An Ordinary Woman by Donna Hill

Author:Donna Hill
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780312307295
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 2010-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

Somehow I find myself, hours later, pulling up in front of Lisa’s parents’ home. Fate or instinct? I’m not sure how long I drove through the streets of Brooklyn. But I’m here now. It is twilight. I have come to the one place in the world where I know I can find comfort and not be judged. Please he home, I chant as I walk to the familiar front door and ring the bell.

Moments later, Ms. Carmen comes to the door, and before 1 realize whats happening she holds me in her arms, ushering me inside, telling me that whatever it is will be all right.

She guides me into the kitchen, and from the corner of my eye I notice Ross, Cliff, and Mr. Louis, and briefly I wonder if Lisa is around, as well. The men start to get up. I hear muffled voices of concern. Ms. Carmen waves them off, creating a safe space for me. We keep going.

“Is Lisa here?” I mumble over my tears, a part of me hoping that she isn’t. I want some time alone with “Mom.”

“No. She has some special meeting with the professors at the university. Come. Sit.” She pulls out a chair for me and then closes the kitchen door.

I stare at my hands, lacing and unlacing my fingers. A cup of herbal tea magically appears in front of me.

“Drink up. You’ll feel better,” she says gently, and brushes my tightly coiled twists. The tender, motherly gesture opens the floodgates again.

“Let it out, sweetheart,” she coos, gently stroking my back. “Let it out. It’s all right.”

“It’ll never. . .be all right, Ms. Carmen. She hates me. . .and I hate her.”

“No, you don’t, Asha. You love your mother desperately,” she says, instinctively knowing of whom I spoke. “Or else you wouldn’t be here crying. What it is, is that you want her to love you back.”

“She called me a whore. A whore. Her own daughter.” Another wave of tears overwhelms me.

“She didn’t mean it. You know that. Your mom is a very lonely woman. A part of her resents your resiliency your ability to take on the challenges of life, to live it to the fullest and not let it get you down—as it’s done to her. She doesn’t hate you. She’s simply lost her capacity to show love. It’s her own fears, sweetheart.”

“But what have I done? What makes it so hard for her to love me, show me that she cares that I even exist?”

“It’s not you, baby. It’s her. It’s your mothers demons that she must battle. Sadly enough, it’s often the one we love most whom we hurt.”

I glance up at her and can feel the heaviness of my swollen lids. “So, what can I do?”

“Find a way to let it go. I know its hard, and it may be impossible. But you must. You have to go on. Live your life, under your own terms, whatever they might be. But you have to let the hatred go.

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