Chapter 18 - Learning to Be Their Mother
I sat with Mom at a table in the recreation center and showed her the sections she needed: work hours, household income, emergency contacts. I did not fill them in for her. When she didn't know an answer, she called the office herself.
A staff member explained the summer waiting list and a school-year program with reduced fees. Nothing happened instantly. Mom asked about a payment plan and the possibility of switching to an earlier shift at the warehouse.
Later she met with our apartment manager. The overdue rent would take months to address, and keeping the same apartment might not be possible. She arranged installments and began looking at a smaller place nearer the girls' school. For once, I learned about the plan because she told me, not because a deadline had been placed in my hands.
One afternoon she came to Simone's porch without shopping bags or demands.
"I used your password," she said. "I sent that withdrawal. I also signed you up for work you didn't agree to do. I was wrong."
I watched her face. She didn't add but you made me desperate. She didn't tell me how much she'd sacrificed.
"Why couldn't you just ask for help?" I said.
"Because I was ashamed. And because asking might have gotten me an answer I didn't like."
"You made me feel like loving the girls was a debt I could never finish paying."
Tears slid down her cheeks. "I know. I'm sorry."
I didn't hug her. Not that day. I did tell her I'd visit when I wanted to, and that if she tried to use the girls to control me again, I'd step back.
May you like
She nodded. Then she asked whether Cleo could come over Saturday to help me pack.
I said yes, and the answer felt like my own.
