Going back to my house with my mother being in it was inevitable. Of course. I've been in my house numerous of times, times even when I was supposed to have conversations with my mother but she was in her bed, shielding away from the real world and I had to sit there and talk to her.

But now, since her husband or ex husband or whatever the fuck he was to her, was back in the picture, she was out here again in the first floor of the house, being a human, being real, normal, alive.

It was weird. But all the time before today I had stayed away from her enough to not feel mortified by the change. But now, she was pulling me into this new world of hers with my father in it, making me forget about my little escapes of existence when I went to my bedroom and blocked them out, now she was trying to make us meet and see each other all the time like, before, which was so long ago that I could barely remember it.

But in the end. I had no choice, I had to see her, and I had to speak to her. Which is why I didn't prolong my stay at Summer's place, and just let Karsen drive me back to my moms house.

He told me he'd see me later, or tomorrow, or whenever I wanted him here and I just nodded and closed his car door and walked into the house.

The usually quiet house filled with sound.

The usually empty couch had my mother on it.

The usually off television was on.

And the usually empty kitchen filled with a man who was my father but he wasn't filling the kitchen literally, just metaphorically, because he didn't fit in here, he was too much for this place.

He outgrew it. He wasn't supposed to be here.

It should all make me happy.

But instead. It irked me. Part of me hated myself for not thinking finally, or this is enough, but another part of me remembers how he left us when it got hard and is once again angry at him.

I look at my mother who looks away from her show and she gets up off the couch, smoothing out her shirt before playing with the hem of the shirt, which is a tell that she was nervous to speak to me about what I knew we'd be speaking about.

At least I knew I wasn't the only one feeling a negative emotion towards this conversation to come.

"How was your night?" My mother asks, but when she realizes that it could be an intrusive question now, since I had a boyfriend, her face flushes.

I quickly speak so she can realize nothing of that sorts happened, "It was okay, I slept early."

She nods, looking over to Philip, or well, my father. "Maybe you could give us a minute?"

I don't look at him but I know he agrees to leave because moments later I hear the side door open and close and thats when she looks back at me, "Why do you love your boyfriend?"

The question makes my carefully placed mask fall.

That was a random question, and also a question I hadn't prepared for her to ask me. "Why are you asking?"

"Just answer for me please."

"I love him for a multiple of reason." I tell her and she nods, waiting for me to elaborate, "He understands me, he makes me feel safe, I like his personality, I think he's handsome, I only think he's handsome, and he was there for me when no one else was, it all sounds trivial but I love him for more and honestly I can't express it with words all that I know is he's what I was missing from my life, with him I'm full."

Her eyes well with tears, "Your father is the part I was missing too."

"Theres parts of you that not even your own child could fill?" I ask, taking a step back from her and inch closer to the stairs and her eyes widen, and she shakes her head, wiping her tears away quickly. "No, no Adrienne no, its not about you, you were a good child, a great child even, you tried hard and you worked hard, you did so much for me, you did more than you should've been doing-"

"But it wasn't enough?"

She shakes her head, smiling sadly, "You of all people should understand."

"What does that mean?"

"That you love that boy, and he loves you, but that's not enough for you as a person, you need to be happy yourself and that doesn't come from people, it comes from within, from trying, the people help but they're not the solution."

"So what does Jackson have to do with your happiness?"

"He made me realize Adrienne, the same way Karsen made you realize too."

My lips part to speak but nothing comes out.

I process the words. And I keep quiet.

That little sentence makes more of a difference than I thought any sentence ever could.

Because I feel my tears slowly well in my eyes and I know its because for once, I think I understand where my mother was coming from.

She nods when she realizes i've understood, her tears sliding down her chin and onto her shirt and she wipes it away with her thin fingers, "You see? We're not so different, and we're not bad people mio bambina, we're human and we're both trying, just, differently."

At the moment, I can not respond. I just stare at her and absorb every word she says. "I know you'll forgive me, I know things will be okay with us, but are you willing to try with... him?" She asks, knowing that I wasn't ready for him to be address out loud as my father when he didn't feel like a father.

It was too much for me. Too weird. Too much.

I swallow the dryness in my throat before answering her, "I don't know."

And I was honest.

===

My mother and I were on okay terms after our little what felt like a therapy session between one another, but I still was uncomfortable with Philip being in the house so I went upstairs into my room and finished some of my work.

Then I took a nap, and woke up to an incoming face time call, and because it was not a normal call, I knew who exactly it was and answered without hesitation, coming face to face with my favorite former tutoree, if that even was a word. (I knew it wasn't.)

"Hi Gracie." I say before she can scream Eva into the phones speaker and when she does, I smile, resting my chin on the bed as I hold the phone up, "Were you sleeping?"

"Actually I was but I needed to get up to eat anyway, so thanks."

"Great stuff." She says, nodding her tiny head so damned hard I was scared it'd fall off. "Food is important."

"Very true." I reply, getting up from the bed, and packing my books on the bed too, "What're you doing?"

She sighs, sliding down on the floor, in front of the couch, rather than just sitting on the couch. "I was bored, watching Barbie-"

"Which one?"

"The island princess." She chirps before sighing again much too dramatically for a small person which makes me raise a brow for her to tell me more.

"My parents don't want to get me a phone."

I almost laugh but she sounds serious so I don't, but I feel my lips twitch. "Phones aren't that big of a deal Gracie."

"But I wanna call you more often Eva, and mamma takes her phone to work."

I smile sadly, "Okay okay... but you can call me after."

"She says I shouldn't bother you everyday."

"Gracie you're not bothering me ever, but she's just worried that you might get addicted to the phone." I try to explain it in a way so she doesn't feel bad about calling me a lot, because she shouldn't.

"Hmm, but I'm not."

"You might be because now you want a phone too and these things are addictive, not the best idea to get one, what if it makes your math mark drop?"

She gasps loudly, "No!"

"Yes." I say, nodding for emphasis. "We don't want that."

She shakes her head, "No no, we don't, i've been doing so well Eva, almost at an A!"

"Thats great, just keep trying!" I encourage Gracie, almost as enthusiastically as her, and she giggles, and I smile gently at the sound.

I guess trying wasn't such a bad thing.