Jane sat on the edge of the bed, after waking from a horrible dream. She sipped the glass of water her mother had forced on her, and even accepted some hair stroking she would never normally allow. Jane gulped down the last of the water and tried to breathe more slowly. Her heartbeat had stopped pounding out of her chest. She reached up with two fingers and felt her pulse; it was normal.
"You're welcome", said Angela, with a face like the Cheshire cat's. Jane could tell how happy it made her mother to baby her, and she resented it. She didn't know why. It felt wrong somehow, like she was overcompensating, but for what? Jane couldn't think of anything her mom had really done wrong.
Sure, Jane had always liked her dad more, but that was because he was more fun to be around. He didn't go on about things she didn't care about, and he taught her cool stuff like how to fish and hunt and build things. Her mom just sort of fussed all the time. Jane could remember the first time her dad took them for a weekend to his "spot".
She and her brothers drove for hours to the lake, following her dad's instructions through dirt roads and farm houses in New England. It was one of her best memories. Frankie had been old enough to have adventures with, but still runtier and easy to be beat at things. Tommy had been an overgrown churlish boy with awkward pubescent features coming through in ways he tried desperately to control.
Jane realized she was lost in thought again. Her mom was tapping her shoulder, standing above her. "Get some sleep, c'mon", she said, and settled back onto the bed. Jane sighed and tucked the covers back over herself and her mother. How long was she going to have to sleep in this bed with this woman? She rolled her eyes and let them rest on the ceiling, flashes of her childhood memories still dancing across the blankness above her.
The light switch wasn't working. Maura flicked it once, twice, three times. She stomped her foot a little, and then, surprised at her own reaction, she counted to ten. Maura had been trying that little trick a lot lately. She'd read that it was a simple effect you could create from multiple different mind exercises, but this one was the first she'd decided to try. After all, years of yoga didn't seem to help with this burning feeling she felt all the time now.
The light was obviously out. Maura inched into the room, her hand dragging along the wall to find the other light switch. She'd memorized these light switches when she had first moved in, but somehow had forgotten them in the past week or two. Maura's index finger caught on a protrusion in the wall, and she turned on the kitchen lights with a sigh of relief.
It looked so empty. Had it been any other time, Angela would have been making herself busy in the kitchen to greet Maura and welcome her home. Jane would probably have been bringing in the bags that had grown so heavy in Maura's arms now.
The surfaces were cleaner now, were shiny and bare. Maura had rehired her old cleaning lady before she left, but she had somehow not expected to come home to such an empty house. Angela had never done anything to her, but Maura had found it hard to look her in the eye when she felt so angry at Jane. Angela had sensed that, and had moved out before Maura could say a word.
The burning anger still hadn't gone away. It had come for the first time when she had seen Jane's face after the shot was fired, but it never left. When she looked in the mirror now, Maura saw something literally burning inside of her eyes, and she wondered if other people could see it.
Except she'd gone away as soon as she could, so how would anyone have seen it? Well, Maura supposed what's-his-name had seen it (how could she really have forgotten the name of a man she spent three days with?), if anyone had. Maura couldn't remember him ever seeming afraid of her, and she felt like if anyone did see what she saw when she looked in the mirror now, they would be. She felt like a monster.
The guilt was almost as bad as the rush of anger. The anger was powerful, Maura had found ways to use it to her benefit by now. She spoke more forcefully when the valet tried to charge her extra money to get her car because she hadn't tipped him as much as he'd liked the night before. When Jane had called, she'd used that anger not to answer.
Maura found herself looking at her phone. Jane's number was finally just blocked, it went straight to voicemail if she called, which she hadn't in a while. Maura felt herself grow sad at this thought, and checked herself on it. It was not acceptable to feel bad about that when she had made that decision for her own good. Jane was respecting boundaries she had set, and Maura should reinforce them. She hung her head and sighed, her shoulders sagged, and for a second, Maura let herself miss Jane.
Although Maura was back, she hadn't wanted everyone to know immediately. Unfortunately, she had a severe lack of food in the house that she had only just noticed. Her father was not well, but he was alive still. If he was really her father, in any true sense of the word, Maura reminded herself.
She had put herself through a lot of self-education once she was told that she was adopted. She'd studied it religiously, if she were to be honest with herself. Everything she read said that a parent is a person who raised you. Who raised her? She had nannies and then teachers and then she was by herself. Maura couldn't really say that any one person had raised her, really, and she supposed that is why this felt different to her.
Maybe it was just something that happens sometimes. Jane would have told her to stop worrying about it so much and to grab a beer, settle down with her and watch something on television. Maura's stomach grumbled. She needed more sustenance than beer could provide. Her hunger drove her out of the house, against her wishes.
Which is how Maura ended up face to face with Angela at the grocery store. Angela looked a little startled, herself. In fact, when Maura looked closely at her, Angela seemed pretty upset.