First week of April
One of Gina’s strongest pulls on Gab was in blaming her for Jack’s resistance to visiting home. This guilt-trip was deployed against Gab at least once a week. Since she had moved to the city in February, Jack had only been back to visit Gina twice and it was now April. Despite the complete narrow-mindedness of the deduction, Gina’s conclusion was that this was Gab’s fault. If Gab hadn’t left, Jack would have wanted to be at home more often. Gina was sure that this was true. Maybe it was even Gab’s fault that Jack had gone to live with Brian in the first place.
“Jack doesn’t want to come here anymore!” Gina whined down the line. Gab was between classes, pacing back and forth along a shady avenue with her phone held a little away from her ear. “He only wants to stay at his dad’s place!” Gina continued.
Gab didn’t know what to say. They’d been through this a hundred times. She could understand entirely why Jack wanted to stay with his dad and why he didn’t visit Gina. Jack’s dad looked after him. Gina didn’t. She was so relieved that Jack wasn’t at home alone with Gina for any length of time.
Gina continued. “It’s your fault you know! If you hadn’t packed up and gone, things would be different. And I bet I can guess what you told Jack’s social worker about me … ” Gina sounded like a moody, threatening child. Gab clenched her teeth. There was a screw tightening and tightening inside her, taking her mind in circles with it. She did not have the emotional energy for this … again. Again. Every day. On Monday, it had been a dripping tap that Gina didn’t know how to fix. On Tuesday, a case of bloating from eating Gina-didn’t-know-what. On Wednesday, it was the unknown whereabouts of Gina’s favourite bed linen. Yesterday, an ominous horoscope reading that had sent Gina into panic mode.
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Gab didn’t think Gina wanted Jack back at all; she was sure her mother was just hunting for reasons to lay guilt on her for moving out. Even so, as the frustration coursed through her, she felt guilty for it, and the tension hurt.
“I don’t know what to say, Mum. I’ve given you my reasons, like, a million times. I can’t help it if Jack doesn’t want to come home!”
“But if you were here, he would come!” Gina whined. “He doesn’t want to be at home with no one to play with.”
Gab rolled her eyes and shook her head. Then she kicked a stone as hard as she could across the path.
“And,” spoke Gina ominously, “I had a dream last night, Gabrielle. In it, your university turned into was a giant pit of quicksand, swallowing up the buildings and trees, and everyone who was there. Your whole apartment building was sucked in. You were there and you started sinking down, down, down. Gabrielle, you need to be careful. It was a warning, I’m sure of it. The city is not a safe place. University is not the right place for you.”
When Gab thought it couldn’t get any worse, it always got worse. She hung up.
“Bye, Mum!” she said with mock cheerfulness, and hung up. Then—“Blatant bloody coercion!” she yelled at her phone. She threw it into the garden.
Then she regretted that and ran to get it. But the anger remained.