Well, I talked to her. My mom, I mean. She texted me yesterday morning needing to talk. I stepped out of the office on a break and called her back.
She asked me for money.
She’s never asked me for money. I had ALWAYS promised myself that A) I would never allow her to ask me for money and B) I would never, ever help her financially.
The words poured out like vomit. I crawled into the driver’s seat of my car and told her how angry I was. I was so disappointed. “I know, dear. I know.”
No, you don’t know. I told her that I don’t think it’s fair that we continue to have a relationship. I told her that I don’t trust her and that I don’t want to talk to her if Charlie’s in her life. She began to defend him. I told her that as long as he’s in the picture and is using drugs, I’m not going to talk to her.
She begged me. I had never heard her sound so desperate. She cried and begged me to take it back, to be patient, she’s just scared is all. In the midst of me telling her that this was my final straw, Charlie grabbed the phone from her. “Who the hell is this? Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“Give her back the phone, Charlie.”
“Fuck you, bitch.”
“Okay. Charlie, give her back the phone.”
“Fuck you, Kelli.”
My mom screamed. She kept screaming. I think he was hitting her, or hitting the phone. She screamed and cried and screamed. The phone went silent.
The phone is off.
I guess that’s how things ended.