(Mis)Trust

  Knocking on the door there's a long pause which makes me nervous until I hear her high voice yell 'comin' through the door. When it's thrown open, her shock turns to a huge smile followed by a sharp look.

  "What in the bloody hell happ'ened to yer face?" She asks opening the screen door widely.

  "Car accident," I lie quickly.

  Turning me this way and that so she can stare she asks, "Were ye no wearin' a seatbelt then?"

  "No. Ah, Selena and I had just sat in the car when we were hit from behind, so I hit my face on the dashboard." Shiiiiit. I hate lying in general, but with my mother it's nearly impossible. She has a freaky sixth sense for lying she picked up when my father was cheating on her.

  "Well, ye lok like a dog's arse," she mumbles making me laugh. "Did ye no think ta tell me?"

  "It's no big deal, just a fender bender. My face took the worst of it."

  "Well, come in then. Are ye stayin' or letting the air oot?"

  "I'm staying. Would you mind if I spend the night?"

  "Aye, of course. I'm fetchin' to hae a date at 8 on the time, but I'll be home after the cinema. Would ye like to come wee me and Mary?"

  Feeling a little disappointed she won't cancel going to the movies for me, I smile through it. "No, I'm good. I'll just watch TV til you come back. When are you leaving?"

  "Quarter past 7. Come in wee ye," she tugs me toward the kitchen. "Ye dunna hae a bag?"

  "No. This was a last minute visit." Flinching, I realize I screwed up instantly. I don't visit my mother except on specific holidays, and I've never come without Tyler.

  "Ah, so you and the fella hae ended it, no?" Blushing, I look down quickly at the table before she continues. "What did the dirty, rotten scoundrel do?"

  "Scoundrel?" I laugh. "Mum, you've been here for twenty five years. Don't you think it's time to drop the old school Scottish vocabulary?" I grin at her quick outrage.

  "I'll hae you know, its people here who canna speak. We from the ol’ coun’try started yer language, but it was YOU folk who slauuuughtered it," she shakes her head with a laugh turning for the kettle on the stove.

  Remembering Alec, I laugh with her. Alec used to tease her mercilessly about her accent and words from 'the old country'. Alec would get her so worked up she was barely coherent yelling at him, smacking his arse with a spoon while he laughed and ran around the kitchen taunting her.

  Alec would tease her until she would end up yelling in a weird Scottish kind of unintelligible gibberish with barely understood words and sentences as I watched them both laughing my ass off when she chased him through the house with her spoon. It was usually after 5 minutes of her completely losing her shit that Alec would finally grab me and throw me at her so he could run upstairs to his locked bedroom for safety.

  And that's when she'd yell with her spoon raised up high to the gods, "That wee bastard will be the death o’ me," with a smile.

  And he was the death of her, I realize.

  At least in part.

  Finding myself crying at the table, my mum sits down in the chair beside me. "Drink yer cuppa," is all she says because that's all there is with her. My mum thinks anything can be fixed with a cup of tea.

  "You know I hate tea," I grin wiping my eyes.

  "Well, that's half yer problem, no?"

  "I guess."

  Patting my hand she prompts me. "Tell me, love."

  "I miss Alec," I say accidentally which effectively ends our first night together since Christmas.

  "Aye." Rising from her chair, my mum is out of the kitchen before I even finish my sentence or thought.

  Exhaling deeply I realize talking about Alec is out, cheating is out, the attack- forget it. So that leaves… why the hell did I come here?

  Taking a little sip of tea, I spit it back in the cup without getting caught and cringe. I hate tea, but I always try to like it because 'There's no a good Scottish lass without tea in her blood,' my mum always says.

  Sitting in my mum's old fashioned kitchen of blue wallpaper with big white roosters I almost laugh at how ugly it is. I mean, I guess rooster wallpaper was in style once upon a time, for like a week. But really? After this many years, she hasn't changed a damn thing in this house. Alec's pictures are exactly where they were beside mine on the mantel, his room is the same as when he left it, and I bet if I checked, my father's leftover clothing would still be in his half of their old closet.

  She's in an absolute time warp, and I don't find it comforting like some people would. I find it horribly stifling. Almost angrily, I want to rip down the ugly blue valances in the kitchen windows, and I want to scrape off the goddamn rooster wallpaper I've always hated.

  God, I don't know what I thought I'd find here, but I haven't found it. My mum is exactly the same, and this house is exactly the same. It’s just me who isn't the same anymore.

  Everything here is cautious, unchanging, and inflexible.

  "There's bread from the Scots shop in the fridge if yer hung'ry," she says from the doorway.

  Dressed impeccably, my mum may not change her home decor or even her perfect blonde blunt hairstyle, but her clothing has always been very modern and elegant. She's actually a very attractive woman at 46 when I look at her objectively.

  "Mum? Can we redecorate your kitchen tomorrow?" Looking around, I see her eyes widen as a slight panic sets in. She's never changed anything for them. "They're not coming back," I whisper staring at her beautiful green eyes as she nods slowly.

  Breathing deeply, my mum stares at me like she's thinking, but it isn't until she tears up a little that I realize she's never thought about her kitchen before. "I'm well a'ware thur no com'in back, Saige."

  "So can we? I'll pay if you want?"

  "Dunna be stuuu'pid," she growls. "I can pay for some paint. I've always hated bloody cocks any’way," she says so seriously I pause for one second before I burst out laughing.

  Cocks? Oh my god! I'm dying, and as she blushes deeply I see the exact moment she realizes what she just said.

  "Per'vert," she shakes her head laughing at me.

  Trying to stop my giggles, I look at the clock and tell her to get going.

  "Ye know... I always want'ed a modern black and white kitchen. Do ye think ye canna pull that off this week'end?"

  "Sure, I can!" I jump up excited. Looking around at all the white cupboards, I don't think it'll be that hard once all the cocks are gone, I start giggling again. Seriously? So not a word I ever thought I'd hear my mum say.

  "I'm ootta here. I'll be back by half past 10 I'm sure."

  "Have fun," I giggle one last time as she grins and kisses the top of my head before pulling my hair.

  "Yer gonna be bald by fort'y if ye dunna stop with these tails, Saige," she says walking out of the kitchen like she has since I was a little girl.

  Looking around the hideous kitchen of my childhood, I lean to the left of the table and pick at a seam with my nails. Pulling off a small piece of wallpaper starts a manic ripping of anything I can reach, and within minutes I have sections and pieces all over the table and floor. Standing on the chairs, I've never been so happy to throw cocks to the floor as I am right now. Laughing again at my mum's terminology, I rip off my hoodie and get serious.

  2 hours later, I have the whole full wall and all the wallpaper above the counters removed. The brown wallpaper backing is still there, but I'll buy a steamer tomorrow to get it off as well. Thinking of a black and white kitchen, I'm not sure what to do about the flecked greenish blue countertop, but I'm sure Lowe's can help with that as well.

  Satisfied that I can't get any more wallpaper off, I tidy the counters, table and floor of the bits of wallpaper and settle in with a gross cup of instant coffee- the only kind my mum has in her house for us heathens. And after toasting some Scottish soda bread which is delicious in my empty stomach, I'm ready for bed.

  Wandering around my mum's sterile, ugly home, I realize how little I've actually thought of Tyler today. I do still, but not as much,
and somehow I almost find that sad in its own way.

  I'm a little more comfortable, or maybe ready to let our past go. It still hurts like a bitch realizing the one person you loved beyond all others is gone. And it's sad to say goodbye to the entire life you had planned, but I think I'm almost ready to face it now.

  The attack right after our breakup gave me the reason to focus on something else. The attack also allowed me to suffer physically what I was emotionally suffering both by Tyler and his actions and by someone else that night. Now that I've had a little time though, I think I need to prioritize myself and what I want for me from now on since things have changed for me so drastically and completely.

  Tyler doesn't have to change anything anymore to be with me. He's kept our apartment, he's already enrolled in our current school for next year, and he has the woman he wants to be with.

  So now I have to change my plans, and I'll do it alone. I'll finish law school away from my current life in a different school in a different city away from my current self and my old boyfriend and my old friends. I'll set out on a new course that I make on my own. It's what I did the first time I went away to school anyway, so I'll just do it again.

  When I left for University 4 years ago I hadn't planned on meeting Tyler my first week there, and I hadn't planned on being a couple for the next 4 years of my life. At the time I started school I was 18, single, and young. I was also scared but determined.

  So I'll do it again. Not as young, just as determined, and single once more.

  After this last escapist weekend, I'll go back to work for the money I desperately need, and I'll go back to Selena's for 2 more weeks. I'll move all my shit out of Tyler's place next weekend for a storage locker, and I'll rent the little bachelor for a few months until I leave for good.

  And I know it's for good this time. I'll always visit Mike, and Selena and Griffin, but Midland isn't my home any more than Cambridge will be. But maybe I'll make it become my new start.

  Maybe Boston can be my new home for good, and my fresh start forever.

  CHAPTER 13

  After a hilarious drive to Lowe's, followed by Home Depot, I've learned new and interesting ways to swear at passing motorists using everyday words in unimaginable ways. My mum is hands down a horrible driver, but according to her it's every other motorist on the road. Oh, and apparently I'm old enough to hear her swear now, which is funny, and a little scary actually. Honestly, she's got the most messed up potty mouth I've ever heard in my life.

  Returning to her home, she's so excited about her new kitchen, I feel it with her. Someone from Home Depot should be by this afternoon after 3 to measure and order the new sleek black countertops she splurged on, and in the meantime she and I are steaming the hell out of the walls before painting the walls and cupboards bright white hopefully first thing tomorrow morning.

  After Home Depot we stopped at a kitchen outfitters and she bought new canisters, placemats, dish towels, curtains, and bowls in bright red to have as an accent color to her new black and white kitchen. She was lucky her fridge, stove and floors were already white because I have a feeling she would've bought new appliances too.

  As it is my idea to rip down the hideous rooster wallpaper has cost her thousands, but she doesn't seem unhappy about it at all.

  "This is so ex'citin'," she says for the hundredth time when we pull into her driveway. I can't wait to see what her new kitchen will look like, especially in 3 weeks when the countertops are installed. I've even promised to come back sooner than later so I can see it all completed.

  Grabbing the bags of supplies and stuff, we enter her house and walk straight to the kitchen. Running to change, my mum is almost childlike with her excitement which is awesome to see- especially when I follow her jumping every second step up the stairs to change into the new clothes I had to buy for myself this weekend.

  Thinking about her life, I spent years watching her quiet insanity, and previously her drunken hostility, so this fun version of her is amazing.

  *****

  "Would ye like ta talk, wee Saige?" My mum suddenly asks from the doorway. Pausing with a bag in my hand, I feel strange, and sad, and just unsure of everything at the moment. I don't know if she means talk talk, or just casual talk, because my mum rarely does emotional or heavy conversations if she can help it.

  "What did the fella do?"

  Exhaling as I turn, I say the unimaginable to my mother. "He cheated on me in my own home, and broke my heart."

  "Aye. Go on then."

  "That's it. He shocked the hell out of me, and I've been having a hard time dealing with it," I say without emotion so she doesn't get weird with me, or maybe on me. I don't know with her where she'll go from one minute to the next discussing cheating.

  "Can I give ye a wee bit of advice?" Nodding, I mumble sure but brace myself for the coming storm. "Sit down," she drags her own chair from beneath the table as I place the bag on the counter to sit across from her. "Are ye lis'nin'?"

  "Yes."

  "Nev'er ev'er give yer heart to a man, Saige. He won't apprec’iate it, and he won't value it. No man does. Its thur nat'ure I think. They may love ye but they dunna know what to do wee a heart that’s been giv'in to them. So they break it."

  "What?" I ask because that's the extent of my vocabulary all of a sudden.

  "I've loved three men in me life. My father drank him'self deed, yer father left, and Alec did what he did. Not one of them loved me back, and not one of them didna break the heart I gave 'em. So let this be a less'en to ye."

  "But- what?" Shaking my head I try to find something to say, but really I have no argument because they did the same thing to me. My father left, Alec did what he did, and Tyler cheated then left me. "But aren't you lonely?" I question desperately.

  "No. Why would I be? I go oot if I want ta. I hae friends I like. If I fancy a date I take one. And if I wanna get wee someone, I do. I'm not lonely and I get to keep the litt'le piece 'o my heart I hae left."

  "But I want to have children one day," I gasp kind of freaked out.

  "Well, ye no need a man for tha. There's ways to avoid tha altogether now."

  "I know but-"

  Cutting me off she says what I didn't want to ever hear. "That fella of yers had lust in his eyes, Saige. I saw his lust for ye, so I knew it would be for someone else as well. Ye canna have lust with someone that lasts for'ever. It just dunna happen. I know," she shakes her own head before smiling. "But yer a good lok'in lass, so ye can find some sex if ye want ta but ye dunna have to give anyone else yer heart. Why bother?"

  "I don't know… because it’s natural to want to be loved?"

  "Says who? What has love ev'er given ye back, Saige?"

  "Ummm..." Well, this is bizarre. And awful.

  Love has given me nothing back. But I feel like I'm supposed to protest what she's saying, or at least try to protest. Love should be important somehow though if I'm really honest, I'm leaning more toward what she's saying.

  Holy shit, what a messed up conversation.

  Desperately thinking as she waits patiently, I throw out the ridiculous. "I just met a man who seems like kind of a good guy, at least from what I've seen so far. Oh! And he's Scottish," I add hoping she'll say something positive now.

  "Ah, so he'll be good in bed but he'll eventually drink him'self deed or leave ye for a diff'rent lass. He'll no love ye enough to be sober, or he'll no love ye enough to be kind and true to ye. That's the Scotsmen I know."

  "But daddy wasn't Scottish!"

  "Aye. And he was nev'er good in the sack. He's not who I was ref'errin to, though it applies ta him as well."

  Bursting into tears, I almost laugh too. Fuck, my mum's a trip. And I really didn't need that information about my father's bedroom skills.

  "Well, shit mum... You're like the worst pep-talker ever," I laugh cry a little more. "Why can't you be all supportive and shit?"

  "I am support'in ye. Go to school. Be a lawyer. Work yer arse off like ye always have
. Just dunna love, and ye should be good," she pats my hand like she's said the right words suddenly.

  Even smiling at me, my mum rises from the table and grabs the bag of red ceramic bowls from the floor to place on the table. "Now, how do we get this crap off the walls?" She asks lifting the wallpaper steamer and water bottle in the air.

  And that's it for soul-defining pep-talks apparently. My mum starts moving around, lifting and shuffling until I stand to help her. I don't know what to say, and though I really do think she's wrong about love, there's a part of me that thinks she's really right as well.

  *****

  Sitting down to eat my mum's delicious Scottish steak pie, I’m done. Looking around the kitchen I'm excited again by all the gleaming white and red everywhere. Admittedly, it doesn't look that great with the ugly countertops, but I know it’ll look awesome in a couple weeks.

  For being 46, my mum's in really good shape having done just as much work as I did while cooking and baking and singing as well. She stayed up scraping walls as long as I did last night, and she was up before me this morning preparing the paint cans and drop cloths.

  It's actually been kind of fun with her, and I definitely like my sober mum much more than the old angry drunk one. She even seems much more relaxed than she used to be before my father left her.

  Other than torturing me with her old Scottish crooners all bloody day, we got along well, laughed often, and planned another visit in 3 weeks. Christ, she even made my favorite steak pie in the middle of painting the walls and cupboards.

  *****

  During dinner when there's a knock on the door, she swears an interesting twist on frogs and Scottish sheep I've never heard before as she rises for the door. Laughing at her she grins and pulls my ponytail as she passes mumbling something about balding again.