How did I recognize her you ask. Because she came back one other time. Where do you think Georgie came from? Another mistake. But so am I. Dad says we are blessings in his life. Lately Dad hasn't been looking too good. He works the night shift and sleeps most days. He's been up when Georgie and I get home.
"You should be sleeping more," I tell him. He nods, runs his hands through his hair then somehow moves and a cup of hot cocoa's in his hand. He loves cocoa. He says that's the strongest drink he needs.
But we weren't talking about Dad, were we?
We were talking about how mother ruined a good thing AGAIN.
I saw her slouch up to us as we ate. I knew the moment I saw her who she was. She smiled and waved awkwardly. Which she should. She hasn't seen us since Georgie was born.
"Hi, girls," she says like she just walked out of a store we were all shopping together in.
Georgie just stares at her. Mother ignores her. Convenient.
"What do you want?" I almost snarl. I say almost because I can't let myself be mean to someone I've yearned to be around all my life.
"I just wanted to talk. Is that a crime?" she scowls at me then flips her crinkly blond hair over her shoulder. She takes out a cigarette. She looked around and her eyes seemed to focus for the first time. She made acquintance with our friend. Than, thankfully, she put the cig away.
What was she thinking coming here? The question rolled around and around in my head.
"I just wanted to see you girls," she answered my unspoken question. Part of it anyway.
I peeked at Georgie. She was still staring at mother.
"How's your dad?"
"Fine," Georgie whispered.
"That's good."
This is another trait I remember about my mother. Small talk. She's good at talking a