Say When

T W E N T Y - T H R E E

Steam lifted off my skin as the water streaked across my body. The water was as hot as I could take it. I let the jet hit directly in the center of my back where it seemed that years of tension was built up.

The two weeks since my first skim had gone by in a flurry of energy. I'd run the gamut on emotion. Fear. If someone saw me...the thought made my lungs seize up in my chest. Excitement. The connection between Jax and I on this deeper level.

Sadness. The strain between my Dad and I was absolutely palpable in this house. I wondered if he and I would make it through the two months to Graduation. I shut the water off. The rings of the shower curtain slid across the bar as I stepped out on to the pale yellow mat.

I stood in front of the mirror. Water dripped from my face and hair. The bareness of my face was disconcerting. I imagined where the foundation needed to be applied to cover blotches from past breakouts. Where a little eyeshadow wouldn't hurt. A little lip stain.

But I wouldn't put any on. I was in for the rest of the evening for the first time in a while. No shifts scheduled for tonight. I welcomed the chance to relax. I wrapped a towel tight around me and followed the billow of steam out of the bathroom and back to my room.

I cringed standing in the entrance of my room. The place was a complete mess. With all that was going on, my days were a blur. I came home only to sleep and change clothes and my room reflected that. I'd clean it tonight before a colony of critters started to grow under the piles.

I rooted around on the floor and found a tank top. Sniffed it. Seemed clean. Threw it on. A pulled some jersey shorts out of my drawer and slipped those on as well before wrapping the towel around my hair.

I connected my phone to the speakers on my dresser and put on a top pop playlist. My guilty pleasure. Shawn Mendes "In My Blood" sailed out of the speakers. I scooped up a pile of clothes from the floor and shoved it into the hamper.

The knock on the door came lightly. So light that I almost missed it. I leaped over a few piles of shoes and my backpack before making it to the door. I pulled it open and saw my Mother leaning against the door frame. The surprise caused me to lose my words for a moment.

"Hi." She said. Yes, that's what people say to one another.

"Hi." The towel around my head came slightly undone. I reached up to tighten it.

"I was hoping you were home." She said. My brow furrowed. It was the last thing I was expecting her to say seeing as how the last time she'd heard anything from me I was condemning her as a drug-addicted failure of a mother. I remembered and I'm sure she did. The weight of it still hung between us, resting nicely on top of the years of silence between us.

"Why?" I asked. She shifted her weight to her other leg temporarily and then back again, resting up against the door frame. Her yellow sundress swayed with her movements.

She'd worn that dress before. I remembered it hanging off of her bony shoulders just last year. But this year it hugged her body nicely. The ashen gray of her skin was replaced by a reddish undertone the shade of brown sugar and cinnamon. I'd felt like I watched her regenerate.

"I used to make these biscuits for your Dad." She said, pausing to allow a gentle cough. "I want to make them. But some of the stuff...I can't reach."

"Oh, okay." I was caught up in the "used to". She mentioned this time that seemed like it never existed. It was the same "used to" that my Dad held on to for all these years. They both seemed locked in that time.

She took in the space around me and past me. Peering into my room with wide eyes.

"I've never seen your room. You like green." Her roamed my bedspread and curtains. All green, the color of rolling hills. Earth. I loved it. Always have. I nodded, feeling like this was my first encounter with the woman who gave me life.