave.
~~**~~
After twenty minutes in the library and forty-five minutes at a copy shop, I had a manila envelope addressed to a Mr. Phil Dwyer. It would go to his personal PO Box, so I knew she wouldn't intercept it.
I was someone. She brought me into this world, and I would not allow her to pretend that I never existed.
He would see that I was no crazy runaway teenager trying to scam my way into someone's life. I was not the monster trying to tear apart their happy marriage. She was the monster for abandoning and denying her own child.
A brief flicker of regret consumed me after I dropped the envelope into the mailbox, but I quickly dismissed it. He deserved to know. I deserved to exist.
I was back in my truck, heading northwest, and ready to face a new life. This was my beginning.