Book #12 is coming along, in spite of the fact that my main character is still nameless. Soon I'll need to give her a title. But I'm gonna stretch this out as long as I can. Who knows? Maybe I can go a long time. There's very little dialogue in this story, so that is a HUGE help. We'll see, I guess!
Love, Lisa
Dad brought home McDonald’s that night.
I ate my chicken sandwich quickly, trying not to think about the envelope resting at the bottom of our garbage can. Dad chewed his fries across the table. I almost felt sorry for the guy; he had no clue that there was a legal battle facing him. I wanted him to know the truth, but I couldn’t let him find out this way.
Mom should’ve had the courage to call us. She should’ve done this in a more personal, gentle way. Better yet, she should have tried to work things out. She’d always been so selfish. She put her own needs above everyone else’s.
Why didn’t she consider our feelings? Maybe Dad didn’t want a divorce…and maybe I wanted a mother. I’d never really had one. Even the times when Mom had lived here, she’d been distant. Her eyes were always focused on things that nobody could see. Nobody except her, that is.
After dinner, I helped Dad wipe down the kitchen table. He retreated to his office and I headed toward my bedroom. I was determined to re-do my math homework. In case I had gotten something wrong the first two times.
But I closed the textbook a couple seconds after opening it.
There was a greater issue at hand. I knew what I needed to do. If Mom wouldn’t take the time to contact me, I would contact her. The world wasn’t such a big place anymore; if I really wanted to find someone, I could do it. Easily.
Turning on my computer, I clicked on the internet icon. There had to be some information about my mother.
Jenny Williams, I typed into the search bar. Memphis, TN.
Nothing popped up. My mom was a ghost, apparently. She knew how to fly under the radar.
Jennifer Williams, I tried. Zip, zero, zilch.
Jen Williams.
She didn’t exist. Not in the cyberspace world, anyway. How was she surviving? She never worked when she stayed with us. She attended college for a few years, took some nursing classes. But she didn’t graduate. She’d relied on my father’s income since I was a baby. Each time she left, she took some more of Dad’s money. If I had a college fund, I’m sure she would’ve depleted it by now.
She’d been gone fourteen months this time. There was no way she was still living off the money she’d taken from us. She must have found some form of employment. It was the only explanation.
I turned off the computer and whipped out a sheet of notebook paper.
Mom,
I really need you right now.
Michelle Jenkins made me feel like an idiot today. She basically announced that we were never friends at all. I’m just the smart kid who helps people with homework. I knew this, I suppose. But nobody ever told me to my face. It felt awful. Am I a loser? Michelle seems to think so.
What am I supposed to do now? And what the heck are you doing in Memphis?
You always came back. You left for a couple weeks, sometimes a month or two.
But you always returned.
So why are you still gone? Why are things different this time? A divorce is final. You should know that Daddy still loves you, and so do I. Maybe we shouldn’t. You’ve always treated us like garbage. You were partly invisible, all that time you lived here. I might as well have lived with an emotionless robot.
And yet I miss you.
I miss having a mother nearby.
Are you ever going to call?
That’s all for now. If you get this, please write back to me. Please tell me I am wrong. Tell me you really did care but you just didn’t know how to show it. That would make a world of difference. It would change everything, I swear it would.
I folded the letter and stuck it inside a business-sized envelope. Those paragraphs were incoherent and childish. I’d never, ever turn in a paper like this…yet I refused to edit a single word.
Mom would have to send us another package. Dad couldn't sign the divorce papers, since they were covered in banana slime. Eventually Mom would have to mail the documents again.
And this time, maybe she'd include a return address. I would be waiting.
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