I’m still not over it…
I pulled my emergency drawer open and took out a lighter. I held our picture over the garbage can and set it afire. I ripped all of our “friends forever” photos off the wall, tore them to pieces, and tossed the bits into the trash.
I took my time climbing down the ladder and wandered across the front yard. I approached the front door and smelled the familiar scent of my mom’s signature cookies: Red velvet fluffs with chocolate chips. Cinnamon swirls with macadamia nuts. Peanut butter pecans with caramel drops.
I noticed our family cat Tina eyeing me from the garden bench, moving her furry little head with every step I took. She wasn’t a tiny gray kitten anymore; she was a plump and husky cat.
“Tinaaa! You’ve gotten so big! Come here Tina,” I patted my thighs and clapped softly. “Come to Selenaaa!”
She jumped down from the bench and slowly sauntered over. Once she was two feet away, she hissed at me and ran away.
I sighed.
I was convinced my mother still kept her door open on Sundays, the “family dinner days,” so I didn’t ring the doorbell. I pushed the door open as slowly as possible and slipped inside.
Right in front of me, on the very first wall, were pictures of every magazine cover I’d ever posed for, every movie I’d ever starred in, and every image of me receiving an award—Emmy, SAG, People’s Choice—perfectly fitted into its own silver frame.
On a large board to my left were numerous newspaper and magazine articles—each one labeled by the publication’s name and date.
I ran my fingers across the pages and felt tears trickling down my face. I couldn’t believe my mother had kept up with everything I’d done. I thought she’d disowned me like I’d disowned her.
I heard bouts of laughter coming from the kitchen and wiped my face before heading in that direction.
You can do this…You can do this…Don’t cry…
I turned the corner and saw that my entire family—mother, aunts, uncles, and cousins—was invested in a loud game of Monopoly. They were harassing my mom about her banking skills and teasing my uncle about being sent “directly to jail.”
“Hello everyone,” I whispered.
They didn’t hear me. They didn’t even notice me.
They were now debating the illegal purchase of Vermont Avenue. They looked like they were having so much fun, like they didn’t have a care in the world.
I can’t do this. I can’t face them right now… Screw Joan, I don’t care if she leaves! I’m out of here!
I stepped backwards very slowly, praying that none of them would randomly look up in my direction. Just as I was about to move into the front hallway, I lost my balance and tripped over something fuzzy—Tina.
She let out an ear-piercing screech and scratched me before angrily dashing away.
I tried to gather myself as quickly as I could, to bolt out of the house before my family could look to see where that agonizing squeal had come from, but it was no use.
The room had already become silent and everyone in my family was scowling at me.
“Um… Sorry about that… Hello everyone,” I barely managed. “It’s good to see you all…”
Silence.
My oldest cousin Kate stood up. “Well, look what the cat coughed up! It’s Selena Ross! I don’t think I feel like having fun anymore.”
She walked past me, purposely bumping my shoulder, and slammed the door on her way out.
The rest of my family stood up one by one and walked outside to join her, purposely slamming the door after each exit.
Only my mother stayed.
She looked the same way she did four years ago. Her wavy black hair was in a messy bun atop her head, her stone gray eyes still possessed their see-through-your-soul powers, and she still looked hurt.
She stared at me a long time before saying, “Why are you here Selena? Did New York get dull all of sudden? Or are you hiding from that man’s wife?”
So she knows…
“I’m…I’m here to reconnect with you,” I held back tears. “I decided I needed to come back home for a while…”
“Right…” she walked into the living room and sat on the couch.
I followed and sat in the chair across from her. “I’m sorry I haven’t called in a while… I—”
“In four years?” she glared at me. “You haven’t called me in four years!”
“I’m–”
“You didn’t even think to send me an invitation to your wedding! I had to read about it! I had to watch it weeks later on TV!” she screamed.
“Ma, I’m—”
“And I was thrilled to see that actress portraying me on E True Hollywood Story! Brilliant, Selena! Brilliant! And since when is your last name Ross? Beauregard wasn’t good enough?”
“It’s not that. It was—”
“I called you every day for a year! A year!” her voice was wavering, but it was getting louder and louder. “And you didn’t return one phone call! Not a one! You didn’t even think to call me on your own!”
“I—”
“Why couldn’t you call me once? Just once! My birthday? Mother’s Day? Hell, I would’ve settled for St. Patrick’s Day!”
“I wanted to call you, I swear…I was just so angry...I was tired of you putting Sweet Seasons ahead of me and—”