So Many Reasons Why (So Many Reasons 1)

visit. I checked my email again.

Shit! I struggled to sit up. Another reply from Maria.

She had told me all about her life in New Zealand, and her family. Her two daughters, her husband, their dog, Ziggy, and their two pet cats. The last thing in her email was a phone number. I stared at the number, trying to work up the courage to call. Hell, I didn’t even know what time it was in New Zealand. Fuck it, I decided. Before I could change my mind, I dialled the number. If I didn’t do this now, I’d come up with a hundred reasons as to why I shouldn’t. Each ring made the nerves inside me triple. Just as I was about to slam the phone shut, someone answered.

“Hello?” The tired voice sounded half asleep. Oh shit.

“Maria?” Suddenly this didn’t seem like such a good idea.

“Who is this?” Her voice was clearer now. I suppose a call in the middle of the night would do that to you.

“It’s Emma. Your niece.” I waited impatiently for the silence to pass. Say something. Anything! Finally, she spoke.

“Emma.” Her voice now held wonder. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

“Is this a bad time? I feel like I woke you up.”

“No. Well, yes you woke me up, but this is great. I’m so glad you rang.”

“Sorry. I should have checked time differences and stuff. What time is it there?”

“It’s 4am.” I gasped. Fuck, had I really just called her at 4am? “Emma, it’s okay. It’s so good to hear from you.”

We spoke for over an hour. It felt awkward in the beginning, but it didn’t take long for me to relax into the conversation. Hearing about her life halfway across the world was fascinating.

“Why did you leave?” It had been something I’d been wondering for a while. What possessed someone so young to pack up and move so far from home?

“It’s complicated, Emma. I had major issues with mom. And your father. It became too hard to stay. Then I met Phillip. He was over there on a business trip. I felt nothing was stopping me from leaving.” Her voice broke, as if opening up these old wounds was too much for her.

“Have you thought about fixing things? With dad I mean?”

“Some things can’t be fixed, Emma.” Maria responded sadly. “Sometimes there is too much hurt, and betrayal.” She stopped, taking a breath. “I’m sorry Emma. Laying all this on you is not fair.”

“I’m sorry you were hurt, Maria. I hope we can fix our relationship.”

“I’d like that Emma. I’d like that a lot.” We said goodbye, promising to talk to each other again soon.

“So I spoke to Maria this morning.” Mom froze. She gripped the spoon in her hand tighter. Eventually she looked up at me.

“Maria?” Her voice was quiet. There was something odd in her expression, something I couldn’t put my finger on.

“Yes. I tracked her down. It felt strange for me that I have relatives I don’t even know.”

“How is she?” Mom asked, paying more attention to stirring her coffee than necessary. “Is she still with Phillip?” I nodded.

“She’s married with two girls. 14 and 15.” I paused, considering what to say next. “What happened mom? For her to leave home. Why wouldn’t dad want to know his nieces? His sister?” Mom shook her head and slammed her cup down hard. She turned to me, her eyes full of anger and anxiety.

“Do not mention her to me or your father again. Do you hear me?” I stared at mom, shocked by her aggressive outburst. Never had I seen her react like this. Not even following my attack.

“You can’t stop me from getting to know my aunt.” I replied. “Or my cousins.” Mom shook her head and laughed bitterly.

“You do what you like Emma. You always do.” Her words shocked me. Did she resent me? It sure sounded like it. What had I done to make her so angry with me? Since I was young, I’d always felt nothing was ever good enough. Following the attack, things got worse, quickly. Maybe that was just her way of coping with things, but it seemed more than that.

“What are you saying? You’re not making sense, mom.” Running my hands through my knotted hair, I pulled it through a hair tie as I tried to figure out what the hell was going on. Was she having some kind of breakdown?

“Everything is about you.” Mom tried to keep her voice even. “What about us? When was the last time you asked how I was going and meant it? You are such a selfish child. Everything is about you and the attack, and how hard things are for you.” There was venom in mom’s words. I stared at her in disbelief. This seriously could not be happening. Wasn’t the point of having a child to look after them and make everything about them?

“Where is this coming from, mom?” I ignored the tears, and the feeling of abandonment. “What the hell kind of mother says that to their daughter?” The anger was now coming through with force. “You call yourself a mother? A mother is supposed to support their child through everything. You haven’t supported me though anything! Everything is about you. No wonder I’m so messed up.” Mom sighed. She rested her head in her hands, defeated.