Meeting the Mother

The house immediately opens up into the kitchen, so I am greeted by a waft of warm air carrying the faint smell of the dinner that my mother and I had eaten earlier. The faint light of the candles shadows a flickering figure on the wall, dancing in and out of the darkness around it. I kick off my boots and shove them into the hallway closet to my left, my keys still in hand. I turn towards the large wooden table. Three candles stand alone on the table top, the wax dripping onto the candlesticks. There is a small pool of wax from the middle candle that has dripped onto the table. I walk over to the mess and pick away the already dried wax. I place the pieces of wax in the trash bin beside the sink and then shove my keys back into my bag. Unclipping my belt, I lean it across a chair and look up to see my mother in the doorway leading to the living room.

“You were out late.” She says. Her eyebrows are drawn together, her mouth set into a deep frown. During dinner, my mother had been in one of her moods. She had counted out each pea on her plate to make sure that she had an even number. When she was about to eat two of them, she had dropped one on the floor. She had picked it up, stared at it for a long moment and then swore. She then proceeded to toss all her food, meat, peas, and potatoes, out into the garbage, saying that it was all ruined. She then grumbled as she sat in her chair, her arms folded over her chest, her shoulders hunched. She had watched me eat my peas and potatoes, all mixed in together. She mumbled quietly, “Mixing food, that’s wrong, ruined, and wrong. Wrong. Wrong.” She continued to watch me eat, making me uncomfortable. I offered to make her some more food, but she just kept on repeating “Ruined, ruined, ruined.” After that I had quickly finished my meal and then headed out the door and went to the hill just outside of the city.

“I went out to get some fresh air. It was nice out, until just a few minutes ago.” I reply cautiously to the unasked question, unsure what mood she is in currently. I watch her as she moves towards me. She shuffles her feet, her shoulders hunched over as if protecting herself from something. Her eyes are a light grey, with large dark bags underneath them. Her lips are cracked and she licks them often. Her hair is still a dark brown, although streaks of grey are beginning to peek through. Her frame is small; she is almost as skinny as I am. She is a few inches shorter, although we would almost be the same height if she stood up straight. I walk over to her and grab her hand. “You should stand up taller, mom. You look so pretty when you straighten your back. Like a sophisticated business woman.” I poke her back gently with two fingers and she straightens up slightly. “Much better.” I give her a reassuring smile, and I see a light in her eyes that hadn't been there earlier this evening. She looks around the room and then stares at me.

“You didn't bring a hat when you went out did you? You know that the weather is unpredictable, Iris. Look at you. You look like you got run over by a street car.” She pulled at my hair as she tries to comb out the knots. “There could be animals living in here and you wouldn't even know.” She tugs hard, and I wince as she nearly pulls the hairs out of my head.

“Mom, stop it! It’s just hair!” I grab her hands and push them away from my head where she can do less damage. I keep a firm grip on them to make sure she doesn't make another beeline for my hair again.

“Tsk. At least brush it out before going to bed, otherwise you’re going to have a hell of a rats nest in the morning!” She raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for a response. I nod my head in compliance and place her hands back at her sides.