“Why do I get the feeling you’re about to bolt?”
I took a few seconds to answer. Letting out a breath, I folded another shirt and stuffed it into my duffel bag.
“Why would you think that?” I pretended I wasn’t following her train of thought.
“Don’t answer a question with another question,” she shot back.
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“Then just admit I’m right.”
I huffed. No way was I going to admit that. I had to stay strong because it wouldn’t take much to make me back out, and I desperately needed everything this opportunity had to offer.
“Alicia, I need you to let me pack, okay?” I tossed another piece of clothing into the bag with less care than I meant to. “I’m not in the mood for games right now.”
She raised both hands in a gesture of peace.
“Got it,” she relented. “But I’m still saying it—I know you’re scared, even if you don’t want to say it out loud.”
“Help me find my hair kit,” I said, ignoring her. “If I don’t find it, my hair’s gonna be a mess, and the last thing I need on my first day is getting chewed out for something so basic.”
“When’s the last time you saw it?”
She got up from her spot on the bed and started rummaging through my stuff.
“About a year ago, after my last deployment,” I told her. “I made sure to leave it with the duffel bag, but when I pulled it out, it wasn’t there.”
“Then it should be there, Gala.”
“Yeah, it should, but it’s like it vanished into thin air.”
I zipped up my bag and set it aside.
“You’re gonna have to buy everything new.”
“I can’t. The money I’ve got is already spoken for.”
I left the room to double-check the closet where I kept the duffel bag. Alicia’s footsteps followed close behind.
“What do you mean?”
“My mom needs it,” I explained vaguely. “I’m taking it to her this afternoon.”
Alicia’s humorless laugh echoed behind me as I opened the closet door. In two quick steps, she was beside me, slamming the door shut and forcing me to look at her instantly.
“Your mom?” she repeated, making sure she’d heard right. I nodded. “Your mom, who’s asked for money for rehab at least fifty times, only to blow it all on booze?”
“She promised this time she’d do it.”
Alicia’s face turned red with anger, and I could tell she was choosing her words carefully to avoid hurting me.
“She’s told you the same thing a million times, Gala.”
“I feel like this time’s gonna be different,” I tried to convey my confidence, but for her, it wasn’t the same. We weren’t talking about her mom. “I told her about my new job, and she’s excited.”
“She gets excited about every job you take because she knows she’s gonna get cash out of it.”
“I told her she won’t get another dime from me if she doesn’t get better this time,” I said, stepping away from the closet to sit on a stool. Thinking about my mom always left me exhausted. “She promised she’d turn things around.”
Alicia sat across from me, taking my hands in hers. I looked at her, trying to signal that I didn’t need a lecture, but it was clear I was getting one anyway.
“Gala, this new job is gonna demand a lot from you, and you can’t let your mom take whatever’s left,” she started. “You’ve been working since you were twelve to fund her habit, and even at twenty-five, you still think she’ll change. She’s been a lost cause for a long time, and the only thing motivating her now is the stack of zeros in your monthly paycheck that’ll end up in her pocket to pay for every bottle she downs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”
“She’s my mom, Alicia. I can’t just leave her to fend for herself,” I replied, unyielding.
Alicia studied me for a few seconds. When it came to my mom, I turned to stone—nothing could get through. I hated myself in these moments as much as Alicia hated that I couldn’t just cut ties with my mom once and for all. But I wasn’t like her; I couldn’t walk away from the woman who gave me life so easily.
“Just don’t give her everything you’ve got,” she pleaded.
“I’ve got two grand. Half is for her, and half is for this month’s rent.”
“I’ll cover the rent this month, no problem.”
“Absolutely not,” I shook my head repeatedly. “I’m not letting you do that. It’s completely irresponsible of me to let you pay rent for a place we both live in.”
“I can afford it, and covering one month isn’t gonna bankrupt me.”
If Alicia handled the rent this month, I could easily buy what I needed for my hair and still have some left over. I’d give it to my mom before I left, and I wouldn’t feel so guilty. Plus, she’d get her money, and I wouldn’t be stressing over how she’d scrape together cash for her booze.
“Fine, deal, but I’m covering the next two months of rent,” I declared.
“I’m cool with that too,” she shrugged with a small, satisfied smile. “Now let’s stop looking for that kit and just go buy what you need.”
We got up, and Alicia grabbed the keys to her old Beetle. She drove a couple of minutes before pulling into a small store where I picked up some hair ties and the styling tool for the regulation bun women in the military had to wear. With that sorted, I asked Alicia to take me to my mom’s rundown apartment complex so I could say goodbye and drop off the money. When she parked, I sat in the car for a few seconds, trying to muster up some courage.
“You could just leave it with the doorman.”
She pointed at Johnny in his tiny, beat-up booth. I let out a genuine laugh for the first time that day, watching the old concierge with his face lit up by the glow of the TV screen. He’d know every play of whatever game he was watching but wouldn’t have a clue who was coming or going.
“Yeah, your laugh says it all.”
Alicia caught her mistake.
“Johnny’s only there for the free cable and to justify his paycheck as a concierge. If I leave my money with him, it won’t end up in a much different place than where my mom would take it.”
“At least you can admit the reality.”
I got out of the car, hearing her talk as I shut the door and leaned through the open window.
“I’m an optimist, not an idiot.”
I gave the roof of the car a light tap and walked through the entrance. I didn’t even bother with the elevator—if it hadn’t worked in ten years, it sure as hell wasn’t gonna work today. Taking the stairs two at a time, I made it to the third floor, noticing how everything was still the same. Dirty, cracked, and reeking. I patted my back pocket where I had the roll of bills I’d give her, planning to keep this quick and emotionless. Not that my mom was the affectionate type anyway—she wouldn’t cry or anything like that. It was all routine with her: she’d get what she wanted, mutter a thanks, and the only difference this time would be the goodbye.
I knocked on the door with my knuckles. I hated feeling anxious, but I couldn’t stop the growing knot in my chest that always showed up when I visited my mom. There was no answer from the other side. It wasn’t the first time, but for two in the afternoon, it was odd for her to be passed out from drinking. She usually had a snack around this time to keep powering through the country’s liquor supply, but apparently not today.
I knocked twice more before trying the doorknob, which was locked for a change. I reached into the hole a couple of feet from her door where I’d stashed a spare key after realizing it was a game for her to lose her keys at bars so men would track her down to return them, and she’d thank them with sex. I slid the key into the lock, turned the knob, and the door gave way. The stench of alcohol, mold, and cigarettes hit me, churning my stomach. I swallowed hard to keep the bile down.
“Mom?” I called, slipping the key into my other back pocket. “Mom?”
No response. The place wasn’t big; there wasn’t much to check. The kitchen and living room were one open space with no separation, so her bedroom was my only option left. I dodged the bottles littering the floor until I reached the door to her room.
“Mom, you in there?” Silence. “Damn it, this stress.”
I sighed in frustration and pushed the door open. Her pale body, covered only by a blanket that might’ve been white once, lay sprawled face-down on the bed. Her long, black hair was splayed everywhere, and one arm dangled off the edge. Her chest rose and fell, to my relief.
“Juliana,” I called her by name. “Juliana, wake up.”
I moved closer to where her head was and crouched down to eye level. I shook her shoulder, and her eyelids snapped open. She jerked back, clutching the fabric covering her chest. She stared at me for a few seconds, unable to recognize me or even figure out where she was. But when it finally clicked, and she could put a name to my face, she brought a hand to her face, letting out a barely audible curse.
“I brought what you asked for,” I said, standing up and pulling out the roll of bills. “It’s a thousand bucks.”
I handed it to her with a small, forced smile. She took it and sat up, counting the money with shaky hands. I scanned her with my eyes, stopping at some small red and purple marks on her arms. The realization hit me a few seconds later.
“Are you using drugs?” I grabbed her arm harder than I meant to. Juliana looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. “This is unbelievable, damn it!”
I let go of her arm and kicked a vodka bottle on the floor. It smashed against the wall, shattering into pieces. Mom flinched at my outburst, trembling even more from fear. I filled my lungs with air to calm down and not scare her further. Plenty of people had raised a hand to her, but I wouldn’t be one of them.
“What do you want from me?” I asked in a whisper. “What, Mom?”
“Gala, forgive me. I promise I’ll stop with this money. Yesterday was my first time using drugs, and it’ll be my last,” she said, getting on her knees and trying to move closer to me.
“I was never enough reason for you to get better when I was around,” I stepped back. “My being gone will just be your excuse to fall into this new habit.” I mustered the little strength I had to say the rest. “It’s over. You’re not getting another cent from me. I’m done.”
“Gala, honey, no.”
I left the room with her stumbling after me. She wasn’t even sober enough to say goodbye properly.
“Gala, don’t do to me what your father did,” she grabbed my arm. I looked at her grip with disgust and pulled away without much effort.
“I’m not doing anything. You’re doing this to yourself,” I spat with anger. “I’m not to blame for any of this. I’ve been supporting you since I was twelve, and all you’ve done is pump your system full of booze to get over a man who doesn’t give a damn about you, just like the dirt on his damn boots.”
The next thing I felt was her hand landing on my cheek, my face burning from the slap. I touched the spot, brushing away the tears stinging my eyes. I moved my jaw and faced her again. Regret was written all over her face, and before a flood of apologies could spill from her mouth, I spoke.
“Dad might’ve been a bastard for leaving me at twelve, but he didn’t hesitate to help when I called him a couple of months ago because three jobs weren’t enough to pay for your crap,” I said in a dangerously low tone. “I’ve got a new job, one I’m not gonna mess up just to come here and clean up your mess. You already ruined my military career once; I’m not letting you do it again.”
I gave her one last look before turning away and opening the door.
“You don’t understand, Gala. When he left me, he stole my happiness, and now he’s stealing you.”
From the doorway, I glanced at her over my shoulder. Her face, once beautiful with striking blue eyes, was ruined by deep bags and a mess of wrinkles that made her look fifty. She was barely forty.
“And you stole my mother,” I replied. “I guess we both lost something.”
I walked out, slamming the door behind me with a loud bang. As I headed downstairs, I ran into Alicia. She saw my expression, nodded, and left with me without a word.
At some point, my mom would realize that when you lose something, the answer isn’t to cling to it and wait forever for it to come back. You find something new to replace it and make it better than what you lost. My dad was her first loss, and though I tried for years to be the best replacement, it seemed I’d never be enough.