Trapped in his End Game (Series)

“Mom!”

My ear is flattened against the wooden door, and I can’t hear any movement inside. Any sign that anyone’s home. A siren wails in the distance, making me jump.

Only a frantic phone call from my mother would make me abandon my obligation to deal at a card game. She may be a pain in the ass, but she’s still my mother.

“Mom!” My fist hammers against the wood, rattling the cheap brass knocker, until finally I heard the turn of the deadbolt.

The door is yanked open to reveal boxes piled up to the ceiling and my mother wearing ratty looking pajamas, a cigarette hanging from her lips and her hair mussed up like she just rolled out of bed. She looks at me with heavily lidded, calm eyes.

She is perfectly fine, and although that relieves me-it makes me incredibly angry, too.

“Mom, what’s the problem?” I ask as I step inside, immediately feeling my skin crawl from the stuffiness inside the house. Racks and racks of metal display cages sit against the wall, the price tags still attached. Jade jewelry sits in a pile on the coffee table. “What the hell is all this?”

“I’m making my own jewelry and selling it on EBay. These displays were on sale at Target. I saved a lot of money.” She grins happily as she shows me them and moves around the house, showing me more useless shit she bought because it was “on sale.”

I want to tear my hair out. She wasted my money on this junk? My hard earned money. I’m so broke that all I can’t even afford the meal plan at school. Not mom. She has boxes and boxes of instant food, huge bottles of water shoved into a corner (in case of a disaster), and she even has beer.

“I know you said not to call you about money-”

“So you decided to lie to me to drag my ass all the way over here, wasting my time.” I want to rip apart her stupid jade jewelry and throw the beads in her face.

She has the audacity to look offended.

“It is an emergency. Honey, I need money to pay for my electricity…my rent. Things are really tight.”

Fury builds inside my chest. “I already gave you money. You decided to spend it on junk. Not my problem.”

I turn around to leave. If I hurry, I might not be late for the card game. I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but showing up like this would be better than not showing up at all.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

A bony hand seizes my arm. “Don’t fucking turn your back on me, Adriana! I need you, just like you needed me when you were little. This is how families have been for generations. In Italy, families live together, even when their children get married. You’re supposed to take care of me.”

“No, Mom. You were supposed to take care of me.”

“Yeah, and I think I did a pretty good job.”

You didn’t.

Her brown eyes gleam as she looks at me, a tear streaking down her lined face. When she turns her head, the light catches her face in a way that reminds me when she was younger. She was better. She didn’t hoard things until after Dad died. Against my will, I feel myself soften. What happened to my Mom? Why can’t she heal?

It’s the same reason I haven’t healed.

She spends her days alone, stuck in this dreary house that needs so many repairs that she can’t afford. There’s no one to help her. No one except me.

“Please, baby. You’re all I have left since Dad was taken from us.”

“What happened to your job at Target?”

She looks down at my shoes. “I quit. My back hurts from standing all the time. I can’t do it anymore.”

I can’t do it anymore, either. Despair chokes my lungs as I realize I’ll never be free of this. Of her.

“You’re really lucky that I have a well paying job.” I sit down on an uncluttered space on the couch and rip out my checkbook. I had a feeling that I would need it. “I’m not giving you cash anymore, Mom. You just end up wasting it. I’ll pay your bills, but I won’t give you cash.”

Her eyes narrow as she stands in front of me, exhaling smoke through her teeth to billow around me. I know she hates it. She hates being at my mercy. I won’t let her control me anymore.

I scribble out checks to PG&E, to the landlord, even to fucking Comcast. They’re slammed against the table. “Don’t ever lie to me like this again.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?” Her hair shakes as she screams at me. “I’m your mother!”

Standing up, I have a violent image of lunging across the table and wrapping my hands around her throat, squeezing until her eyes bulge. A second later, I’m sickened with myself.

“Bye, Mom.”

She screams and rages at me the whole way out, and it takes everything in me not to turn around and fight back. All the hurtful insults roll off my shoulders.

The door slams behind me and I strain myself trying to remember happy memories with my mom. There was a time that she saved enough money to send me to summer camp when I was thirteen. I was so excited about it. She blew the money on an expensive purse she saw that was on sale. I cried about it for days.

My phone buzzes angrily and I reach inside my purse as I walk swiftly towards the subway. I clamp it over my ear.

“Why aren’t you here?” The cold voice hisses in my ear. It’s completely without warmth.

“I’m sorry, Vince. My mother said she had an emergency. I’m on my way now.”

At once, his voice softens. “Is she okay?”

The question makes me boil. “Yeah, she’s fine,” I say with a little heat in my voice. “False alarm. I’m really sorry.”

“Forget about it. Family first. Just get here when you can.”

What if I can’t stand my family?