Ties That Bind

“What time is it?” I asked Mandy.

She chuckled. “2:03. Exactly three minutes since you asked me this same question.”

I stopped wringing my hands and let myself slump to the couch from my initial pacing. However, my heart was by no means steady. What was keeping her?

Knowing that I wasn’t going to stop worrying, Mandy began a feeble attempt to calm my nerves. “She’s going to come, Stella. She promised that she would be here and she would. You just need to hold on. For all we know she might be stuck in traffic or something.”

“That’s if the “or something” isn’t her bailing on me for the millionth time,” I grumbled under my breath but Mandy, of course, caught it.

“Estella,” she called out, placating. But I’d already let my mind drift off. Lord knew that I’d given up hoping to see the woman who gave birth to me. She had abandoned me to her elder sister the moment I was born and left me at the doorstep of her elder sister who had been eight months pregnant for Mandy at the time.

All she’d left was a crying baby in a carton with a diary beside it bearing the name she wanted me to be called and fled to another country. And for nineteen years, my Aunt Corinthia, who I called Mom had raised me as her daughter and Mandy as my sister. I’d never asked to know my real Mom since my Aunt had given me everything I would ever need. I wouldn’t have thought to ever meet her if Aunt hadn’t put in my head that my Mom was back in the country and wanted to see me.

I’d received postcards and letters on her life. I knew she had married and even had two other kids from the marriage. What then did she want with me? And every weekend that she promised she would be coming, I’d stand by the balcony and wait for her. Weeks of doing that turned into months and she never came. I’d raged at my Aunt for the first time when she told me to be patient.

“How long do you want me to wait, Mom? I never asked for this. I was content with how things were till you put her whole coming in my head. I’d be okay if I knew she was never coming than to have her mess with my emotions like this. It hurts so much. Too much.” My voice had broken at the last part and I fell into a fit of sobs.

Aunt Corinthia, overwhelmed with guilt at my pain, held me. “I’m sorry, Estella. You don’t deserve this. But I’ll say this, let’s wait one more weekend. And if my sister isn’t here, you’re free to wash your hands off the matter. I will too.”

And so, here I was. Waiting. For what was going to be the last time. Suddenly, I was interrupted from my reminisces with Mandy’s alarmed tone.

“Are you sure?” She said to the person at the other end. She looked at me and brought her eyes down immediately. “Okay, I’ll let her know.”

As she dropped the phone, I looked intently at her and knew even without her saying a word. “She’s not coming right?”

“I’m so sorry, Stella. She said something came up.”

I chuckled mirthlessly. “Something came up. Every time, something comes up.” I wiped furiously at the tears already rolling involuntarily down my cheeks. She wasn’t worth my tears. And it would be the last time she made me cry like this.

“I wish I could do something for you,” Mandy said with a strangled voice. I knew she was trying to stay strong for me and her efforts made me smile. I went to her and hugged her. “You’ve done enough. You and Mom. You’re all the family I’ll ever need.”

I detangled myself with that said and went slowly to my room. Overcome with the spent emotions, I fell into a dreamless slumber.

I woke up to muffled voices. I sat up slowly and cleaned my eyes with my hands, trying to make sense of my environment. Something I did every single time I woke up.

“Is she there?” Someone whispered from beyond my closed door.

“Yeah, go in,” replied a voice I recognized to be Aunt Corinthia’s. My heart constricted as I held my breath.

Could it be?

My breath caught in my throat as the door promptly opened to reveal a woman with my Aunt standing a few feet away. I looked from my Aunt to the woman in front of me, both with tears brimming in their eyes. I didn’t dare say a word and couldn’t bring myself to move as well. I didn’t need a gypsy to let me know that the woman in front of me was my Mom. I was the spitting image of her, redhead, light-skinned, siren eyes. She was the regal, more refined version of what I was presently.

My mom was in front of me.

Finally.

“My Estella....” she called to me in a voice that was as smooth as I always dreamt it to be.

“Mother,” I replied in a croaky voice. My Mom was finally in front of me. And now I didn’t know what to do. I’d replayed this moment a thousand times in the past. Of what it would be like to meet her. Now she was here and I didn’t know what to do. And so slowly I stood up and made the first steps to her. Then, I stopped.

She was my Mom so I guess she somehow figured that I wasn’t going to move any more than that. And so she crossed the remaining steps and took my hands that were stiff beside me. For the first time, I was holding my Mom’s hands. And it was the final straw, for I broke down and began to weep.

I wept and wept in my Mother’s arms while she held me and cried alongside me. Too much was between us. Far too many things. But we were going to work it out. One step at a time.

Jhymi🖤

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