“Summoned again.” I announce to no one as I trek down the hallway of my apartment toward the kitchen for a cup of coffee.
That’s how I feel about my visits with my mother.
She beckons, I go.
Our time together is never enjoyable and often results in me sitting impassively in a chair and glaring daggers at the woman who gave birth to me.
Looking back, I remember trying to fight for my relationship with her. When I was younger, I made up excuse after excuse for her horrible behaviour until I saw her for what she was: a narcissist too consumed by her own selfishness to ever see those of us who would have loved her if she gave us a chance.
My desperation turned to disdain, then apathy over the years as I realized there was no place in her life for anything other than her own needs, and that included me. I was merely a tool used to help her get the next thing she felt she deserved.
Growing up, I thought my parents had it all but I blame my starry-eyed ideals on the naivety of my youth. Money is never important to a child. Not when you have attention, affection and an endless supply of long sunny days playing with your parents at the family summer beach house.
But I learned quickly how important money is to adults as I listened in on late night arguments.
My father made a good living. We were considered rich by many standards although we never bought many extravagant things. My dad always said, if it worked, second-hand was as good as new.
My mother didn’t share his position. According to her, there was always room to be even bigger. She continuously pushed him to go after more or work harder so she could continue to buy everything brand new, saying to me, ‘If someone else didn’t care enough to keep it, it was trash and we don’t own garbage.’
My father pushed back, opting to spend his time with my mom and me in place of striving to be the best and make more than enough at the expense of his connection to his family. I remember him saying, ‘We have enough money, but I’ll never have enough of the both of you.’
But it was never enough for her.
Eventually she left in pursuit of her own treasures, but she didn’t go alone. She made sure to fight for custody since I would come with a hefty monthly check from daddy. The final custody ruling broke my dad’s heart but we made the most of the times we got to spend together. That was, until five years ago when my father suffered a massive aneurysm and died before I could get to his side in the hospital.
Losing my father crushed me. The only person in my life who was happy with enough.
When I was with him, I was enough.
But in the end, I was alone.
I went to the funeral alone. Evelyn, which is what I call my mother now, couldn’t be bothered to leave her charmed life for a one-hour drive to the funeral home to support her only daughter in saying goodbye to her dad.
In the church, I sat among his business associates, staff and some of his friends and I pretended they were part of my social circle as well, but they weren’t.
I stood on the beach in front of our little cabin and spread his ashes alone, crying my goodbyes against the wind as it came in off the lake to take him away from me.
And now I am alone.
My mother uses me for her own means as she sees fit. She pulls me out and dusts me off when she needs to show how amazing she is, then she puts me away and forgets about me just as quickly, and for the next six weeks, I have to go along with it as she is holding the one thing I so desperately want over my head.
We weren’t enough. I wasn’t enough.
Now, I’ve just about had enough.
Just about.
- - ~ - -
“Hello, Mother. You called?” I speak through gritted teeth in the most cordial voice I can manage but the word mother always seems to sound trite.
“Yes, my dear Jayne. I never get to see you anymore.” The high pitch of her insincere tone makes me roll my eyes at my mug of coffee. Her mock warmth is my first clue someone else is within earshot of her and it is someone she is trying to impress.
“Oh well, you know me. Always busy and stuff. What do you want?” I’ve learned to get to the point quick with her.
“I’m having lunch in the garden with Howard, Darling, and I was telling him how you were in between jobs right now and he said one of the companies he’s invested in is hiring. It isn’t one of his, but he can send over your information if you are interested.” She sounds like she is trying to be helpful, but what probably happened is that she was attempting to talk about how she is so understanding of her out-of-work daughter and dear Howard is having none of it.
Being the decent guy that he is, instead of cajoling her rants, he’s offered to help and she had no choice but to play along and hope that it would be me who turns down his generous offer.
Not today, Mommy Dearest.
The truth is, an offer is an offer and I need this job. She is the last person I would dare tell my troubles to but I have enough for only a couple more months of rent before I go grovelling to her for help and that is not going to happen.
“That sounds wonderful, Mother.” I jack my sweetness level up to a ten and ask her to put Howard on the phone so I can thank him personally. I can hear her voice hitch in her throat as she reluctantly passes me off to her newest sugar daddy.
Howard is a nice guy. I met him when my mother first sank her claws into him and moved into his home a short month later.
He is my mother’s big fish.
Since divorcing my father, she has slowly climbed the ranks of suitors and husbands and Howard will be her fourth husband although she’s probably already told him that he will be her third since she doesn’t count her marriage to Mike that lasted only two months before she caught him balls deep in the maid and settled out with a big payday.
Howard is too good for my mother. He reminds me of my dad. The first time I saw them together, he just looked content. It was the same look that my dad used to have when he talked about having everything he could ever want.
It breaks my heart to see her play a character around him. I know in the end she will only leave him feeling bitter and alone and I hope he sees her true colors before he gets in too deep.
“Hello, Jayne. How are you doing today?” Howard’s voice is genuine and it makes me smile into the phone.
“I’m wonderful, Howard. How are you?” We exchange our pleasantries and he tells me about a company that he is heavily invested in, Hale Property Management. Apparently due to growth and restructuring, some new departments have been created and administration staff is required.
As I thank him for sending my information over for review he tells me that consideration isn’t required. He says if I want a job, they need bodies and it would just go through as a request, not an application and I could report in on Monday unless I hear from him.
“Yes. Thank you, Howard. I appreciate you sending my information over. I’ll email you my resume right now.” I speak excitedly, failing to reel in my enthusiasm.
I’ve been unemployed for three months and my bank account has been running on empty.
I loved my last job. I did data entry and online research so I was pretty much left on my own. Put my time in and leave. All good things must come to an end though and the company ended up going through massive layoffs and our department was the first to be outsourced.
I’ve been applying for work ever since. There have been a lot of interviews, but nothing further. The job market is tough right now and as many positions as there are that pop up, there are more than enough applicants.
Saying another thank you and goodbye to Howard, I make an excuse that I need to shop for some new work clothes this afternoon and ask Howard to say my goodbyes to my mother for me.
I’m ending my week on a high note and she’ll only knock me down a few pegs anyway.
Monday can’t come soon enough.
