The heavy rain sheeted across the windshield, causing Erika to switch the wipers to their highest setting. The rhythmic slap of the wipers allowed only momentary peeks onto the empty and dark two-lane road.
“She’s at the lake house.” Her dad had said. “We weren’t expecting you till..” his voice abruptly cut off.
“Daddy? Daddy are you there?” His voice, choppy and indistinct finally solidified.
“I’m here. You’re driving I guess. We didn’t…” She cut him off, not wanting to lose him again.
“I know you weren’t expecting me. I wanted to surprise her. For her birthday.” Her voice was not loud, but firm and just a little too calm.
“Sure. That’s a great idea. She’ll like that. I’m sure she will.” His voice was flat and unconvincing. “She’s at the lake house with the girls. Her friends. ” his voice again flat. “I think she said she’d be back sometime Monday.”
“Ok Daddy. I’ll let you go now. It’s starting to rain and I…” she heard the line drop and tried to get him back without success. “Shit!” she spat, tossing the phone into the passenger seat.
The rain eased up and she saw the familiar road sign; Pilot Point 15 miles. She’d be at the lake house soon. A glance to the wrapped gift in the passenger seat and all of the feelings, old and new, flooded through her mind; hope, fear, the yearning for acceptance, for something like peace. “The book will help.” she thought, hoping. “It will pull us together.”
“It worked wonders with my mom.” Her roommate had gushed. “We get along better than we ever have. It really helped.” Joanie had said.
Erika had nodded and wanted so very much to believe. She had wanted to press the questions that rang through her heart and demanded to be asked. “Where you a disappointment too? Did you never measure up to her friends, to her sisters, to other daughters?” She kept them to herself.
“This will be different.” She thought. “I’ll be honest and I’ll ask her to be honest.” Her internal voice rang hollow and she struggled to find the courage to believe her own thoughts.
Her mind was cluttered with worry and doubt, she nearly missed the turn off and braked hard, causing the car to slide slightly on the wet road.
Her heart was hammering. She checked the rearview mirror; no cars in sight. Closing her eyes, she took a single deep breath in and out. She opened her eyes and steered into the lane.
Five minutes later she stood before the front door of the lake house. The porch light was on and she tried to find the courage to knock. Ringing the doorbell would be wrong, too formal. They had been coming to this lake house since she was little. She’d knock. Soon she would knock. She took one last long breath and knocked.
Time slowed down and she found herself hoping the door would somehow never open, that the situation would never be resolved. The hope, the fleeting, immaterial and vague hope would become eternal. She would at least have the hope. Her hopes were dashed as she heard the muffled thumps of approaching footsteps.
The door opened, a widening crack revealing cautious eyes that quickly gave way to confused surprise. Her mother quickly and in one continuous motion opened the storm door, stepped out, and closed the front door to stand smiling blankly at Erika.
“Hello mother! Happy Birthday! I thought I would…” Her speech, composed and written over long, painful hours to say just the right thing, to have just the right mix of daughterly love, correct grammar, and firm, clear thought faded from her lips as her mind absorbed the condition of her mother.
Her hair, eternally perfect was in total, impossible disarray. She wore an old white cotton robe, firmly held together by the white-knuckled fist of her right hand. She was barefoot and her makeup was smudged. Erika’s eyes seemed to lock on the bright red lipstick, very badly smudged, only half covering her lips. It was several seconds before she realized her mother had begun to speak.
“..expecting you. I…really had no idea you would… Why didn’t you call? I…” her mother stammered. Her eyes darting like cornered, frightened animals.
Erika turned her eyes to meet her mothers and offered the wrapped gift. “Happy Birthday mother. I’ll see you soon.” She said, her voice flat and mechanical, and she turned away, not hearing the continued chatter behind her.
As she walked to the car, she heard the door close behind her, like the sound in some half-remembered movie, playing in another room.
“She’s the one who made the mistake, who didn’t measure up. This time.” She thought, A grim smile growing on her lips as she clicked the car remote.
A flash of lightning exploded silently above, causing her to stop and look up. The rain came immediately along with the booming thunder. The cold raindrops splashed onto her upturned face and mixed with the hot tears flowing from her eyes.
