Everything’s the same. The hardwood floors, the wall of randomart behind the seventy-inch TV. Leather’s still ripping off the couch and there’s too many plants.
“I would’ve cleaned up if I knew you were coming,” she squeezes past me and picks up a couple ofTatay’ssocks. “He still leaves them around,” she’s chuckling almost psychotically. She’s vibrating with giddiness. Sheyeetsthe socks somewhere behind her then leads me to the couches. “Have a seat, I’ll go make us tea.”
Our kitchen has always been small but seeing Ma’s small frame in it somehow turns it smaller. Her hair is at her ears. Wrinkles drag her cheeks down, but she isn’t old to the point of unrecognizable. Her and Nadine have the same mole on their cheek. Rosa and Ma share the same smile. But her and I? People have always told us we looked alike.Maybe that’s why it hurt more.
She drums her fingers along the counters, playing with tea sachets, catches me staring and warmly smiles.
I wish she’d ask me why I’m here.
“Where’sTatay?” I ask to give silence company.
“Somewhere,” she hums under her breath. “Your dad is always doing the most around here.” She pours the hot water in two cups. “Yesterday, he told Niamh—our next-door neighbour’s dog—to shut it or he was going to get a rooster just to spite her.”
“Wouldn’t she just… eat it?” I take the cup from her. She settles down next to me like we’ve done this a hundred times before.
“That’s what I said to him,” she blows on the water. “But he didn’t listen. I’m pretty sure Niamh’s pregnant.”
“Is she?”
“Dunno, want me to ask?” She’ll genuinely go out there and ask our neighbour.
I shake my head.
“Nadine’s far along, isn’t she?” Ma squints her eyes when a brightsunray shines through the window.
“She is.” I take a scolding sip of the tea, burning my tongue.Chamomile.
Mothers know exactly how to make their children talk.
“Why aren’t you asking me?” I put the cup on the broken coffee table.
She turns to study me. “If I did, you’d find a reason to run away.”
“That isn’t true.”
She gives me a look.
“Okay, it’s a little true.”
“Baby, this is your home. I don’t need to ask why you’re here.”
I have to look away from her comforting eyes.
“How do you know I belong when you’ve never noticed me?”
She does a double take, lining her cup with mine. “Is that what you think?”
It takes effort, but I nod.
“Nova, depression didn’t make me forget you.” She grabs my hand and pulls me closer to her. “You are my baby. My last born. Sometimes I can still feel the moment I pushed you out. I wanted to hide you back in my womb because you were tinier than Rosa and Nadine. Your big eyes stared up at me before you burst out crying.”
It’d be easier putting my heart in a shredder.
“Come here,” she easily pulls me into her arms, and I don’t fight it. I’m done fighting myself about this. “Did you know your father and I have been watchingLove? Check!since season one? We screamed when we saw you on the third season. He screenshotted your face. It’s his lock screen now.”
I dig myself deeper in her warmth.
“You’ve done your best to hate us, Nova. I know you have. But I don’t want you to hate anymore. Your father and I have mademistakes—me more than him. I abandoned you when you needed me the most. By the time I was ready, it was too late. You were old enough to have opinions, talk back, and leave home.”
