Szelem had never been a very good mother, not since Jada had been very young, and not since money had come back into the Chamberlyn lifestyle through Michael's wise investments. And apparently, based on the gentle curve of her mother's belly that Jada was seeing under the gown that she wore, she was continuing that trend, and had carried it over to her former marriage.
“You cheated on Daddy.” It had come out more of a shriek, for all that she felt numb and dull.
“Don't say it like that!” Szelem cried, and buried her face in her hands.
“Then how am I supposed to say it?”
“It was a moment of weakness.” the older woman had snarled it, and reached for her glass. Alcohol. Jada could almost smell it from her spot standing. It only took a step or two to get to her, reach out, and slap the glass from her mother's hand without thinking. The red wine splashed across cream carpet, the crystal goblet falling to the ground.
Line eyes met Violet, furious, narrowed. It wasn't hard for Jada to keep her face blank. “And just what do you think you're doing Mother?” Alcohol was terrible for babies, and what they needed right now was not Szelem taking on alcoholism as a hobby.
“Taking a drink. Moving this glass to my lips, or I was. You're paying for the carpet cleaning.”
“Not while you're pregnant. Even Lucas would know that much. Have them add the cleaning to my tab.” Her sibling. Christ on a Cracker. Jada was eighteen. Zora and Kayley were thirteen. Lucas was ten. And Szelem was pregnant.
The laugh startled her, and she turned in time to see Szelem crumple to the floor. Jada went with her, catching her in her arms and pulling her mother close. “Oh lord,” Szelem breathed, “What will Michael say?”
“Oh, I'm sure there will be plenty.” Jada's lips twisted. “Starting with, 'Couldn't she have waited until the ink on the divorce papers was dry' most likely.” She watched the dark head jerk up, and the face that was so like hers jerk into a snarl, contorted in something that Jada didn't understand. That Jada never wanted to understand. And then just like a ripple, the face was smooth as glass.
“Go away, Jada.” Szelem told her as her eldest daughter let go of her. “Get out. You've always been my biggest disappointment.” It was what Szelem's mother had last said to her. Such a dysfunctional Mother-daughter relationship.
It was Jada's turn to laugh, and she reached out for a bottle of water. “Then why did you call me? You don't want to admit that you're pregnant to Daddy, obviously. And it is kind of hard to hide it when you have four children. What did you want, an ally? Or...” Ah. Yes, that would be true. “Money, mother?”
“No.” Szelem looked sullen.
“You're greedy. Father gave you so much, and you want more?” Jada regretted it now, not being able to stop the hate that poured from her lips.
“No!” the older woman screamed it at her, finally breaking, throwing a pillow at her head. “Get out! You were a mistake, you always have been!”
“Well Mother,” Jada snarled, “You always made fabulous mistakes.”
Silence.
When the green-eyed woman spoke, it was slow. Deliberate. “I did you a disservice, when you were growing up.” They were both going to regret this fight in the morning. It was the kind of fight she'd never wanted to have with Jada. It was the kind of fight she'd always been waiting for, pushing Jada to the edge, pushing her over it with every decision she'd forced onto her in her childhood. Why shouldn't Jada think Money was Szelem's only motive? Jada had seen what happened to the love Michael and Szelem had felt for each other. Money was the thing she'd taught her oldest daughter to value, more than relationships, or feelings. Szelem was seeing the consequences of her own actions for the first time, in poison poured out of the mirror.
A mirror with Michael's eyes.
As for Jada, she was nauseated. Where had this gone wrong? Why was she saying these things? “I shouldn't have come.” Jada's voice was thick, bile rising in the back of her throat.
“You're right.” Szelem had her hands on her stomach, her face pale. “I shouldn't have asked you.”
There was silence, until Jada stood up and her mother stood woodenly with her. They were like little toy soldiers moving to the door, one foot in front of the other in perfect tandem. Jada's soft lips pressed to her mother's powdered cheek, ignoring the taste of makeup and salt. “I love you.” she whispered. It was true.
“We'll talk in the morning.” Szelem said woodenly, and closed the door in her face.
“You cheated on Daddy.” It had come out more of a shriek, for all that she felt numb and dull.
“Don't say it like that!” Szelem cried, and buried her face in her hands.
“Then how am I supposed to say it?”
“It was a moment of weakness.” the older woman had snarled it, and reached for her glass. Alcohol. Jada could almost smell it from her spot standing. It only took a step or two to get to her, reach out, and slap the glass from her mother's hand without thinking. The red wine splashed across cream carpet, the crystal goblet falling to the ground.
Line eyes met Violet, furious, narrowed. It wasn't hard for Jada to keep her face blank. “And just what do you think you're doing Mother?” Alcohol was terrible for babies, and what they needed right now was not Szelem taking on alcoholism as a hobby.
“Taking a drink. Moving this glass to my lips, or I was. You're paying for the carpet cleaning.”
“Not while you're pregnant. Even Lucas would know that much. Have them add the cleaning to my tab.” Her sibling. Christ on a Cracker. Jada was eighteen. Zora and Kayley were thirteen. Lucas was ten. And Szelem was pregnant.
The laugh startled her, and she turned in time to see Szelem crumple to the floor. Jada went with her, catching her in her arms and pulling her mother close. “Oh lord,” Szelem breathed, “What will Michael say?”
“Oh, I'm sure there will be plenty.” Jada's lips twisted. “Starting with, 'Couldn't she have waited until the ink on the divorce papers was dry' most likely.” She watched the dark head jerk up, and the face that was so like hers jerk into a snarl, contorted in something that Jada didn't understand. That Jada never wanted to understand. And then just like a ripple, the face was smooth as glass.
“Go away, Jada.” Szelem told her as her eldest daughter let go of her. “Get out. You've always been my biggest disappointment.” It was what Szelem's mother had last said to her. Such a dysfunctional Mother-daughter relationship.
It was Jada's turn to laugh, and she reached out for a bottle of water. “Then why did you call me? You don't want to admit that you're pregnant to Daddy, obviously. And it is kind of hard to hide it when you have four children. What did you want, an ally? Or...” Ah. Yes, that would be true. “Money, mother?”
“No.” Szelem looked sullen.
“You're greedy. Father gave you so much, and you want more?” Jada regretted it now, not being able to stop the hate that poured from her lips.
“No!” the older woman screamed it at her, finally breaking, throwing a pillow at her head. “Get out! You were a mistake, you always have been!”
“Well Mother,” Jada snarled, “You always made fabulous mistakes.”
Silence.
When the green-eyed woman spoke, it was slow. Deliberate. “I did you a disservice, when you were growing up.” They were both going to regret this fight in the morning. It was the kind of fight she'd never wanted to have with Jada. It was the kind of fight she'd always been waiting for, pushing Jada to the edge, pushing her over it with every decision she'd forced onto her in her childhood. Why shouldn't Jada think Money was Szelem's only motive? Jada had seen what happened to the love Michael and Szelem had felt for each other. Money was the thing she'd taught her oldest daughter to value, more than relationships, or feelings. Szelem was seeing the consequences of her own actions for the first time, in poison poured out of the mirror.
A mirror with Michael's eyes.
As for Jada, she was nauseated. Where had this gone wrong? Why was she saying these things? “I shouldn't have come.” Jada's voice was thick, bile rising in the back of her throat.
“You're right.” Szelem had her hands on her stomach, her face pale. “I shouldn't have asked you.”
There was silence, until Jada stood up and her mother stood woodenly with her. They were like little toy soldiers moving to the door, one foot in front of the other in perfect tandem. Jada's soft lips pressed to her mother's powdered cheek, ignoring the taste of makeup and salt. “I love you.” she whispered. It was true.
“We'll talk in the morning.” Szelem said woodenly, and closed the door in her face.
((Yes, still backposting solos. A few more to go!))
