Chapter 22

22

I woke up to a text from my mother and could tell it was begrudged, like someone had talked her into it — most likely my dad.

I think I need to make up for the way things ended on Christmas. Meet me at Riverside Upscale Restaurant at 6 p.m. tonight. I'll send an Uber for you.

In typical mother fashion, it's an order, not a suggestion. However, she had never offered transport to me. She always expected me to make my way through the busy city which made me super nervous. Especially when I had just got my license, she stopped picking me up from the house because it was ‘too much of a pain to drive back and forth' for our scheduled weekends when I was in school. I used to have Nate, but this past year I've had to catch Ubers.

One condition Dad set when it came to custody was that Mum had us on the weekends. He said that we needed a mother in our lives, but truthfully, I would have been okay without her. I would have rathered that than the way she treated us.

I just wanted to breathe.

Dread built low in my stomach as the sun dwindled behind the buildings and night slowly set in. Knowing the restaurant was one of those upscale places she preferred, I wore one of the dresses I reserved especially for these occasions. It was this floral piece of blues, oranges and whites with puffy long sleeves and a shape that hugged my figure to my waist before flowing halfway down my calves.

Just as I was applying the final touches to my makeup, Mum texted me to let me know the Uber was there to pick me up.

I grabbed my things in a rush, throwing them in a handbag as I slid my feet in a pair of sandals with the smallest heel and rushed down the stairs. I gave a quick air kiss to Dad and then I was in the Uber, travelling towards the inner city.

Traffic was busy as it typically was around five o'clock in the evening and usually I hated it — hated the stop and start and the people weaving through lanes — but I was thankful for the extra time it gave me before meeting my mother.

I pulled out a pair of earphones I had tucked into my handbag and I allowed myself to sink into the soft melodies, tuning out the thoughts in my head.

It was easier to escape, to let myself be pulled in by instrumentals lulling in my ears, forgetting the real world.

The car came to a complete stop all too soon though, and I opened my eyes to this low-lit restaurant with elegant Victorian-style features. It almost made me want to throw up.

I thanked the driver before making my way through the doors, clutching onto my handbag as if it was my lifeline. Greeted by the hostess, she ushered me through the restaurant until I spotted Mum at a table right next to the window overlooking the river. It was beautiful really, the view. I couldn't blame Mum for liking this place. The lights glinted off the water and the bridge in the distance, lit up with a dull blue light.

Unlike our last dinner, as soon as she saw me approaching, she stood and held my arms to press a kiss to my cheek. It was stiff still, but I never expected that kind of affection from her. The most I had ever gotten from her was a barely-there, robotic hug when I was six. It was odd, to say the least.

"Come. Sit." She waved a hand to the seat across from her. I did, placing my bag over the back of the chair closest to the window and folding my hands on my lap so she couldn't see my fidgeting.

She cleared her throat. "Would you like a drink?"

I nodded with a tight-lipped smile. "Sure. Just a lemon lime bitters is fine."

We sat relatively silent while we waited for our drinks and I stared out at the river, watching the ripples rock the water.

When the drinks arrived she decided to dive right into the reason for her request to see me.

"I know my actions on Christmas were unacceptable and I should apologise for that," she started, and I held back an eye roll. It definitely was not a straight-out apology, but it was the closest thing I've heard from her. "But, I just want what's best for you. I don't want you to throw your life away, or spend it doing something temporary."

My nose scrunched as I furrowed my brows.

"Throw my life away? Just because I have different aspirations to you, doesn't mean I'm going to throw my life away, Mum. I just finished high school, I'm not even a full-fledged adult yet. Can't you just let me breathe for a moment?"

She folded her hands above the table as she leaned forward with a pinched expression. "Dakota, you're eighteen. You're not getting any younger. You need to get ahead before it's too late. You can't just sit on your ass and hope opportunities just fall on your lap while you hop from one hobby to another. It's not practical."

I shrugged. "Maybe photography isn't just a hobby for me."

She sighed and shook her head. "That isn't going to give you steady employment. Your income will be based on people booking you to take photos and what if that never happens? That can't be something you're interested in."

I picked at the skin around my nails under the table. I knew there was truth to what she was saying. Photography was more freelance and unsteady. But that was the freedom of it all. However anxious it made me feel, I wouldn't be stuck behind a desk with piles of paperwork. I could make people smile, and capture its immortality. Capture the memories and happiness that seeped into people's skin and glowed through their eyes.

"So what if I am? You can't dictate what I enjoy and what I want to pursue. Photography is the first time I've felt like I've had a direction in my life. I've felt so lost, especially with your expectations for me to know what I want to do with my life. I'm not like you."

For the first time in my life, I saw my mother's eyes soften and I quickly swallowed the knot forming in my throat.

She sighed, leaning back into her chair and straightening her posture. Her usual composure was back but still, there was a tiny bit of softness in her eyes. "Look, I just want what's best for you. I don't want you to struggle to find your footing. I just think it's good to have at least a backup plan if anything fails." She paused and pressed her lips together. "I have a suggestion and after that, I'll drop it. I'll let you find your own way, okay?"

Reluctantly, I agreed.

She nodded and cleared her throat. "So, every year we take on a few interns for a week-long work experience. I talked to my boss and we organised a spot for you to join and work underneath me. I can introduce you to the people I work with and you can see what I actually do."

I wanted to straight up decline — nothing about it was anything I'd be interested in — but I was so sick of this being brought up and I was tired of fighting. So, if this was the last time she would bring this up and finally let me breathe, I would do it. I would brave a week following behind her beck and call and try to paste a smile on my face for one last time.

My lips twisted before I agreed, "Fine. It's a deal."

She seemed happy at that, opening her menu and scanning through the dishes. "Now that that is settled, let's eat."

We ordered and ate in silence. It was about an hour and a half before we parted ways. She left me with a simple ‘I'll see you in two weeks'. No need to put on a show of affection when she'd already got what she wanted.

I was made to get my own Uber home, of course. There was a small part of me that expected her to pay for my ride home too, which was silly of me to think. I should have known it was just niceties she afforded me just to get me to agree to come and to her plan.

I should have called Nate to pick me up, knowing he would hate the idea of me riding alone home after I promised not to, but I wasn't ready to go home yet. There was only one place I wanted to be and selfishly, I didn't want to share our spot with anyone else.

As soon as I hopped into the car, I slipped my earphones in and tried to drown out all the anxiety built from that one dinner. I was still restless though, no amount of volume I blasted into my ear shut off my brain.

I leaned forward to speak to the driver and rerouted my drop-off point to the only place that offered me solace. Then, I texted the only person who made me feel safe.