My Heart's in Alabama

39 - Matt

"Why'd you do it?"

She inhales deeply. The pain is evident. It's a shot to the gut. Despite her probably expecting it, I could tell it still stung like hell.
"Before I start, I want you to know that I'm not excusing anything that I did. No matter the circumstances, I know it was the absolute wrong thing to do and I don't want you ever to feel like I don't acknowledge the hurt I caused."

"Please, Mom. Tell me."

Another heavy breath in.

"Have you ever heard of postpartum depression?"

Confused, I shake my head, "no."

"It's something some moms go through after giving birth. Like the baby blues, but much more severe. After I had Marcie, it hit me hard. I felt like I couldn't bond with her at all. It was like she was someone else's baby that I had absolutely no connection to. I was crying all the time. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't concentrate. I was angry. I was so angry and I couldn't understand why. I felt like I was a terrible mother. The longer it went on, the more I started to think about my life. Everything I had planned for myself, all the dreams I had felt so far away. I wanted to go to school. I wanted a career. I wanted my own business. I wasn't cut out to be a mother. I couldn't even love my own baby. I was trapped in this cycle of failure that I couldn't get out of and it was tearing me apart. So, I ran."

"To New Orleans?"

"Mmhmm. I enrolled in classes at Tulane. I had dreamed of studying there since I was a little girl. The city, the campus, the food, it was all so exciting. But then, well, you know, life had other plans and it got put on the back burner. Your father promised I'd still get to go someday, but the timing was never right for him. The kids were too young, we didn't have enough money, it was too far away. Anything to keep me from leaving. I never could quite accept it and with the PPD, it got so much worse. But like I said, that doesn't excuse anything."

"You never called."

"I know," she admits shamefully. "I wanted to. But I knew what I did was unforgivable. After how I acted, I thought you'd be better off without me. Everyday that went by confirmed that in my mind. The more time that went by, I felt like I'd only hurt you more by reaching out."

"But you did. You did reach out. Why? Why now?"

"I remembered the rule your father made about you playing football. I knew it was your first year on varsity and that things were going to be hard for you. I bet your father never told you this, but the second he quit the team to take care of us, his teammates, the people he once called his best friends, left him in the dust. It's like, nothing ever mattered to them except football. In their eyes, your father was only worth caring about if he was scoring touchdowns. When that stopped, so did the love they had for him. They blamed him for all their failures. Every game they lost, it was your father's fault. They'd say, if only Schaffer kept playing, we'd be state champions. If only Schaffer kept playing, I could be playing college ball. If only Schaffer kept playing, my life would be great. It never stopped. It still hasn't stopped. I prayed you wouldn't have to go through what he went through, but I know those people never change. History repeats itself in Hutton. It's easy to see the future and I didn't like what I saw. I was worried about you, Matty."

My heart lurches. All this time I thought she wanted nothing to do with me and now she's telling me she was worried about me? She thought about me? It's almost too much to bear.

"You were worried about me?" I choke.

"I was worried about all of you. You may not believe this, but I've thought about you kids and your father every day since I left. I miss you guys so much it hurts. I messed up. I know I messed up and I am so, so sorry for the pain I've put you through."
Her voice starts to shake and tears roll down her face, but she pushes on.

"I wish more than anything I could take it all back. Go back in time and stop myself from being so stupid and selfish, but I can't. Nothing will ever change the hurt I caused and I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. If after today you decide you never want to see me again, I'll understand completely. I just need you to know how much I love you and that none of this was your fault."

I didn't believe my dad when he said she regretted the choices she made, but her words are filled with so much pain, it starts to make me believe. Maybe she is being genuine and this time really could be different.

"What would it be like?" I ask carefully and quietly.

I'm unsure about myself and what I believe. Can I trust her? Is this really the step I want to take?

"If you moved in with me?"

I nod my head without speaking. I'm hesitant to admit that this might be something I'm actually considering.

"Well," she says. She makes one last sniffle and regains her composure to ensure she gives me a proper answer. "You know how I told you I took classes at Tulane? I graduated last summer with a Bachelor's degree in Architecture. Shortly after, I started my own firm. It was slow at first, but I've built up a portfolio for myself and rented out an office-slash-residential space for myself. I run my business on the first floor and live on the second floor. It'd be a little smaller than what you're used to, but it's two bedrooms and two baths, so you'd have some privacy and we can make whatever adjustments you need to make you feel more comfortable. There's not enough room for a desk in your bedroom, but I have an extra office downstairs you can use to do your homework. It's closed off and in the back, although it's generally pretty quiet anyway, so there won't be a lot of distractions. I'm sorry, am I talking too much?"

"No, not at all," I say, even though honestly, it's kind of a lot.

It would be a huge change. Massive. I'd have to leave behind everything I knew and start all over. New school. New friends. New football team. And I'd have to live with a mother I've just barely started to trust again. Shit, I don't know. This is crazy.

"I, uh, need time to think."

"Of course. Absolutely. You don't have to make a decision right now. Take all the time you want. Here," she says and reaches it into her purse. She rummages through it until she finds a pen and paper and quickly squiggles down a string of numbers. "Take my phone number. You can call me anytime. Anytime at all. If you just want to talk or if you have questions you need me to answer, I promise I'll be there."

She extends the piece of paper to me and with a bit of hesitation, I take it.

"Thank you. This...this means a lot."

"Of course. I mean it, Matty. I'll be there."

I nod my head as I clutch the paper in my hand. Goddammit. I was so sure nothing she said could change my mind. I wasn't going to live with her. No way in hell. But now, after seeing her, talking to her, and even just hearing her voice, God, I miss her. I miss her so much. Shit. I don't know what to do.