I watched him drive away then locked the front door and flipped off the front porch light. I walked up the stairs heading to the third floor to my room. I liked being home even if it meant living with Yancy again. She didn’t seem so bad when compared to James’s tirades. On the second floor I heard my mother call my name so I stopped by her room. It was three A.M.
My father wore the same plaid flannel pajamas he had worn since I was a kid. My mother’s soft cotton nightgown with a delicate floral pattern was her same attire. Many a boyfriend had seen my mother’s nightgowns when she came flying downstairs to shoo them away after curfew.
“I thought you were tired?” Walking into the room, I sat on the edge of the bed I said this in a soft whisper so I didn’t bother my father, My father lay on his side snoring softly sleeping like the dead. No one would wake him till morning. I smoothed the quilt that covered their bed with my hand, a floral pattern soft and delicate like the pattern on my mother’s nightgown.
I smiled at her. “Micki and I had a nice talk.”
“I bet you did,” she replied knowingly. “Byron doesn’t come around much these days.” We were both whispering now
I imagine not. This wasn’t the time for sarcasm so I kept quiet.
“She was here a week ago with bruises on her upper arms and the side of her face,” my mother said unable to meet my gaze. Yancy was worried about Michaela.
“Downstairs I was thinking about why she and I have allowed these men to do this to us. You and dad have had your problems, normal problems, I mean but you are solid right? You built in us strong self-esteem but we have both failed as adults.”
“Gabrielle, you never had good self-esteem because of your weight problem as a child. You can’t fool your old mother. Your father and I set a good example for you and your sisters sometimes but in many ways we failed you all four.”
“Don’t say that,” I told her softly.
Yancy was gazing at me. Finally, she said, “No matter. Gabrielle you and your sister are not failures. You both have raised beautiful children.
”
“Jack is an ass like his father,” I declared.
We both chuckled. My nephew was an ass. There was no hope but Wynnie my niece was a wonderful human being. I loved that child.
“She’s a wonderful cook you know. You have your own talents. I don’t want you to ever think you are failures because you made mistakes with the men that you chose,” my mother told me. Still trying to keep our voices down so we didn’t wake my father.
“What talent do I have? Adin has artistic talent. Micki is a culinary genius. Gem is a financial wizard. Yancy, what is my talent?” I asked my mother sadly.
“I remember some very intense poetry that you wrote as a teenager. I remember your love of books that led you to write some excellent essays and short stories in high school. Your talent lies with your ability to write words. I still have those papers in the attic,” she told me. “Maybe you should refresh your memory and read some of your work.”
I scooted up beside my mother and kicked off my shoes. I wanted to be close to her. She was my rock. She was strength. No matter how much she interfered in our lives she was our center.
“Do you know my biggest fear is that I’m too much like you?” I asked knowing that she would understand.
She chuckled. “Like I feared being like your grandmother. She was wishy-washy so I made sure I was strong and opinionated.”
I glanced at Yancy and then down at my hands. “I hear myself say things to Keegan that I know you have said to me at some time or other.”
“Gabrielle everything I’ve done with you girls I always thought I had your best interests at heart. You know that don’t you?” She didn’t wait for my response although my answer would have been yes. “I have made mistakes but we all do as parents.”
“I’ve made some doozies.”
“Gabrielle, you are a fine mother. I don’t agree with Keegan’s hair color or her dress. I definitely don’t understand piercing your eyebrow. By the way, that thing is hideous how it’s coming out right now.”
I chuckled thinking that I agreed with her. I was certain that Keegan was close to letting the hole close although she would have a permanent spot in her eyebrow where the hair would not grow back.
“My mother didn’t agree with anything that I did and God help me Rosa was constantly criticizing me about how I raised you girls.”
Surprised I looked at Yancy. “I didn’t know that.”
“Because your father wouldn’t let her criticize me in front of you girls.”
“I didn’t think that Pop ever stood up to Grandma Rosa,” I said with awe. “She was scary.”
Yancy laughed out loud. “Yes, she was. You should have seen me when I first married your father determined not to let her intimidate me. It was a battle at first that your father hated.”