Kristen Mazzola - Crashing Back Down

Once outside, my mom hurriedly trotted after me, trying to thank me for dinner, or the lack thereof, in one of her condescending tones. Stopping dead in my tracks, I spun on my heels, my lips primed and I seethed, “Don’t worry about it. It is gladly on me, Mother.”

My mom started to riddle an apology in a shaky voice, and I just held my hand up, shaking my head. There was no saving this moment and I really didn’t want to deal with her trying. I reached the driver’s side of the truck, climbed in and let the sound of the engine lull me into a calmer state. I left the doors locked for a few seconds, while I breathed in the musty carpeting, faded leather, and slight hint of air freshener. Once I had my moment, I unlocked the passenger’s side door, and gave a swift hand wave to coax my mother into the vehicle.

On the ride home, my mom attempted to talk to me, but I simply ignored her. Yes, it was childish, but better that than start in on her again, or worse, break down again. We pulled into the driveway and before I even turned the engine off, I snarled, “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but for now we are not on good terms, and you need to give me space. I love you but I need you to learn how to respect me and my grieving.”

Her eyes slowly met mine, tears still streaming down her rosy, plump cheeks, “Honey, just remember, I didn’t have the luxury to grieve when your dad left. I had a daughter to be strong for.” That was a low blow, and my temper flared. I gripped the steering wheel and started to hyperventilate, fighting for words that were not too harsh.

Before I could start screaming about how I had to take care of her for months while she skipped work and didn’t even feed her six-year-old, she was out of the truck, slamming the door. I cooked, cleaned, and got myself ready for school every day after my dad walked out. Every fiber of my body screamed and shuddered with pain, heartbreak and rage. I wished I was able to express all of my hurt from the terrible memories I had buried deep down, but I knew it would just hurt her more, and there was no point after all these years.

I slammed my open palms into the steering wheel, screaming a few more times, and then whipped out my cell. With trembling hands, I dialed Cali’s number. Her soft, sweet voice cooed into the phone, “Mags? You okay?”

Through sobs, I tried to explain, but all I could get out was, “I had a fucking awful night trying to play nice with my mom. Want to slam back some wine and toast to shitty mothers?” Cali’s mom was worse than mine, if that was even possible, and I was so glad she didn’t ask me to explain. Thankfully, she had gotten home from her trip already. I could hear her douche bag of a husband complaining that she was choosing me over him for the night, but she agreed to head over right away, yelling at him for being an insensitive jackass before hanging up the phone.

When Cali pulled into the driveway, I hadn’t moved from the driver’s seat, still buckled in, my head resting on the steering wheel. Cali opened up the passenger’s side door, smiled sympathetically at my melancholy state and climbed in. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she had already washed all her makeup off. Judging by her sweatpants and glasses, I had pulled her away right as she was getting ready for bed; Cali was not the type to leave the house with her glasses on, or with makeup-less eyes and cheeks.

Shaking a bottle of pink, fruity wine at me, she giggled thoughtfully. “Are we drinking in this smelly old truck or what?”

Her amusement with her half-assed attempt to make me feel better calmed me down enough to look at her and attempt a smirk. “I guess we should go inside. We are going to need more wine than that nasty, sugary shit you drink.” I nudged her playfully and opened up the driver’s side door. With one big sigh, I jumped out of my seat and waited for Cali to join me. She wrapped me up in a huge hug, and then walked me into my house while a few frustrated tears ran down my cheeks.

Once inside, we made a beeline for the kitchen, where Cali jumped on the counter to sit while I opened her bottle of blush wine and my Malbec. As I started to pour our glasses too full to be classy, my best friend cocked her head to the side with a sly grin as she saw our oversized portions close to spilling over the edge. I rolled my eyes playfully, “What? It’s not the night for damn formalities, Cal! Trust me.”

She grasped her glass in both hands, slurped her first sip and giggled, slowly smiling from ear to ear. “Elena must have done a number on you tonight.” She jumped off the counter and hugged me again, while I let myself cry for a moment.

I grimaced, stepped back from Cali, took a huge gulp, and started ranting, pacing back and forth through the kitchen. I was screaming at the top of my lungs, forcing all of the anger out of my body. It was just too much weight to bear. “She just thinks I need to be over Randy already. I don’t get it. She’s my mom. She should be making me comfort food and stroking my hair while I cry for years to come if that’s what it takes. Not criticizing me for missing the love of my life. You know, she even tried to convince me Walker is cute! Can you freaking believe her?” I took another colossal swig of wine and choked a little from trying to swallow it too fast. I cannot wait to numb this whole fucking night away.

“Yuck! Walker is a womanizing dick that probably has ten STDs by now.” Her nose crinkled and I could almost see her cheeks turning green while she thought about how many women Walker had actually hooked up with over the years we had known him. She was right about him sleeping around. Walker had Southern charm about him that could make anyone swoon, and no standards to speak of. Together, it was the perfect combination for a successful man whore.

I chuckled at Cali’s look of disgust and motioned for the living room, making sure to grab both bottles of wine and set them onto the coffee table. I got a couple of blankets out of the linen closet and curled up on the couch with Cali. It was fantastic that she was home, and I was so thankful she was here with me now. For every break up, every horrible fight, even bad test scores, we were always there for each other, no matter what. It was so comforting to know she was in my corner, not judging me in any way at all.

Topping off our glasses quickly, I decided changing the subject was in my best interest. The thought of Walker in that way made me a little uncomfortable, but not in the normal sense of , ‘Gross, Walker’s like a brother and a disgusting man whore’ , but more like, ‘I shouldn’t have so many moments with Walker that give me butterflies,’ and I was definitely not ready to admit that to Cali. “So tell me about this business trip? Finally find a replacement for Kyle?”

Cali shoved me playfully, while flipping through the channels to find us a girly movie to watch, a look of playful shock spread across her lips. “You know I love him! He’s better than you think!” She turned to me, her smile fading into frustration. “And work is shitty like always. Just full of boring meetings about new lines we want to sell next year and lonely nights in the hotel.”

Cali was the chief sales agent for an importer that could never make enough money. Needless to say, her boss worked her to the bone. I had always told her she could make more money with fewer headaches at another firm, but Cali was loyal, sometimes too loyal. It was one of her best qualities.

She sighed at the TV; still channel surfing. “My shit is boring. What happened while I was away? Anything exciting?” Cali’s cheeks were already starting to turn a cute pink from her wine that probably tasted like Skittles; she had always been a lightweight.