SMS 23'| Except Me

My life is normal like any other 12 year old girl. I go to school, play sports, travel, and I have my mom. We lost dad to an accident a year ago. And my mom and I still haven't recovered from the depression that came with his death. I still curse that car for crashing into dads.

Here I am now in the living room, on a Thursday, at 9:30 PM, watching another episode of SpongeBob. Mom’s out, probably drinking at a club for all I know. To describe my mom in a few words, I’d say she's always on the hunt for a man, but she balances that out with her good cooking and parenting. Watching SpongeBob always makes me want to snack on something, so I scrambled to the kitchen with my fuzzy socks on to get a bag of chips and apple juice. When heading back to my couch, I heard a knock on the door. I took a gamble, hoping it was mom at the front, and opened the squeaky red door to find that a man was carrying my mother on his back! I freaked! But before I could say anything, he started speaking,”Hi, is this Mrs. Allen’s house? Sorry, she threw up at the bar and I was accompanying her.”

All I could say was,”Yeh. Thanks for bringing her back.”

He had a long black cloak on with dress shoes and a fairly nice blue suit on. And mom had on her normal office outfit. A white button up shirt, black wide-leg pants, and black slides. It was like a scene from a romance novel. Mom was sleeping on his back, with her face hanging from his shoulder. It gave me chills. He looked nice and tall, but that didn’t mean anything to me. I would never let this man, who was carrying my mom home from the bar, to step foot in my house. I grabbed Mom by the arm and hip and dragged her to the spot where my warm butt sat on for hours. I thanked the man and shut the door with the brass knob. I exploded! Questions were filling my brain and I was scared to ask mom. Has she forgotten about dad already?

I went to the kitchen to get some water for mom,then came back to her watching the T.V. with a massive grin. “Why are you grinning like that?”,I said.

Disturbed by the thought, Mom is grinning from cheek to cheek over another man. She began walking to her room humming along the way. I still question my knowledge of love, but I felt this weird yucky feeling of my mom possibly falling in love again for another man.

The next day, I forcefully flung myself out of bed at 6:50 for a class I had scheduled for. Mom was still fast asleep on the couch drooling. I waited at the nearest bus stop where the bus should be arriving. I always felt like I was putting a mask on whenever I went to school. Conversations with people scare me. So I replaced my weird social skills by duplicating Mom. With a smile, some nods and little chats, I made it through all my days in school. Class ended in awkward silence at my end as always. I had my AirPods on the whole bus ride home.

I opened the door with a few jiggles of the key and a whiff of a tomato aroma shot at me. Mom was cooking. I flung my items on the couch and ran to her. She had her tacky hot pink apron in, holding a large black pot of tomato red pasta. She placed the pot on a towel on top of the dining table. I scrambled to get the cutlery and back. I knew I had to bring up the topic of the man last night. “Mom, who was that man yesterday?”

“Oh. We've been seeing each other for about a month now. I wanted to tell you sooner, but you looked so stressed about your finals and I didn’t want to stress you out more honey.” I was stunned. Mom was seeing another man after my dad died 6 months ago! “What’s his name? Tell me that at least.”

“His name is Mr. Jones. I know this must be a lot to process for you honey, but you’ve gotta move on. We both can’t dwell on the past.”, Mom replied.

The words shot me like bullets. “Dwell on the past”. I felt like mom wanted to forget about dad. Forget that all our special moments with him were just in the past. I couldn’t understand my mom. She was the type of mom who would listen to her child's thoughts before committing to something. But it looked like my mom’s brain wasn’t working correctly. “How did you overcome the fact that dad died a year ago and you are here thinking of kissing another man. All you care about is your love life. Did you process what might be going through my head?”

I couldn’t even look at my mom. Everything began looking blurry. I was crying. Silently, I scrambled to my room. Tears trickled down and soon my nose got stuffy. I made zero to no sound. I hated the sound of people crying. It would only draw attention to myself and the last thing I wanted was for my mom to walk through my door.

The sun was shining directly at me the next day. When I woke up, I heard much more noise from Moms room than typical Saturdays. The walls in the house were very thin, but I usually don’t eavesdrop on Mom. But today, I have a reasonable excuse to. I cupped my ear to the wall and overheard Mom talking on the phone. Saying, “That's terrible Michael. Feel free to come by my house. You can stay if you need to for a few weeks or until your apartment is fixed.”

The name Michael didn’t ring a bell, but I could guess that was Mr.Jones. I knew Mom wasn’t thinking rationally. She knows I don’t like his company, but she’s letting him in with open arms into the house? Questions were floating in my head, that I couldn’t even listen to what they were saying. I was pleading he would say “no” to Moms offer, but the phone wasn’t on speaker. I waited until my mom hung up the phone, so I could scurry to her room. ”Why are you inviting Mr.Jones to stay at our house?”

“His apartment is flooded and he needs to stay somewhere else.”

“Did he say yes to your offer?”

“Yes, and he’ll be moving in with us tomorrow.”

“But where is he gonna sleep? Are you gonna kick me out of my room and make me sleep on the couch?”

“He’ll be sleeping with me.” The words echoed and bounded in my head. Mom has changed, she's past dad. But I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever accept Mr.Jones. When was I gonna confront my mom, have a serious talk with her about Mr.Jones? I loathe serious conversations with parents, just like the ones with teachers, but I get to talk back a bit. I walked back to my room. Sitting in the corner of my room, holding Baloo the bear. Dad gave me him when I turned 5.

These days, I’m more focused on my family matters rather than my grades. It’s uncanny to me, I just want to go back to my normal life. I miss dad. If he was still here, I wouldn't have to go through this. A tear trickled down my cheek and soon, a heavy flow of them came running down.

It was a chilly, foggy day in New York. I personally love this weather. I changed into my school uniform and mom was already in the car with my sausage for breakfast. Mom usually drives me to school, but sometimes I gotta take the rusty bus, because she sleeps in. When we arrived at the drop off line, the bell had already rung and tons of students were all rushed into the doors. School ended at 2:50, as usual and i’m pacing back home from school. My parents took proper thought about where we would be living, and if it would be convenient for me. And I’d say they met the mark. Walking back took 10 minutes. When I got to the front porch, I noticed a blue car parked in our driveway. I took the house keys out of my backpack pocket and unlocked the door to see Mom and Mr. Jones talking in the living room. He looked like he came back from work and so did Mom. Mr. Jones had on tan slacks and brown dress shoes this time. And Mom, a low bun, and a blue dress. They both stopped their conversation to look at me at the door. “Hi honey, welcome back. Remember, Mr.Jones here is going to be staying with us starting today.”

“Yeh, I remember. Didn’t know he was this eager to stay here.”

They both looked stunned, but before mom could say anything, I strode to my room with my backpack dragging the floor. I could hear my mom talking from the living room saying, “Sorry about her, she’s very protective.”

Mom was right about that, and I didn’t want him near Mom, but what power did I have? Mom is obviously in love with that man, and I want my mom to be happy. By the time I was done with my nighttime routine, it was 8:43 PM. Mom told me to come out of hiding for dinner, but I screamed back, “Not hungry!”.

It was a good excuse to not sit next to those love birds. I had a lot on my mind. Mom, Mr.Jones, love, finals, and Dad. It was 1AM, I was in my bed, holding Baloo. I was still up on my phone like a normal soon to be teenager. I couldn’t sleep. My throat got sore so I got up and went to the kitchen to get a cup of water. While in the midst of pouring, Mom came out of her room and met me in the kitchen. I really didn’t want this to happen. “Can’t sleep?”

“Yeh guess he can’t either.” moving my head to Mom’s room.

“You can’t be like that missy. I get that you don’t like Mr. Jones, but I love him. You’ll soon come to your senses one day and see that he’s a good man.” Mom said all that with a weak voice, like she was sick, but I overlooked it.

“I don’t like him, I despise him. What if he proposes to you, he’ll be my stepfather. Dad is dead! Will he be able to fit his shoes? Why did you have to move on so fast, it’s like Dad is a blur to you now.” Tears were about to run down, but I kept a stern face. Mom looked like she was in the midst of crying. I felt worrisome from the face Mom was making, but my pride made me forget. I power walked all the way to my room.

A few minutes later, I heard a loud thud coming from the kitchen, it didn’t sound like an object. Mom. I cracked the door open, to see that Mr.Jones was on his knees looking down. Then he looked at me with a horrified face. “ Your mom fainted, call 911.”

I panicked, was it because of me? “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“It's fine, call 911 for now we’ll sort this out later.” He was a very poised man, with a calm voice, he directed my unpoised self to the telephone. I called and told the woman on the phone all the information you learned in elementary when you were 7. I was shaking and my words were barely making it to the dispatcher. Next thing I know, a siren sound became louder and louder, bright red and blue lights shined through the window and there were 5 people in the house. They brought Mom onto a stretcher and they were off. Mr.Jones was talking to a man with a clipboard, so I couldn’t interfere with their conversation. When the car left I started crying again. He tried his best to comfort me and hugged me in his arms. He was a nice dude, I just don’t like the idea of Mom having a boyfriend. It wasn’t his fault. “They’re taking your mom to the hospital, so how about we get in my car and meet her there.”

I never noticed he had such a calm, tranquil voice. I nodded and slipped my purple crocs on. The car ride there was awkward, we didn’t talk, no music was playing. If I was him, I wouldn’t be talking to me either. I’ve been ill-mannered to him, why should he forget about that. When we got to the front desk, Mr.Jones did some paperwork and we were able to see Mom. I was worried, what was I supposed to say to her? Will she resent me? Those were my thoughts as we made our way up the elevator. A nurse by the name Janice was in front of Moms door. She looked at us with a fake smile and said, “Mrs.Allen fainted. It’s common for people that are distressed to faint easily. Just make sure to keep an eye on her and have her take it easy. Mrs. Allen is awake, but she has a small fever. Nurses will be coming in and out from the room so don’t mind that.”

We both thanked her and she was off. When I walked in, a gust of cold air flung my hair back and I saw Mom. She had on an oversized blue hospital gown and had her hair in a messy bun. In a bed, with an IV piercing her arm. My mom was looking at us with a dull face. I ran to Mom. “I’m sorry Mom. I’m so sorry.”

Mom hugged me with open arms. “It’s ok Cindy. Mommy is here. This won’t happen again.”

I was sobbing, my nose was stuffy, like a brick wall had been built to block my air flow. When I was done with my air tight hug with Mom, Mr. Jones swooped in and hugged her too. Their silhouette didn’t bother me, Mom’s health was the only thing on my mind.

It’s been a month since that incident. I’c accepted Mr. Jones staying here. This time, she discussed the topic with me and I couldn’t refuse. My Mom hasn’t been smiling since dad was around, which meant she was truly happy. My name is Cindy Fiona Allen and I’m living happily with my Mom and her boyfriend under one roof.