Page 137 of Shamed
I know she hates that she can’t just get up and come to me, that she can’t reach out and pull me into a hug if she needs it—or knock me over the head when Ineed it.
Yet, true to her gentle and accepting nature, she never complains about it.
“I have never, and will never, see you anything other than a blessing.”
I smile with an exhale, that same crack sealing shut.
My eyes drop to the pink top Mom’s wearing, and I can’t help but think of Jayne’s pink tank top I found tangled in my sheets. It’s been tucked under my pillow ever since.
What is she doing right now, I wonder? Is the therapy helping her? Is she all alone again? Sad? Does she need me?
“You were right when you said I was trying to fix something I didn’t do,” I admit, returning my gaze to her face. “I was always trying to make up for being alive.”
Sorrow fills her expression, tears welling along her lower lid. “Oh, Mase. That breaks my poor heart.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you apologize. I just wish I had set you straight a long time ago.”
“I was too busy pretending I was fine.”
A sad smile crests on her face. “Busy helping others as always.”
I run my free hand through my too long hair, thinking how I need a haircut.
“It’s not that I don’t enjoy what I do.”
“Of course you do,” she says, her eyes still shiny, but now filled with pride. “You’ve been a caring soul your entire life. That didn’t just start when you were a teenager.”
As in, when I found out about my sperm donor.
At least I know not everything was about me trying to overcompensate. I’ll be able to tell that to Jayne when I see her again one day.
My lips quirk with a wry smile, realizing just how much I needed to have this conversation. And Jayne knew it.
The boulder in my throat seems to have shrunk, and even some of the chips on my shoulders were dusted off, making them feel lighter.
The image of Jayne on the bathroom floor flashes in my mind, but I quickly push it away.
“I was seeing someone,” I confess, watching as her eyes grow round with interest. “A woman.”
“You had a girlfriend? When?”
I rub at the back of my neck, feeling shitty for not telling her. I really should have before now.
“The end of last year. It wasn’t for long, but things moved quickly. We’re, um . . . not together right now while we sort some things out.”
Mom’s mouth opens as if saying a silentah. Then she watches me intently for a moment, reading everythingon my face. The sadness, happiness, and everything in between. “You love her?”
The corners of my mouth tug downward as I pick at some fluff on my pants. “Yeah. I do.” I just never got to tell her that.
A soft smile touches Mom’s lips. It’s what she’s wanted for me for a long time. But then the smile floats away, replaced by concern. “What happened?”
I huff a humorless laugh. Where do I even begin?
“A lot.”
“Well, how about we start with who this girl is. I would give you heck for not telling me, but you already look like you’re going through enough.”
