What Matters Most (7 page)

“Are you there, baby? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Shannon,” I say quietly, “I can hear you.” I watch as other kids get into their cars. I imagine them going home to houses where normal parents do normal things…so different from mine.

“I know I should have some sort of plan in place by now.
I should be able to put a roof over my baby’s head, but I just don’t know what to do. What should we do, baby?”

“Just take care of yourself,” I say slowly. “Don’t worry about me, Shannon. I’m fine. Really, I am.”

“Oh, I know you’re all happy and comfy living with Allen and Kim.” The little-girl tone is evaporating now, and I can tell she’s getting irked at me. “But don’t forget, Maya. They are my family too. It was my sister’s home, you know.” She sighs loudly. “I sure miss Patty.”

It’s all I can do not to scream.
She misses Patty?
Give me a break. This is a woman who ran away and never lifted a finger to find her “beloved” sister. Even when Patricia was on her deathbed, Shannon chose to go shopping. By the time she got there, it was too late. And now she misses her? Tell me another one. Fortunately, I don’t say any of this.

“So, what are you going to do, Shannon?” I ask calmly. “Is there someone in L.A. you can stay with for a while until you figure things out?”

“Lynnette got a new boyfriend.” Shannon sounds like she’s starting to cry now. “She said I can’t stay with her.”

“But there must be someone else.”

“No one wants me, baby. Everyone has given up on me.”

I want to say “including me.” But again, I don’t.

“All I have is you, baby. And I need you. I need to see your face…your pretty brown face. My little brown baby.”

“Have you been drinking, Shannon?”

“Just a beer or two, baby. I had to celebrate my freedom.”

“Shannon.” My voice is icy now, and I’m just trying to breathe. “I’m sorry your life is a mess, but it’s your mess, not mine. And if you’re barely out of jail and already drinking, it seems to me that you plan to continue to make a mess.”

“Why are you so mean, Maya? Why do you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you, Shannon. I feel sorry for you. But I also feel sorry for me. And right now it’s every woman for herself.”

“Fine, if that’s how you treat your mother.”

Mother?
I take in a sharp breath. “You know what you need, Shannon?”

“A rich man?” Now she laughs like that’s so clever.

“No, Shannon,
you need God
. And until you figure that out, you’ll probably keep going from one mess directly to another. And I’m sorry, I don’t want to go there with you. The only thing I can offer you is my prayers. And if you really do need a place to stay, I’m sure there must be a mission or homeless center nearby that will take you in.”

I’m not surprised when she hangs up on me. My hands are shaking as I close my phone and then turn it off. I can’t handle any more calls from her. Not today. And as I drive over to Chloe’s house, I question whether or not I handled that right. I mean, as a Christian. I’m supposed to love my enemies. I’m supposed to be kind, loving, generous, patient…all that good stuff. But how
am I supposed to be like that to Shannon? At least I’d been trying to forgive her. Anyway, I thought I had. But now I suspect it’s going to take more time.

Later, as I parked my car and walked up to Chloe’s house, I wasn’t so sure. I tried to act like nothing was wrong, but as we started to jam, playing Christian songs about loving others and being changed to look more like God, I questioned myself even more. Finally, when we were having a break, Chloe looked directly at me and asked, “Maya, are you okay?” That’s when I broke into tears and told Chloe, Allie, and Dominic the whole story about what I’d said to my mother less than an hour ago.

“I’m such a horrible Christian,” I confessed. “I can’t even love my own mother. I don’t want to see her again. Not ever. I don’t want her in my life. I can’t stand her.” My hands balled into fists, and I shook them. “I hate her! I honestly do hate her. What kind of a Christian hates her own mother?”

All three of them wrapped their arms around me. And then Chloe began to pray for me. I can’t remember all that she prayed, but it wasn’t like she was praying for God to make me a better Christian or to help me love my mother better. She was praying that God would hold me in His arms and that He would be my Father and that I would know how big His love for me was. And that was about it. And yet when she finished, I felt so much better.

“Thanks,” I said as Chloe handed me a tissue. “Thanks, all you guys. I’m sorry I’m such a blubbering baby.”

“Who can blame you?” Dominic just shook his head. “All you’ve been through and now this too. I can’t believe your mom expects you to rescue her.”

“And you shouldn’t even think of trying to help her,” Allie assured me. “That would be so codependent.”

I nodded. “You’re right. I mean, it never helped in the past. The more I did for her, the worse off she became. I know she needs to stand on her own two feet. But it’s hard. I mean, I think about Jesus saying things like ‘If someone hits you, just turn the other cheek’ or ‘If someone asks for your coat, give them your shirt too.’ Stuff like that. And then I tell my own mother to stay out of my life, and I feel like a total hypocrite.”

“But you’re not,” Chloe assured me. “God doesn’t expect you to parent your mother, Maya.”

I nodded. “Yeah…probably not.”

So that’s what I’m telling myself tonight.
God does not expect me to parent my mother
. It’s like I need to say it over and over in my head just to get a firm hold on it. Because old habits die hard, and I spent a lot of time taking care of Shannon in the past, and I probably believed it was my job to do that. I mean, hey, I was a kid—how would I know better? In some ways Shannon stole my childhood from me and a chunk of my adolescence as well. But I don’t have to let her steal anything else from me. Besides, I realize now that I can’t help her. Not really. It’s time for her to help herself, hopefully by turning to God and getting her life in order.

I know I need to keep forgiving her. (It’s not like a one-time, it’s-over-and-done-with sort of thing.) And I need to keep praying for her. And I need to obey God and love her too. But God will have to help me with some of these hurdles (or mountains), because the truth is, I can’t do it on my own. I don’t even want to.

Incredibly, a week has passed with no phone calls from Shannon. I feel like I should knock on wood or something. I also feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall. But mostly I try not to think about it. I try to just focus on my life.

But speaking of bad mothers—okay, I know that sounds harsh—today I spoke to Marissa’s dad, and after what he told me about his ex-wife (Marissa’s mother), I really wanted to strangle that woman. What is wrong with some grownups? Why do they think it’s okay to have children and then just abandon them? Because that is what Marissa’s mom has done with her. Oh, it started a long time ago, and I suspect it has a lot to do with why Marissa has been so rebellious, although I used to think that had more to do with a cop dad who might’ve been overly strict. But now that I know him better and after some things Marissa told me before the accident, I think the missing mom is more to blame. But anyway, when it comes to winning the award for having the world’s worst mother, Marissa and I might be tied. Or maybe she would win.

Because despite Shannon’s faults, I think it’s possible that if I were in a serious accident and needed her help, well, she might just be there for me. Or not. It’s a hard call. And I have no plans to try it out to see.

But when Marissa’s dad asked his ex if she could help with Marissa’s recovery, since the doctor might release her from the hospital by the end of the week and thinks a home environment would be good for her, Marissa’s mom said, “No way.”

“I’m not that surprised she turned me down,” Marissa’s dad confided to me after I’d said good-bye to Marissa this evening. “But I’m just not sure what to do now. I can’t afford to hire an in-home nurse, and my insurance won’t cover it.” He shook his head. “It’s amazing all the things that insurance
doesn’t
cover.”

“That’s got to be hard.” I know for a fact that his finances have been a mess since the accident. The police force passed the hat around, and our church did a special collection for them, but I suspect those funds barely dented their bill pile.

“I think my only option is to put Marissa in a nursing home.”

“A nursing home? Aren’t those for old people?”

He nodded. “For the most part. But it’s the best we can do in our town. And I don’t like the idea of her being a hundred miles away.”

“Oh…” I could tell he was bummed by this too, and I didn’t want to make him feel worse. “But if she continues to recover,
well, maybe she wouldn’t be there for long. And I’ll bet that old people would enjoy having her around.”

He brightened a little. “Let’s hope so.”

“And I’ll keep visiting her, and I know others will too.” Okay, even as I said this, I wasn’t so sure. It seemed that it had only been Chloe and me visiting her this past week. Allie confessed that the whole hospital scene makes her want to climb the walls. And Eddie, still recovering from his own injury and guilty conscience since he was the drunk driver on the night of the accident, seems to have faded into the woodwork.

Marissa’s dad nodded. “I really appreciate that, Maya. You kids have no idea what a comfort that is to me. Visits from her friends seem to be the best medicine my girl gets these days.”

So my plan is to challenge our youth group on Saturday night. I’m going to bring a sign-up sheet and see if I can get anyone to commit to regularly visiting Marissa in the nursing home, hopefully spread out through the week. And maybe I can even come up with some ideas for them—ways to engage Marissa in conversations and help with her recovery.

Tonight was open mike again, and this time, after several fun jam sessions this past week, Chloe, Allie, Dominic, and I decided to debut a couple of Chloe’s newest songs. And once again the response was pretty cool.

“Is this the new Redemption?” Mike asked us after closing time as we were putting our equipment away.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” said Willy Johnson. That’s Allie’s stepdad, and he used to manage their band. “It’s a different sound, but it’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” said Jill from behind the counter where she was cleaning out the coffee machine. “They’re awesome!”

“I don’t know.” Willy scratched his chin. “Redemption was always known as a girls’ band. Not sure their audience would welcome a fella.” He grinned at Dominic. “No offense. I happen to think you have a lot of talent, young man. It’s just that part of the charm of Redemption’s persona was that it was all female. You know?”

Dominic nodded. “I offered to cross-dress, but they didn’t like the idea.”

Willie chuckled. “No, the Christian music industry probably isn’t quite ready for cross-dressing.” Now Willy turned to me. “But I could see you stepping into the band, Maya.”

“Not seriously,” I said.

He nodded. “Oh yeah, I mean seriously. You’d need to work on your playing skills and catch up some. But that voice of yours.” He shook his head. “Well, it’s a good one.”

“Does that mean Laura has retired for good?” Mike asked as he set a chair upside down on a table.

“We don’t know that for sure,” Allie admitted. “She just wanted to do a term of college and think about it.”

“And pray about it,” Chloe added.

Okay, I was starting to feel pretty uneasy right then. I mean, just because I’d been jamming with Chloe and Allie didn’t mean that I thought they were going to invite me to be part of their band. In fact, they
weren’t
inviting me. And they both looked as uncomfortable about this little turn of events as I felt. I actually kind of resented the way Allie’s stepdad had jumped the gun like that. I mean, he’s not even their manager anymore. It seems out of line for him to start suggesting what they should do with their band. Fortunately, my guitar was already in its case, and I told them I needed to get home. I’m sure they knew that wasn’t exactly true since my closer friends know that I sort of make my own rules while living at my uncle’s. Oh, I try to be courteous and responsible, but I mostly come and go as I please. I don’t bother Uncle Allen, and he doesn’t bother me. It’s not exactly a cozy family situation, but it’s a safe place, and I know that Uncle Allen really does love me. I also know that his job as editor of the local paper is pretty demanding. And I understand that he doesn’t want to parent me. The truth is, I wouldn’t want him to anyway.

But I’ll admit it’s kind of a lonely way to live. Not that it’s so much different from how it was with Shannon. But it’s not what I’d imagined either…back in the days when I wanted to have my cousin Kim’s “normal” life. I guess that normal doesn’t really exist. Or maybe normal is simply different for everyone. My normal seems to be independence. Well, except for God. I am very dependent on Him.

T
hose are excellent ideas,” Caitlin said. We met at the Paradiso this morning, and I’d just updated her on Marissa’s situation. “A fund-raiser is always a fun way to bring people together. What exactly did you have in mind?”

“Well, because we were doing open mike last night, I suppose I was thinking music. I’m not sure exactly how or what it would be, but they could really use the help. Marissa’s dad seemed pretty stressed this week.”