6
On the way home, I blocked Scarlett’s number.
Cutting all ties.
I took a look at my savings, along with the month’s fresh pension deposit, and quickly booked myself a spot in a small travel group. Then, I packed my bags for a much–needed vacation.
For years, I’d been so absorbed in Scarlett’s life, I’d never seen all the beautiful places out there. She always used to say, “When I grow up, graduate, find a job, get married, when the baby’s a little older…” Every time, there was a new excuse.
But now, alone, I could finally see it all.
I toured mountains, went to the ocean, and had a wonderful time chatting with others in the group. One woman, Barb, was especially easy to
talk to.
Barb and I shared a lot in common. She’d spent her whole life tending to her family, hoping her husband and kids would someday take her traveling. Instead, they scolded her, calling her “selfish” for wanting to “run around at her age.”
So she took her savings, blocked their numbers, and went on a solo adventure.
We hit it off immediately, sharing stories and experiences along the way. Before parting, we swapped numbers, promising to travel together
again.
But good times always come with a few bumps.
In our group was a man about a year older than me. His wife had passed, his kids were grown, and he had plenty of grandkids. His life was, by his own account, happy–just “a little lonely” without a woman around.
Learning I’d been divorced for years, he got excited and said he’d be open to “shacking up” together.
I had no interest in him and ignored his hints, but he followed me all the way to my front door after the trip ended.
When I arrived home, still holding my luggage, there he was, standing at my door with a huge bouquet of red roses.
“Evie, we’re about the same age, both single. Why don’t we make a go of it together? You could manage my money, cook a little, and help with the grandkids now and then. I’m pretty fond of you, you know. I’d take good care of you.”
I took a deep breath.
If I’d been twenty years younger, I’d have whacked him with a broom. But at this age, I worried my back would give out before I got the broom above my head.
So instead, I called Rex, our security guard, and asked him to escort the man away.
“Evie, why so cold? I’m still a good–looking guy, you’d be proud to be seen with me. Don’t you get lonely after all these years?”
Rex was pushing him along, but he kept struggling to stay.
I’d finally had enough, so I picked up my trash bag and tossed it at him.
The ruckus must have been pretty loud because just then Scarlett, who was walking up, saw the whole thing.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” She came over quickly, shocked to see me.
Three months of travel had done me well. I’d gained a few pounds and felt recharged, while Scarlett looked drained and visibly thinner.
9:34 PM D
I didn’t say anything as she sized up the man at the door. Then she turned to me, horrified.
“Mom, aren’t you ashamed? Trying to find a boyfriend at your age?”
Her voice was full of judgment, and she snatched her purse to hit the man, shouting for him to get lost.
“You’re out of your mind, aren’t you? A man like that’s just after your money!” she snapped at me, her eyes full of irritation.
Once he was gone, she glared at me, pointing to the complex behind me.
“So this is why you’ve been dodging my calls, huh? Living it up in a rented place, enjoying yourself?”
She pursed her lips, clearly displeased.
“You’ve left me alone to handle everything. I’ve been working, raising a kid, and scrambling to make it all work. Meanwhile, you’ve been running around with strange men, doing nothing to help. Some mother you turned out to be!”
The bitterness in her voice was clear.
I stared back, unfazed. “Last time we spoke, I told you that if you preferred Vivienne, then you can consider her your mom. I’m done. I don’t owe you anything–not help with your bills, not help with Delilah, not a single thing.”
She seemed to realize I was serious, but still scoffed.
“What do you mean, done being my mother? We’re blood! I’m your daughter! Come back home already–there’s so much to do. You always paid the bills, the utilities, everything! Without you, we’re strapped for cash. It’s your fault we’re struggling!”
I could only laugh at her audacity. Then I slapped her, hard.
“Get out.”
Finally, utterly disappointed, I turned and walked away.
She clutched her face, seething, and shouted after me, “Mom! You’re unbelievable! Just because I told a little truth, you hit me? No wonder Dad left you!”
That made me stop in my tracks.
I turned to see her standing there with a smug look, expecting me to cave.
I picked up another trash bag and tossed it right at her.
“Scarlett, when your father left, it was his fault. He was a fool. But you? His own blood, and he still left you behind. If you’re looking for a fool, try looking in the mirror.”
Maybe, once, I’d never have believed I could feel this way about my own child.
But sometimes, you’ve got to cut off a piece of yourself if it’s poisoning the rest.
Scarlett was that piece, and I’d finally cut her off.
As I walked away, she stomped her foot, trying to follow me, but her phone rang. She answered it, and I heard her exclaim, “What? Our house is on fire?”
She ran off in a panic, leaving me in peace.
And the woman who came with him followed and ran outside.
While running, she shouted, “Ms. Drake, are you still looking at houses today?”
