BEHIND CLOSED DOOR

Between work and school.

“Thanks for the sandwich!” she shouted.

“Brat!” I yelled back.

“Adrian, I’m being serious,” Mom scolded, bringing my attention right

back at her. Alexis was busy texting on her new phone I brought back for her. She was a fresher and all her friends had cell phones, and I didn’t want her missing out on anything. They would have a normal upbringing, nothing like how I had grown up.

“I completely understand that, Mom, but I honestly don’t have time. Between work, school, and you girls, my plate is full.”

She sighed. “That’s what I worry about, Adrian; you took this role of man of the house when your dad died and as much as I appreciate it... I’d love to see you happy and settled.”

I grinned. “I am happy; taking care of you girls makes me happy. Mom, you know you couldn’t afford everything on your own. Dad’s life insurance only covers so much and you have two more college tuitions to pay for. I already help with Lauren’s now... so can you get off this conversation? I’m fine. I’m sleeping. I swear,” I lied.

I never slept, even with the medication. I stopped taking it years ago. “What about therapy? Are you still talking—”

“Mom! Stop worrying. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing. I promise.”

“Okay, I love you, honey. I’m a mom; it’s my job to worry.”

I smiled. “You’re a great mom and I love you for it. Now here,” I said, handing her an envelope of cash.

She opened it and threw it back at me. “No! You pay for enough, I don’t need this.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t understand why she always did this, I ended up winning every time and it just prolonged the inevitable.

“Go buy yourself something nice then. Maybe the girls need something; isn’t homecoming coming up for Alexis? It’s her senior year.”

She nodded.

“Then see, you might need it for something. I made some amazing tips at the bar last week. Don’t worry about it. I have money for myself, this is for you,” I exclaimed, not calming her scrutinizing glare.

I worked at a bar near the UF campus and made a killing most days. I was graduating with my master’s degree in business at the end of the semester. I had been saving enough money for the last few years to get Alexis a car as a graduation present; I had yet to tell my mom. I knew it wouldn’t fly over very well so I was postponing the wrath.

I helped my mom as much as I possibly could since my dad died when I was sixteen. I didn’t mind it. I was grateful that the fucker was dead and underground; I hoped he was rotting in hell where he belonged. I took the responsibility of being the man of the house and never looked back. I took pride in taking care of my mom and sisters; they were all I had left.

My mom endured years and years of pain that we have never talked about. My sisters and I didn’t talk about it, either.

It’s as if he died and took all the truths and secrets with him. That’s what I had therapy for, but I loathed….

going and sitting with a complete stranger that didn’t know s**t about me and only pretended to care to get paid after his sixty minutes.

I stopped going to him years ago, but I didn’t want my mom to worry; she had enough on her plate. I told her what she wanted to hear and it had worked for me for the last four years.

Most of the time, I was able to block everything out, except when I was sleeping. As much as I tried, it was always there... waiting for me.

Taunting and haunting me.

“Adrian, what would I do without you, honey?” my mom asked, pulling me into a tight hug.

I wrapped my arms around her. “Good thing you will never have to know.”

I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Alexis and Lauren. Lauren told me about how her junior year of college was going and this guy she was talking to. I reminded her that I needed to meet him, before anything was set in stone, in order to scare the living s**t out of him if he touched her or hurt her in any way, although I didn’t tell her that part. Alexis spent most of the time on her phone and I finally had to grab it out of her hands for her to pay attention.

I loved being active in my sisters’ lives. I often wondered how much they remembered from when they were kids; they weren’t that young to have forgotten about the things that happened in our house. The community remembered my father as a hero and their most treasured officer. When he passed, we all suffered a loss... on the outside. I couldn’t speak for everyone else, but for me, it was a victory.

I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t worry about the types of men my sisters would fall for; I knew that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree and little girls admired their fathers. I prayed that, in their case, it wouldn’t be true. My mom never dated since he passed and that worried me more than anything, she had to be jaded, and I couldn’t blame her if she were. My dad put her and this family through the ringer, multiple times.

He never hit my sisters, only my mom and me. I could still see the sadness and regret that she held in her eyes every time she looked at me. I was her baby boy, getting beaten by the man she married, the man she loved at one point or another, the man she said her vows to, the man she raised a family with. I knew she felt responsible for every one of his actions and blows, even though she never had any control over it. She was a victim as much as I was, as we all were.

Except, you couldn’t help how you felt. No one could change your mind when it’s set on something. It didn’t matter how you appeared to the world, all that mattered was how you felt when you lay your head on your pillow at night and let your eyes close and your subconscious takeover.

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