Page 23 of January (New Orleans #1)

K yle turned the page of the journal. She hadn’t planned on reading it today, but there was no need for her to be at the house while they were doing an initial inspection. Myra had gotten her a quick quote to give Kyle an idea of how much it would cost to do all the work they’d discussed, but today, Myra and the people she’d brought over were going through each room and would then discuss an updated quote with her once they had some ideas on the material options. Kyle wanted the house to be as historically accurate as possible, so that meant more expensive windows and more expensive flooring, but she felt it would be worth it one day if and when they decided they no longer wanted to rent it out and instead, wanted to sell it. Myra had already explained to her that there would be permits needed to get working, and those take some time, so she expected the place to be empty for a bit.

As she read the next entry in the journal, she thought about how that would be weeks, and then the work itself would also take weeks. She smiled to herself as she sat on her grandmother’s old sofa. It would need to go as well. It was too old to be sold, really, so she’d already arranged for someone to pick it up when the replacement one she’d ordered would be delivered. It wasn’t an expensive sofa, and that was fine. She just wanted something here because while they’d already discussed what they thought they’d do with this place, Kyle wasn’t sure anymore, and because she was staying for a while, she wanted this house to feel like home to her. A new bed would probably be in order as well since her grandmother’s mattress might be as old as the house itself, and she wasn’t a fan of sleeping on it. She’d go shopping for a new one and a new frame, too; nothing fancy or expensive, but comfortable, at least.

When Kyle turned the page again, she noticed that the day was about three years before she was born. She’d breezed through journals before this one because while they’d been interesting, they hadn’t held the story of what had happened between her and Kyle’s mom. Sometimes, her grandmother had also skipped full years between journals. In fact, the first two years of her mother’s life weren’t documented in them at all; likely because she was busy with a baby and didn’t have time to write about it. Her mom’s fourteenth birthday was the subject of this journal. Kyle read about the party that they’d had for her and how many friends had been there. She even mentioned a few of the gifts they’d given her. Kyle couldn’t even picture her mom at fourteen, which made no sense because she’d been close to seventeen when Kyle had been born, but thinking about her having a birthday party where someone gifted her Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers and a poster of the popular boy band at the time was a lot for Kyle to take in.

The next few pages, though, were even more illuminating. Kyle was flipping through them as quickly as she could, wishing she could read faster. The fighting had started long before her mother had gotten pregnant with her. First, with Kyle’s grandfather. It seemed, Kyle’s mother would often stay out late past curfew with friends without calling. Then, she’d started smoking. They’d punished her, but she’d snuck out most nights. One time, her mother had gotten very drunk, and she’d been brought back to the house by a friend, which was how they’d found out. She’d also gotten so drunk on another occasion that they’d ended up at the hospital, having her stomach pumped.

Kyle hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol until she was nineteen, and that had been a sip of a beer. Her mother had been so drunk regularly at fourteen, that she’d even gotten her stomach pumped. They were so very different…

The next journal picked up right after the hospital incident. Kyle’s grandmother was really struggling. Kyle could tell. Her only daughter was in rehab for three months before her fifteenth birthday. Kyle skimmed through some entries to get to the point where she got home. Three days… Her mo ther had lasted three days before she’d gone out again.

“Jesus,” Kyle said, turning the page.

That night, her grandfather had found his daughter in the basement of a boy’s house. That boy had not been Kyle’s father, and they’d both been naked. Her mother had been drunk and, apparently, high on something as well. Kyle nearly closed the journal and stopped reading. Hearing how her grandmother was struggling and in pain about killed her. It was obvious the woman loved her daughter and had no idea why she was doing these things. It sounded like they’d had a great life. Money wasn’t an issue. Her mother had gone to private schools and had friends. Kyle wasn’t even sure what had driven her to act out.

Therapy had begun at fifteen, but it hadn’t lasted long because she’d run off. Her mother had run away. The cops had found her this time and had brought her home six days later. Kyle read her grandmother describe what had happened next. Her mother had been pregnant and had run away in order to have an abortion. Her Catholic grandparents hadn’t been happy with that, but Kyle could tell that they were more worried about their daughter’s behavior than the abortion. They’d fought at length. Her grandparents had talked about sending her to a school for troubled youth, but they believed they could help their daughter.

Kyle picked up the next journal, having no concept of time as she flipped through the pages. Her mother got a little better when she met Kyle’s father. Her grandmother wrote about how he was a good influence on her. Then, Kyle got to the page where they found out. Her mother was pregnant again . Kyle guessed that good influence didn’t mean celibate influence. The part Kyle hadn’t predicted was the content of the fight her grandmother described on these pages. She’d always assumed her mother had been partially truthful in that they’d fought over her getting pregnant. She’d had no idea there had been behavioral issues before this or that Kyle could have had an older brother or sister. She’d also had no idea about the next part .

She was drinking. I thought she’d stopped. We both did. We thought she’d finally given up the drinking and the drugs, but we caught her in the kitchen with a full shot glass to her lips. She downed it as if it were nothing. She told us about the baby two days ago, and she was in the kitchen, drinking rum. We asked her where she got it because we no longer keep alcohol in the house. She said she bought it with a fake ID because she knew we wouldn’t let her have another abortion. She’d nearly finished the bottle. We fought. We got her in the car and took her to the hospital. She was already nine weeks along, and she was drinking. She was trying to kill her baby.

Kyle closed the journal then. She couldn’t read any more of it right now. Her mother had tried to kill her. She’d been a troubled teenager and had decided that because she couldn’t have another abortion, she’d just take care of it herself. Kyle had told herself to be prepared for anything, but she hadn’t been prepared for that.

Her phone rang, and she expected it to be Melinda, who had told her that she’d call her later, but when she checked the screen, Kyle was surprised to see that it was her sister instead.

“Hey,” she said, likely sounding how she felt.

“Don’t be mad…”

“Mad? About what?” Kyle asked.

“I caught up with Mom yesterday.”

“Okay.”

“And I told her.”

“About what?”

“The houses and the money.”

Kyle closed her eyes and said, “Jolie, why would you–”

“I know… I’m sorry. I had questions, and I stupidly thought I would just ask her why Grandma left us some things when she never even reached out, and Mom wanted to know what things. I tried to downplay it, but she pulled it out of me.”

“Fuck,” Kyle said.

“Yeah… And she was okay at first. She didn’t answer my questions or anything, but she was cool. ”

“Mom is never cool, Jolie.”

“I know. Ky, she’s on her way there.”

“What?” Kyle shot up out of the chair.

“I didn’t know until I got to the trailer right now to check on her. She had the old laptop still on the booking site. She had a flight booked there for this morning. It was scheduled to arrive about thirty minutes ago. I think she’s on her way to you.”

“Jesus, Jolie!”

“I know. I’m sorry. You know how she is…”

“What exactly did you tell her?”

“Just that she left the houses to us and that–”

There was a loud knock at the front door. Kyle froze. The knock didn’t stop, though. It was a pounding now.

“Kyle, I know you’re in there!”

“She’s here,” Kyle stated.

“Shit. Ky, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d just–”

“I’ll call you later. I’ve got to deal with this now.”

Without waiting for a reply, Kyle hung up the phone, tucked it into her back pocket, and headed toward the door.

“Hi, Mom,” she said, pulling it open.

Her mother burst through the door, looking angry and fired up. Then, she paused as it hit her, Kyle guessed. She’d grown up here and hadn’t returned to this house since the day she left. Kyle watched as her mother’s head went on a swivel, seeing pretty much the same living room she’d left behind all those years ago.

“Kyle, why didn’t you tell me my mother left you the money?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know,” Kyle answered honestly.

“That should be my money,” her mother said, turning back to Kyle now as Kyle closed the front door.

“She didn’t leave it to you.”

“Yes, I discovered that. I was waiting on that money, Kyle.”

“What? Why?” Kyle asked, confused .

“She didn’t have anyone else left. I assumed it would come to me.”

“I didn’t even know she had money, Mom. You always told us you grew up poor. You were anything but poor. I’m honestly a little pissed at Dad for not telling us that.”

“He didn’t know about the money. I never told him. And you can see how my parents forced me to grow up here, even though they were wealthy and we could’ve lived in the other house. They didn’t like showing off. Do you know that they sent me to a rich kid school and lived here? Any idea what it was like to go to my friends’ houses, see all they had, and then have them come here and think I was a charity case?”

“Mom, you had a good life.”

“How would you know?” her mother spat out at her. “I just want my money, Kyle. It’s mine. It should’ve been mine.”

“She left it to Jolie and me. We saw the lawyer, Mom. None of it was left to you. I don’t know what you were expecting or why, but–”

“I should’ve fucking known,” her mother interrupted, running a hand through her dirty blonde hair.

“Known what?”

“That she’d leave this shit to you!” the woman nearly yelled. “She’d spite me one more time with that one. It wasn’t enough, to send cards with money to you but not to me. Never to me.”

“Cards?” Kyle asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. I want my share, Kyle. I want out of that trailer, and I want to stop working. I deserve it.”

“You don’t deserve anything,” Kyle stated loudly. “Are you kidding me, Mom? What is wrong with you?”

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m your mother.”

“Could have fooled me,” Kyle replied. “What cards? What money?”

“She sent you a birthday card and a Christmas card every year. Then, your father told her about Jolie, and they came for her, too, but nothing ever for me. ”

“You said she never–”

“I lied. I knew if I gave you the cards, you’d want to buy toys or something, but I needed that money to take care of you.”

“You took our money, Mom?” Kyle asked, nearly in tears now.

“It was my money.” Her mother seethed. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“I was a kid, Mom,” Kyle replied. “How long did she send–”

“Every year until this past one.”

“You took money from us that we could have used for college or rent?”

“I didn’t get to go to college,” her mother said. “I was kicked out because of you.”

“No, Mom; you got kicked out because of you . You got pregnant a second time, and you couldn’t get another abortion, so you tried to kill me by drinking.”

“What?” her mother asked, looking a little shocked.

“Yeah, I know the whole story now. They took you to the hospital to make sure I was okay, and you booked it. You convinced Dad to run with you, didn’t you? You conned Jolie into telling you that Grandma left us money, and you conned him into going with you back then. You were a mess, and I don’t understand it, but you ran, Mom. They didn’t kick you out. They tried with you, and you left. How dare you come in here telling me this is your house and your money? You had problems. I don’t know why, but you did, and you got pregnant. You tried to drink me away, Mom. How could you do that and then spend all these years blaming me, making me feel like it was all my fault?” Kyle wiped tears from her cheeks. “How could you?”

“Because I deserved more!” her mother yelled. “And you and my fucking parents conspired against me.”

“No one conspired against…” Kyle faded out, knowing it wasn’t worth it to argue with this woman. “Mom, you need help. ”

“I need money, Kyle. Once I get the money I should have had all along, I’ll be fine.”

“No, you’ll be drunk and high, too, probably,” Kyle replied. “And I’m not giving you anything. Once Jolie and I get the money and it’s split down the middle, if she wants to give you something, that’s up to her, but I’m going to tell her not to, and you’re not getting anything from me.”

“I’m your mother, Kyle.”

“You treated your own mother like absolute shit, and you’re trying to play that card with me right now? It won’t work, Mom. I’m too tired. I’m not going to argue with you. This property belongs to me and Jolie, and you’re trespassing. I want you to leave.”

“This is my house,” her mother replied.

“No, it’s not. It’s mine. I’ll call the attorney and prove it to you if you want, but it’s mine, and I don’t want you here.”

“I didn’t want you at all,” her mother argued.

Kyle froze. Despite every bad thing this woman had ever said to her, she’d never said those words directly before.

“Please go,” Kyle told her, wiping another tear from her cheek.

“I’m not leaving town, Kyle. I’ll fight this.”

“Fine. Just go,” Kyle replied, opening the door.

Her mother looked around again before she marched out in a huff.