A Mother’s Love

It had been ten years, but I’d never forget the woman who gave me life, and not much else. Cheri’s almond eyes scanned the dining room before settling on me. A smile brought an angelic lightness to her dark features. My stomach coiled tighter than the cloth napkin I twisted in my lap.

Jackie’s plump hand rested on my knee. “Trina, relax.”

I nodded, but as soon as she lifted her hand to wave down Cheri, I torqued the napkin until my fingers burned.

Cheri rushed around tables and slipped into a chair across from me. “That traffic is beastly.”

I buried my face in the menu, hoping it would save me from the awkward ‘how’s school’ conversation starter.

Jackie looked at me, then to Cheri. They were communicating in that silent way that adults think teenagers don’t catch. Cheri’s wide-eyed expression suggested she had no clue what to say. Jackie urged her with a severe stare and jerked her head toward me in a ‘talk to her’ motion.

“You look lovely, Katrina.”

I dropped the menu. “Thanks.”

Jackie and I had been coming to the Red Kitchen for as long as I could remember. The comforting warmth of Thai pepper and galangal root eased me into a life as an abandoned child. Annoyance flashed through me now that Cheri sat, browsing a menu, at our table.

Jackie tapped her fingers in front of Cheri. “I hope you don’t mind. We ordered already.”

“Oh, lovely.” She set the menu at the table’s edge. “So Katrina — ”

“Trina.” I shifted in my seat. My mother’s eyes darted to Jackie and back to me. “Oh, I’m sorry. Trina. How’s school?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Fine.”

“She’s getting all A’s, and she just made varsity soccer.” Jackie’s round cheeks pressed high with a smile that showed brighter than the neon “Open” sign.

“Well, that’s lovely.”

If Cheri said “lovely” one more time I was going to flip the table on her perfectly pressed business suit. Two servers drifted from the kitchen with a steaming pile of Pad Thai, Larb, and Tom Kha soup. The tangy smell of kaffir lime wafted from the dishes and eased my agitation.

Jackie plated pad thai for Cheri. “This one is Trina’s favorite.” I drowned out their conversation by shoveling noodles into my mouth and almost sighing at the relief of savory flavors dancing on my tongue.

“So I was thinking Trina could come stay with me for a bit?”

A stringy carrot lodged in my throat. Jackie thumped my back until it came up. Wiping my lips with the napkin, I unleashed a full glare on Cheri. “No, thank you.” Though my voice was weak from choking, the intention of never staying with her was strong.

Jackie leaned in close enough that I could smell her floral perfume. “You should hear her out.”

Her support for Cheri stung. “Why?”

“She’s your mother.”

I weighted that word, “mother”. Jackie cleansed my scrapes. Jackie taught me about my period, and she wiped my tears when Tyler broke up with me. Cheri missed it all. By choice.

I shook my head. “No.” Looking directly across the table at the woman who left me without an explanation, I cast my last barb. “You’re more of a mother than she’ll ever be.”

Jackie gasped.

My mother studied her soup like it might hold the answers to reestablishing a relationship with an estranged daughter. My chair screamed against the painted cement floor, and I walked out the restaurant to wait on the curb.

The door swooshed open behind me. Without turning, I voiced my warning to the cosmos. “I’m not going back in.”

“Jackie didn’t think you would.” I faced all five foot six of my mother. “There are some things you need to understand.” Folding my arms over my chest, I waited for her to explain. She exhaled. “I love you, Trina.” I rolled my eyes and turned away, but she caught my attention with a feather light touch on my forearm. Her eyes pleaded. “I know you don’t believe it.”

I looked beyond her, avoiding any form of contact that would cause pity. She left me.

She pursed her candy apple red lips. “One day, when you were four, your babysitter got high on a pot brownie. She fell asleep without putting the leftovers away, and you ate some. By the time I got off work, you were barely breathing. I couldn’t wake you up. So I rushed you to the hospital and held your tiny hand in the ICU while you took shallow breaths. The machine monitoring you would wail like a siren if you stopped breathing. I was so, so scared for you. You deserved a better life. So I called Jackie because she could give you that life. Turns out, she did an incredible job.”

Everything was spinning, I leaned against the brick wall of the restaurant for support. I blinked my eyes, trying to absorb the info dumped at my feet. “Why didn’t Jackie tell me?”

My mom sniffed and wiped her nose on the blazer sleeve. “She didn’t even know the full story.”

“Why would she take me in?”

She shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.” She leaned a single shoulder on the wall next to me. “I know you have a great life. I’m just hoping there’s a little room for me.”

I stared at my Converse high tops.

“Jackie said you aren’t one for rushing decisions. I admire that. She has my number, when you’re ready to talk. I’m heading out. Maybe I’ll hear from you soon.” She pulled keys from her tan handbag.

I grasped at my anger, but with the fading scuffle of Cheri’s boots on the asphalt, it slipped away. Not only had she given me life, but she also gave me Jackie. And as usual, Jackie was right. “Cheri!” She turned to face me. “Maybe we can meet again next week?”

Her solemn face transformed with her smile. “I’d love to.”