Yeah, probably.

Anyway, I woke up peacefully enough, but then I started to remember her.

A warm May Mother's Day. I'm making a cheese omelette for myself because it's the only thing in the fridge right now. Then I realize what day it is. She's sleeping upstairs after after he overnight shift and would be hungry, so why not make her the meal? I can snack on other things.

Things aren't well between us, but she's still helped me in important ways. I finish the omelette and toast and set them on the table. I pratice a short thank you speech in my head a few times. I don't start my Summer job yet, so I can't buy groceries or a better gift, yet.

She gets up shortly after and comes down stairs.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mom," I make sure to sound happy. I want to be happy and I want to show it. Waking up to a cooked meal is awesome! "I made you something to wake up to."

"Oooo, tank you!" she exclaims in that cute, higher-pitched tone. It was one of the few things I really loved about her. "Smells good." She walks over to the kitchen to get a fork. Her night gown is a short dress with my art on it. She bought it from my online shop to support me and it meant a lot.

"Can I hug you after?"

".. Okay. Yeah."

"Yaaay!"

I'm not really into it, considering other recent situations, but hey, we can take a day to put that aside. Sure, she didn't do that last year, but I promised that I wouldn't spend a whole day like last year, so a hug couldn't hurt.

I take a deep breath. Okay, here goes.

"Mom, I want to thank you for giving me a place to stay for the last three years and helping me get back on my feet. I really appreciate it."

"Thank me for being your mother," she snaps back without a pause. There's her other unique tone, her cold edge command. It leaves me frozen as she walks by, sits down, and begins digging into the first-mine-but-now-her-food.

I look at her. I look at the food. I contemplate taking it from her and eating it myself, since I'm hungry. We really shouldn't be rewarding that behaviour.

I look at the door. So many times, I've pictured walking out that door... and falling into a ditch, dying of starvation and homelessness.

I turn around and walk down the stairs to the basement, making sure not to stomp. My computer is there and turning on some music can help. Then I notice that I forgot to take my dishes from this morning up to wash them.

Duuuuude, don't do it! - Red

It would just take a minute. I head back up to the kitchen and begin washing them. Then I feel her arms around me.

"Thank you." Her cutsy tone is back and I will my muscles to relax.

A few seconds pass and the hugs not stopping. I try to give her a couple gentle pats and then she lets go.

Lyndsey - Let's call her that - then walks back to the dining/livingroom to watch TV before she has to get ready for her shift tonight.

I walk back downstairs and make another promise to myself. That's that I'm never celebrating another Mother's Day with her ever again. Not after today and not after last year, where she made passive-aggressive comments about a fight we had a few weeks before that Mother's Day.

No more treats for you, Bitch.

Speaking of treats, I have that last mini log cake in the fridge to celebrate the last day of Yuletide. I'm hungry now, so I'll include that in today's breakfast. She can't take that, still stuck in another county and whatnot.