Mother Issues

            I am fairly certain that I was raised by a clinically insane woman.  Given my physical appearance, life was never going to be easy, but having Vienna as a mother added even more difficulties. She raised me on stories of her past. When I was too young to question my parental authority, I ate her words up. She filled my head with an image of her as some powerful vixen—a woman with untold beauty, fame, and riches. What child wouldn’t want to believe that their mother was a brilliant actress?

            The older I became, the more clearly I could see her situation. She was nearly broke, talentless, and with looks strange enough for people to question whether or not she had some terrible disease. When I asked her why nobody had ever heard of her name or movies in Appaloosa Plains, she told me yet another story. A witch had come and destroyed her life. Sometimes my mother talks to herself, truly engulfed in frustrating conversations. She claims that it is the witch, mocking her in her very own head.

            Vienna DeMarco is a deluded woman. She believes in curses, just as she believes that her one night stand was true love. It’s a shame she had to be my mother.

            Each day I feel less happy with knowing my mother, but her blatant favoritism of Odie still stings. I wouldn’t care if she was an equally terrible parent to both of us. To have her actually want to spend some time with Odie, if only because of who her father is, makes me feel terrible. Not that I would admit that to either of them though.

            I got a job right after becoming an adult, because I wanted to earn enough money to get away from Vienna as fast as possible. Redemption for how poorly I handled a criminal in the past was simply gravy.

            Heading out for my first day of work, I noticed a sparkling bucket sitting outside the door. I recognized the university’s llama mascot.

            Despite the chance of being late, I took the time to investigate it. The free posters were delightful.

            And the shirt and pennant even more so.  

            At the very bottom of the bucket were aptitude tests. I didn’t have the simoleons for college, and I knew my mother would never spend that much on someone who wasn’t her. Still, I whipped out a pencil and began hungrily answering questions.

            Odie found me just as my results began taunting me. I qualified for a partial scholarship, a rather generous one. When she asked what I was doing, I showed her the questionnaire.

            “Woah,” she said. “You conquered that thing! I bet the malamutes couldn’t even steal your brain.”

“Thank you,” I tried not to gush. I knew just how high of a compliment that was from her.

            We hugged as if in celebration. But what was there to celebrate? My scholarship was useless without other funding. And I was already missing my first day of work, so the chances of my earning enough money were growing slimmer.

            Too embarrassed to continue working after failing to show up on time for day one, I relinquished my position of snitch. It was a terrible moment. My deepest wish was to become a dynamic DNA profiler. It seemed as if that was out the window. I still had other desires out of life—mostly about having a family—but they were secondary.

            Kyle called me after I quit, wanting to know what I was thinking. I’d met him at my senior year’s career day. He was the representative for the law enforcement career track, and I pestered him with all sorts of questions. He said he liked the fire I had in me. After I became an adult, he asked me on a date. We spent the better part of my graduation day together. We talked and he introduced me to the gym, saying I’d need to know it for work. I enjoyed him, and so I did not mention how uncomfortable he looked on a treadmill.

            Not long after, I found myself making a late lunch for my teenaged sister and retired mother. I was used to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, having had the biggest hand in raising Odie.

            In between sticky mouthfuls, my mother said to me, “I have decided to choose you as my heir. Just don’t marry an ugly man, like that boy at the festival.”

            “What?” I exclaimed, having to put down my sandwich. “What are you talking about, Mother?”

            Vienna went on to tell about how it was my destiny to carry on her legacy. Even after Odessa joined us at the table, mother talked about how I would be in charge of the house and land, and it would be my children that would eventually be candidate for heir once again. I was shocked at her rudeness, although I shouldn’t have been.

            Odie did not seem at all fazed. She enjoyed a grunt-like giggle when Mother tripped her booby trap in the sink.

            The next morning, Mother asked me to a game of chess. I was suspicious of her initiation. Odie wanted to watch, but was too distracted by her imaginary beagle friend. They were getting close to taking down a malamute troop.

            “Why haven’t you gotten a job yet?” Mother complained. “You’re heir now, so you’re in charge of taking care of all the bills.”

            I made to leave. I did not want to indulge her with more talk of heirs and legacies. She stopped me though, demanding answers to questions like, “How can you not take being the daughter of Vienna DeMarco more seriously? Many little girls back home would kill to be in your position.”

            I launched back at her, angry about the injustice to my sister. And why would I agree to spend my entire life in her rundown house? Although, it would be nice to have a small cushion for starting off. Many people did not get that. And I could make the house less dilapidated.

            Mother tried to calm me down with the notion that I was the better heir, more likely to have appropriate children. I didn’t ask what that meant.

            “If I take over the household, then I automatically become treasurer of our family funds.” I pondered and mother gave me a hard look. “If Odie is fine with it, then I will accept your offer.”

            I went to my sister, who was masquerading as a malamute, hoping to get closer to secret intelligence. I made sure to keep any annoyance out of my voice while getting her attention.

            “Isn’t Mom being ridiculous with this whole heir thing? How could she pick between us?”

            “It’s not really picking if I don’t want anything to do with it,” she answered. “You’d be better off with it. Go tell her you’ll do it and run off to university. Like now, before they come for your impressive brain power!”

            “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Sister, that is your bucket of crazy to claim.”

            The sudden realization that I would be leaving for quite some time hit us both right then. We shared a tearful goodbye hug.

            Mine more tearful than hers.

            Then, before Mother could change her mind, we ran inside and packed a suitcase for me. I didn’t have many things to bring along though.

            I watched my sister wave goodbye from the moving van. There was no logical reason as to how things were able to move along so quickly, but, in my excitement, I dismissed this note.