Tied

“Not at all.” I force a smile onto my face, resuming the mask. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I take my presents upstairs and change into jeans, a sweater, and boots. As I’m leaving my room, the sound of my mother in her bedroom across the hall catches my attention. Mustering up courage, I nervously run my fingers through my hair and cross the hall to knock on her bedroom door.

“Come in.”

A look of surprise crosses her face when I enter the room and close the door behind me. I watch her as she lays outfits out on her bed for evaluation. “Holly…do you like the presents we got you? You’re so hard to buy for. We can exchange anything you don’t like.”

“I loved everything. Thank you.” I now have more clothes than I ever thought possible. Zac and Anna gave me two new books, a candle, and a coffee mug that changes color with temperature, which I thought was fascinating. I’ve never seen anything like it and can’t wait to use it.

“Mom…” I say hesitantly. “Did I do something wrong?”

She looks up from the four outfits on her bedspread with a distracted frown. “What? Why on earth would you ask that?”

I lean against her dresser and clasp my hands in front of me. “It’s just…every time I try to spend time with Lizzie, you jump in and stop it. It’s been going on for months. It confuses her. And to be honest, it’s confusing for me, too. She’s my sister. I’m trying to get to know her.”

Her lips close into a thin line, and silent admission is all over her face.

“Why?” I urge. “I’m not contagious.”

“Holly, don’t be ridiculous. Lizzie is just a little girl…and she doesn’t really know you. She’s very vulnerable and innocent.” Her chin lifts slightly. “I don’t want her to know any details about your past. I’ve tried very hard to protect her from all of it. She’d be petrified if she knew the truth.”

I remember being petrified. I remember it very well. And I was also just a little innocent girl. “Details?” I repeat, coldly. “Do you think I’m going to tell my seven-year-old sister I was starved and raped, Mom? Do you think I’m going to tell her how I was kept locked in an old dirty room for half my life?”

Her hand goes to her neck, fingering the gold cross necklace she wears every day. “Keep your voice down, please,” she says, but there’s a manic edge to her voice. “Everyone is right downstairs. They don’t need to hear such awful things.”

“I would never tell her those things. But she is my little sister, and she is curious. Eventually, she’s going to ask questions. What am I supposed to say? I wasn’t on vacation.” I swallow hard over the anger that’s slowly building up in me. “You told her I was dead. Do you want her thinking dead people come back to life? That’s just as scary as what really did happen to me.”

She looks away, still fingering her cross necklace. Maybe she’s praying for this topic to end. “Honestly, I don’t know what to tell her,” she says, her voice harsh. “I have no idea how to explain this to a child. Nobody should ever have to have such conversations.”

I take a moment and stare at the woman who gave birth to me twenty years ago today. Her jaw is tight, and she holds her body rigid, almost defensively. From me? My words? What? I wish I understood her. I wish she’d talk to me like a real person and not like I’m some kind of stranger who just happens to stay in her home occasionally.

“She should have been at the family therapy sessions,” I say as calmly as I can. “That’s what those were for, to help us become a family again. Because it wasn’t just me that needed therapy, Mom, it was all of us. Just because Lizzie came into your life after I was gone, doesn’t mean I’m not part of her family.”

“You’re right.” She walks to her dresser and randomly opens and closes drawers, not taking anything out. “It’s just a very difficult situation, and it was all very unexpected, devastating, and confusing for everyone.”

“Because you never expected me to come back. I feel like I…” I grapple for the right words, sensing my mother is becoming more and more uncomfortable. “I feel like me coming back was a disruption, especially for you. Like I ruined your perfect life. I feel like I ruined it by being taken, and then I ruined it again coming back.”

Her mouth falls open, and I feel bad for making her feel cornered. I really do. But I don’t know how to live in this awkward space. I want to get out of it.

“That is not true.” She licks her lips nervously. “And I’m very hurt you would even think that.”

I take a deep breath, arming myself emotionally for what I’m going to ask her. “Did you know where Poppy’s been for the past year? Because I know he’s with Tyler Grace.” Her face lights with surprise and then annoyance at the mention of his name. She fingers a blouse on the bed. “I found him, Mom. Entirely by accident and coincidence, but I found him. Or should I say them, since you knew I was looking for both of them.”

She doesn’t say a word. She just stares at me, this stranger who is my mother. I held hard to the memories I had of her while I was gone, not wanting to ever forget her. I could remember her hugging me, singing to me, rocking me to sleep when I was sick, and setting me on the stool in the kitchen so I could stir cookie batter. I was a mommy’s girl, and I loved every moment with her. When did she become so mean and uncaring? Did my disappearance do this? Or my reappearance?

“You have no idea how much that dog meant to me and what I had to do to keep him safe…” Tears slide down my cheeks, the memories assaulting me, but she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “I can’t believe you kept him from me.”

“And that is exactly why, Holly. He’s a reminder of what you went through, and you need to put all that ugliness behind you.” Her voice starts to waver with emotion beneath the anger. “That evil man gave you that dog to manipulate you. The dog was a pawn, not a pet. Do you not see that?”

“I don’t care why he was given to me,” I protest. “All I care about is I love him and he’s the only friend or family I had. Did you know Tyler has had him the whole time? Did you lie to me about Poppy living with a family? Just to shut me up?”

Her face is stoic and unreadable. “The dog was the least of my worries, Holly. I was trying to deal with a daughter who had been kidnapped and horribly abused in every way imaginable. I just wanted you to focus on getting better, and not clinging to a mangy dog and a filthy bag of books. I didn’t know that savage had him.”

I cringe at her choice of words. “He’s not a savage. And it’s not okay to tell lies.”

“You’re right,” she says softly. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I thought I was doing the right thing. You have to understand I’m new at this too, Holly. I’ve never been through anything like this. I know I haven’t handled any of this in a good way. Not back then, and not now. I…I just can’t think about it or talk about it. I want it all just gone.”

“For it all to be gone, I would have to be gone,” I whisper, pain clenching my heart like a tight fist. “Is that what you want?”

Her chest heaves up and down beneath her robe and, for a second, she looks like she’s going to faint, but she recovers quickly. “Please, Holly. It’s Christmas Day, and it’s your birthday. Now is not the day to be talking about such horrible things and getting upset. I promise we can talk about all of this on another day. I promise I’ll be better. Everything will get better, you’ll see. I don’t want you gone. That’s a terrible thing to say. I love you. I just need time to sort it out.” Although she smiles hopefully, her eyes are begging me to drop this conversation.

As Feather would say, my mom can’t deal. It’s taken me a long time to build up the courage to confront her. I would rather just continue to talk about it now, but I suppose she’s right that now is not the best time. “All right.” I agree reluctantly.

Relieved, she steps closer and pulls me in for a quick hug. “I’m sorry this is all so confusing for everyone. I really am. I know I haven’t been the best mother to you. We’ll work on fixing it, okay? We just need time. That’s all.” She holds me at arm’s length and looks into my eyes. “I want you to be happy, please believe that.”

Returning the smile, I slowly disengage from her embrace, not quite knowing what to believe. She and my father are so distant, barely part of my life at all. I can’t help but wonder how much of it is from being busy with their lives and jobs and how much of it is because I just make them too uncomfortable.

The quiet of my bedroom is a welcome haven that night, even if it’s in a house that feels not at all like home to me. My mind is filled with so many different emotions from the day that I’m not even sure what I’m feeling, other than purely exhausted, mentally and physically. Spending time with my grandmother earlier cheered me up after the talk with my mother, but I still feel an odd emptiness inside, like something big is missing but I have no idea what it is. Before changing into the clothes I sleep in, I peer out the window, searching for any new footprints or signs of Tyler, still curious as to how he got to my window and secretly hoping he’ll come back.