Cara

 

I looked at the clock and thought I was doing okay. My shift didn't start until eight, so I had a little more than an hour until I had to be at the hospital. I figured that I could relax, enjoy a cup of coffee, and give Austin his breakfast. My babysitter Mandy would be there any minute, so I felt like I was ahead of the game.

 

“Austin, honey, are you ready for breakfast?”

 

I smiled as I listened to his little feet padding down the hallway. He burst into the kitchen with a giggle, and I scooped him up and set him down in his chair. I kissed the top of his head and put a bowl of oatmeal down in front of him.

 

He looked up at me and smiled, which made my heart flutter. That little boy was the light of my life. He was my world and was the only fond memory I had of my ex. Austin was the only good thing to come out of that failed, miserable relationship.

 

“Mama, you have cereal too?”

 

I smiled at my little boy and raised my cup. “I've got my breakfast right here.”

 

Austin giggled and spooned some oatmeal into his mouth.

 

“You know, they say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” came a voice from the kitchen doorway. “I don't think coffee qualifies as food.”

 

I turned to Mandy and smiled. “Coffee is one of the essential food groups, thank you very much.”

 

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's not.”

 

Mandy walked into the kitchen and dropped her bag onto the counter before leaning over and giving Austin a kiss on the head.

 

“Good morning, little man,” she said.

 

Austin wiped away her kiss and made a disgusted noise. But when Mandy stuck out her bottom lip and pretended to pout, he giggled and smiled wide. I watched the two of them and couldn't help but smile. She was so good with my son, and they had a great relationship. I'd lucked out finding somebody like Mandy to watch over him while I was working. Especially because she was so flexible given my usually crazy hours at the hospital.

 

It wasn't an ideal situation I was living in – single motherhood was a tough gig. But I had to admit that things weren't half bad. They certainly could have turned out a lot worse. And when a knock sounded on my front door, I was reminded of that fact.

 

“Who'd be coming by so early?” Mandy asked.

 

I sighed, already knowing who was on the other side of the door. It couldn't be anybody but her.

 

“Can you make sure to keep Austin in here?” I asked. “It's – her. Again.”

 

Mandy nodded. She was well versed in standard protocols whenever she came by. The protocol being – keep Austin away from her. She wasn't allowed to see my son. Ever. Under any circumstances. She belonged to a world I didn't want Austin being exposed to. Didn't want him even getting a whiff of.

 

Setting my coffee mug down, I steeled my nerves and walked out to the front room. It wasn't a confrontation I was looking forward to having – let alone at seven in the goddamn morning. Pausing with my hand on the doorknob, I took a deep breath and let it out before opening it just enough to block the doorway with my body.

 

“It's a little early isn't it, Grace?”

 

She looked at me and smiled with a mouth that had even fewer teeth in it than the last time I saw her – and she hadn't had many then. Her skin was a jaundiced yellow, her once red hair was streaked heavily with gray, her eyes had a dull sheen yet crazed look about them, and her skin was pockmarked badly enough that she looked like a topographical map. Her clothes were dirty, she smelled, and it looked like she hadn't slept or eaten in days.

 

To say that she was a hot mess would have been the understatement of the century.

 

“It hurts my feelings that you don't call me Mom,” she pouted. “I'm still your mom, Cara.”

 

I shrugged. “You stopped being that a long time ago… If you ever really were.”

 

“I gave birth to you,” she said, sounding almost offended.

 

“And then you tried to sell me for drugs,” I replied. “And when you couldn't do that, you gave me about the shittiest childhood on record. So yeah, thanks for that – Grace.”

 

Her eyes welled with tears, and her lower lip trembled. “I–I know I haven't been a good mother to you, Cara. And I want to try to make amends. I really do. I want to get clean. Get my life in order. I want to make up for it. And I want to be a good grandmother to Austin. Can I see him?”

 

“Not a chance.”

 

“Please, Cara,” she whined. “I'm serious about getting myself right this time.”

 

It was a sob story I'd heard a million times already. Grace was always planning on getting her life together. Intending to do it. Taking steps in that direction. And yet, it never ever seemed to come to fruition. Ever. I gave up hoping it would years ago, and in that time, had learned to harden my heart and temper my expectations.

 

It seemed cold and callous, but it was the only way I could deal with my mother. I couldn't expect anything from her. I didn't expect anything from her. It kept me sane, and it kept me from flying into a fit of rage every time she screwed up – which was a lot.

 

And I didn't want to drag my son into this. I didn't want to introduce him to his grandmother, have her become a part of his life, and then have her disappear whenever she was out on one of her benders. And I sure as hell wasn't about to have her around my son when she was loaded. No way in hell that was happening.

 

Both of my parents had been caught up in drugs for all of my life. Which made life a living hell. More times than not, money for food or rent got smoked up, snorted, or shot into their veins. I couldn't count the number of apartments we'd been evicted from or the nights I went without food. Hell, I don't think I got my first real birthday present until I was thirteen – and that was from the mother of a friend of mine.

 

My parents and their addiction were well known around town. Most people wrote us all off as trash, but some people took pity on me. When things were bad, and they were completely strung out or beating on one another, friends and neighbors took me in. Gave me food. Gave me a safe place and some peace.

 

“Grace, this is the same song and dance you've been spinning for more years than I can count,” I said. “It gets old.”

 

Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the dirt caked on her face. “How can you be so cold, Cara? To your own mother?”

 

“It's called self-preservation. I've gotten quite good at it, thanks to you.”

 

She sniffed and shook her head, looking at me with wide, sorrowful eyes, putting on quite a show of contrition. Grace was pulling out all the stops this morning.

 

“I know I've wronged you, Cara, but I—”

 

“Cut the shit, Grace,” I snapped. “What do you want?”

 

She looked at me as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “I–I just wanted to see my grandson.”

 

“Bullshit,” I said flatly. “Not at seven in the morning you didn't. What do you really want? What's your real agenda here?”

 

“I have no agenda,” she said, putting on that offended tone again.

 

I knew why my mother was there. It was the same reason she always showed up – she needed money. We did this song and dance every time she turned up here. It was bad enough that I considered moving more than a few times already just so she wouldn't know where I lived.

 

But for a while, even though I wouldn't let her into my house, I would give her whatever cash I happened to have on hand. Seeing her in the condition she was in made the guilt wash over me like a tsunami, drowning me. It took years for me to work up the courage to finally say no. And when I did, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of my shoulders and the sense of relief was palpable.

 

And it got easier to say no each and every time I had to say it – which was quite often. It's not that I didn't feel for her situation. I wasn't a completely heartless bitch. But I knew that by continuing to give her money, I was only feeding her addiction, giving her access to more drugs, and giving her no reason to actually change her life. It took many years – and plenty of therapy – to realize that I wasn't helping her. I was only keeping her from hitting rock bottom – which was exactly where she needed to be. She wasn't going to clean up her act if she didn't have to.

 

But because I'd fed that addiction once, just like a stray cat, she kept turning up on my porch, hoping for a little more.

 

“I don't have the time or inclination to do this dance this morning, Grace,” I said and sighed. “No, I don't have any money to give you. Even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you.”

 

“Why are you so cruel, Cara?” she asked. “Did I raise you to be so cold?”

 

I laughed in her face. “You didn't raise me at all. I was shoplifting by nine just so I could eat. The goddamn cat was more of a mother to me than you ever were.”

 

“I can't believe you're saying such hurtful things, Cara,” she whined.

 

“Yes, you can,” I replied. “It's not like I haven't said these same things to you a hundred times before. You were probably just too loaded to remember.”

 

She held her stomach and looked at me. “I just need a little bit, Cara. I haven't eaten in three days. I'm hungry, Cara. Are you really going to let your own mother starve out here on the street?”

 

I fought it and fought it, but couldn't stop my heartstrings from being pulled. As hardened, jaded, and cynical as I'd become, there was still a heart in me. There was still compassion and empathy in me. And my mother, being the master manipulator that she was, knew just how to play on that.

 

I sighed. “Wait right here.”

 

I shut the door and locked it. Walking into the living room, I grabbed my wallet out of my purse and opened it. I debated about how much to give her – and then mentally kicked myself for even considering it. Instead, I threw my wallet back into my purse, dropped it on the table, and walked into the kitchen.

 

Mandy looked at me with a curious expression, and Austin giggled.

 

“Everything okay?” Mandy asked.

 

“Oh yeah, just peachy.”

 

I opened the refrigerator and started taking out a ton of food. I whipped together half a dozen sandwiches – nothing fancy, just some ham and cheese with mayo. I pulled some small bags of chips out of the cupboard, a couple bottles of water, and then went back to the refrigerator and pulled out a few containers of pudding. I put it all into a large paper bag.

 

“This should do,” I said.

 

“You're doing a lot more than I think I would if I were in your shoes,” Mandy said.

 

“I'm an idiot. And a sucker.”

 

“Nah,” Mandy replied. “You're a good person with a wonderful heart.”

 

“I somehow don't think Grace is gonna see it that way here in a minute.”

 

She laughed. “Then she's the idiot.”

 

I gave her a small smile and then walked back to the front door. Grace was still standing there, chewing on a raggedy nail and looking entirely miserable. Without saying a word, I thrust the bag into her hands.

 

“There,” I said. “Now you can get something into your stomach.”

 

She looked at the bag in her hands and then at me. “I was hoping you could give me a little cash,” she said. “Just so I could get something to eat.”

 

It was like she was ignoring the big bag of food in her hands – or was so cracked out that she didn't see it. Either way, she was pissing me off.

 

“Grace, you said you were hungry,” I snapped. “There's a big bag of food. You can eat that, and you should be just fine.”

 

“Yeah, but I— ”

 

“If you want me to take it back and throw it away I will,” I said. “But I did my good deed for the day and fed you. But I'm not giving you a goddamn dime, Grace. All you're going to do is smoke it or shoot it. And I'm not going to feed your habit.”

 

Anger flashed through her eyes, and she slammed the bag down on the porch at her feet. “Goddammit, Cara!” she shouted. “I am your mother, and you owe me for—”

 

“Yeah, we're done here, Grace,” I said. “You have a nice day.”

 

I slammed the door and locked it. She continued to rant and rave on the other side of the door, punctuating her words by punching the door now and then. She was a real class act. It was increasingly difficult for me to believe I'd actually climbed out of that womb. I had to have been accidentally switched at birth in the hospital. She couldn't be my real mother. My real family had to be out there somewhere searching for me – I just needed to find them.

 

Yeah, if only.

 

I sighed and walked back into the kitchen. Mandy had done a fantastic job of keeping Austin distracted and entertained while the scene with Grace played out. She looked concerned when I came in, so I offered her a weak smile.

 

“Just Grace being Grace,” I said.

 

“Hit you up for money again, huh?”

 

“Does she ever come around for anything else?”

 

Mandy laughed softly. “How did she react to the bag of food?”

 

I shrugged. “About as well as you'd expect a junkie desperately needing a fix to react.”

 

Mandy just shook her head and gave me a sad little smile. “What a waste of a life,” she said. “Giving up time with her daughter and grandson just to chase a high.”

 

“Yeah, the demons have her bad,” I replied.

 

We stood in silence for a few moments as Mandy idly stroked Austin's dark hair, and I finished my coffee. I looked at my watch and realized that because of Grace's unannounced visit, I was going to be late. So much for being ahead of the game.

 

“I have to go to,” I said and looked over at the dishes on the counter. “Just leave all that. I'll get it when I get home.”

 

“Don't worry about it,” she replied. “Just go on to work. Austin and I have everything covered here.”

 

I gave her a smile. “You're the best, Mandy. The absolute best.”

 

“I know,” she said and smiled. “That's why you're giving me a raise.”

 

I laughed and walked out of the kitchen, approaching the front door with trepidation. I wasn’t sure if Grace was still going to be on the other side of it or not. I let out a sigh of relief when I opened the door and found that the front porch was empty – even the bag of food was gone. Which, truth be told, was a relief. I could go to work knowing that at the very least, Grace had gotten to eat.

 

“I'll see you later this afternoon,” I said and grinned back at Mandy. “Oh, and if you see or smell Grace anywhere around the house, call the cops. I'm done playing with her. If she shows up, make sure you have her arrested.”

 

Mandy nodded, though I could tell she was a little reluctant to send a woman so down on her luck to jail. Even though it would be the best thing for Grace. She hadn't hit rock bottom yet and really needed to. And soon. If not, she was likely going to end up dead.

 

I rushed over and planted a kiss on the crown of my son's head. “Be good, baby boy. Do everything Mandy tells you to do, okay?”

 

He giggled at me and smiled. Giving Mandy one last grateful look, I turned and walked out of the house, desperate to avoid being late for my shift – again.