Page 12 of The Heart of a Painter (As I Am 1)

“If not for you, Iwouldn’thave been able to. It’sall thanks to you.”

My mom was the one who, after years of emotional abuse, packed our bags and moved the three of us out of that miserable house. The financial struggles that followed were all worth it, since we were out of the asshole’sreach.

“It’sus, as afamily, always. But that’snot why Ibrought it up. It’sbecause Iwanted to explain why Ididn’tget in the way.” Mom inhaled, her voice clogged with emotion. “While your dad and Iwere dating, his behavior changed gradually. Your grandparents saw him for what he really was and talked to me about breaking up with him. The more they tried, the more Iclung onto him, amistake Ihoped to avoid with you.”

“Ilove you, Mom.” Iwiped atear from my cheek in silence so as to not upset her, then added, “I’mso over relationships. I’mso over men. Ifeel like I’mdone.”

“There are other men out there, Erin.”

Corey, my younger brother, coughed exaggeratingly.

“Men like your brother.” She chuckled. “Men who are good and considerate and will love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

After staying single for so long, she blew my mind with how much more hope she had than Idid.

“What else is bothering you?”

“Nothing.” Isniffed. “Ijust got alittle emotional.”

“It’snot that,” she tsked. “Ihear in your voice that there’smore.”

“Yeah, Erin, the Human Emotion Detector is never wrong,” Corey yelled from the speaker.

Ever since he was old enough to understand why Mom left Dad, he’dacted extra protective toward her. He even chose acollege close to her home and visited her often.

“Oh, shush! Go away, this is agirl talk.” Mom snickered into the phone. “He doesn’ttell me anything, so Iuse some Secret Service methods to get information out of him.”

His masculine, low laugh echoed in my little apartment in Boston. “The FBI has nothing on Mom.”

“Now that we established that Iknow something’sgoing on”—she raised her voice, filled with humor—“tell me what it is and we’ll fix it together.”

“It’smy new boss,” Iconfessed, falling back on the couch and propping my feet up. Itold her the horrors of the last week, from the night in the neighborhood to our last conversation at the studio.

“Baby, you worked hard for this position, and you can’tlet anyone dictate your emotions.” She sighed, then went silent. Ithought she hung up when she added, “By this time next year, he’ll be out of your life and you’ll be working at fulfilling your dreams in the real world. Just think of him as astepping-stone for your wonderful journey.”

“Or Icould come and kick some ass if you need me to.”

“Corey!” Mom and Isaid in unison.

“Just throwing it out there.”

“I’ll be fine.” My smile grew wider at my brother’snonsense. “Ilove you guys.”

“We love you,” they said, and left me to mull things over.

Ihad alot to consider.