I never thought that the day would come; that day where I felt older than I already was. I watched my mother frantically loading the car with all of our stuff through my bedroom window. She had not slept a wink these past few days and neither did I. She said that we had to get away, away from our home for a little while. I knew what that meant. My stepfather was divorcing her. I saw it coming. I just did not think it would come this soon.
I could not bear seeing my mother so helpless and without a plan but to run away, I had never seen her helpless before in fact, and it scared me a lot. She kept on dropping items on the floor next to her car; she would pick them up very frustrated before tossing them into the boot of our car, her beloved Mercedes Benz. I watched a gentle wind blowing against her frail figure, attaching her brown floral chiffon dress to one side of it. She had tears in her eyes, the kinds that run down from your eyes unintentionally. They had draped softly around her cheeks. She had had this face of distress for over a month now.
“Reba!” she yelled. “Let’s go, now!”
I knew what that meant; she always yelled out my name when she was agitated. I felt uneasy travelling in a car with her driving because she was not thinking straight; she could cause an accident. I grabbed my bag from the top of my bed and said my last goodbye to my lifeless room. It no longer had posters on the wall and on my wardrobe. The floor was free of all my shoes and clothes; I knew that we were never coming back; I was never going to see my stepfather again. I slammed the door behind me to face my new fresh start again.
I threw my last bag into the back seat before slumping into the front. My mother threw on her sunglasses and started to reverse the car.
“Don’t worry my baby, we will be fine I promise,” my mother said while driving off.
I do not think she understood that I was old enough to understand what was going on. My mother had no job because she devoted her time to being a housewife for five years while my stepfather jetted off to other countries to see paradise. It was business, my mother believed him.
It had been almost three hours on the road and I was starting to feel blisters on my butt. We were going to my grandmother’s place. Of all the places my mother chose to stay, it had to be five hours away from her mothers, even though my stepfather barely stayed where we lived. He was an “international corporate events planner”, I don’t know what that means but that is what he told me.
“Can we stop mom, I want something to eat,” I finally broke the silence.
“Reba, we are not stopping. How many times did I tell you to get something to eat before we left?” she replied with her voice building up.
“But mom I’m tired, can’t we at least stop for five minutes?”
“Reba!” she paused. “I said no, you will eat something when we arrive.”
I was getting frustrated because she was taking out her emotions on me, it was not fair.
“Why is my stepfather divorcing you?” I hit back, it was the anger talking.
My mother did not reply. She just carried on driving, pressing on the accelerator.
“Mom, I know we are never going back, so you might as well tell me why he is divorcing you. I am almost seventeen, I can take it.”
I rested my head on my seat almost regretting my sudden outburst. I was angry too. I had finally found stability with our new family arrangement living with my stepfather. He treated me like his own daughter and I loved him. I was angry because I was part of the break up; a break up with my father figure. I knew it was not fair to talk to my mother the way I did. She was going through a lot and being difficult was making it worse. I was there the whole time my stepfather was not there for her while he was at work; he is the one to blame. He did not even have the courtesy to come home and break it off like a real man. We had not seen him for two months now.
My mother finally pulled over at a petrol station and ordered me to a restaurant in the complex. She walked ahead of me the whole time. We found a table next to the entrance.
“So what would you like to eat Reba? You can order anything you want, even dessert,” my mother said behind her sunglasses. She did not want to expose her puffy eyes.
“Mom I’m sorry about what I said in the car,” I said. There was a brief pause.
“Your stepfather is not divorcing me, I’m leaving him.” I leaned back on my seat, “It has been two months Reba, two months; and I don’t even know which country he went to because he doesn’t tell me. He does not answer my calls or have the decency to tell me when he’ll be back or where he is, I’m tired of living in a relationship alone, waiting for a man who won’t give me the attention I deserve. I have you my baby; I don’t need him or his money! He can keep it for all I care and spoil his new younger girlfriend with it, but I’m done,” she confessed bringing up a tissue to wipe her face which was already drowning in tears; the sunglasses were not doing a very good job.
I squeezed her hand in support. Her phone rang and she jumped for it. My mother did not like having personal conversations with me because culture does not allow a child to be involved with adult business.
“Yes?” she answered.
I watched her listening to the voice on the other side of the phone, her facial expression distant. I was not hungry anymore, I wanted to leave and arrive at my grandmother’s. She finally hung up.
“Those were the authorities,” she finally whispered, her voice was on the brink of choking on tears.
“What’s wrong mom?”
“Your s-stepfather; they finally identified his body. He was in China and there was an earthquake and his hotel collapsed and his dead,” my eyes widened. “And I’m here leaving him.” She broke out as I was expecting.
I felt numb all over. The whole restaurant was staring at my helpless mother while she cried. I squeezed her hand even tighter, I was preparing myself mentally for the future, the fresh drama in my new life.
