into the room. She should not have been shocked at what her mother looked like, but nothing could have prepared her to face this woman who gave birth to her, who was now almost unrecognizable.
Sally was sitting in the front row of chairs facing a television, holding the remote control, zapping quickly through television channels, never settling on one for more than a few seconds, much to the frustration of the four other women in the room.
Grace stood off to the left, devastated at the toll living on the streets had taken on her mother. She had remembered her as young, pretty, normal looking if not always normal acting, but this version of her mother was years older than Grace would have expected, and so much bigger than when she had last seen her, almost a year ago.
Her pretty features were masked by doughy cheeks and a double chin. If Grace hadn’t known it was her mother, she would have walked straight past her.
Unexpectedly, Sally laughed. Grace saw her teeth, one missing on each side. She looked exactly as she was: a toothless, homeless woman with a glitter in her eye and a forcefield of energy around her that had a buzz that was almost palpable.
Grace remembered this buzz, this energy, from her childhood. This was when her mother would go on huge shopping binges, or drive Grace miles from home on a quest for some sort of treasure. It was exhilarating being in her company, and exhausting. And completely unsafe. Grace never felt she was in the company of a responsible adult during those times, would pray that nothing would go wrong.
‘Mum?’ Grace ventured after Sally paused to look at Grace, her eyes sweeping over her dismissively before going back to the television. ‘It’s me. It’s Grace.’
‘I know who it is,’ said Sally. ‘Are you coming in? What are you doing standing in the doorway? You look like I used to look, years ago. I may not have seen you for a while but I’d know you anywhere. I thought you were too busy in America to bother with me. I know you’re living it up in New York. What are you doing here? Nice of you to come and see me. I’m surprised you’re not off with your other mother.’ She gave a gap-toothed grin before handing the remote to a woman sitting next to her and standing up. ‘Don’t just stand there,’ Sally said, walking towards Grace. ‘You can give your old mum a hug.’
What had I expected? she thought. A
Waltons
-esque reunion? The two of us flying into each other’s arms, tears of gratitude and joy rolling down each of our cheeks.
Well, yes. She had expected something like that. Had hoped her mother would be pleased to see her after so, so many years, but perhaps this is her mother being pleased to see her. Perhaps this is as good as it gets.
She felt her mother’s small body against hers, incredulous that she came out of this woman, that this was the woman present for the first eighteen years of her life. She expected to feel a huge bond, the invisible umbilical cord still stretching between them after all this time, but holding her mother, feeling the boniness of her spine, her soft, distended stomach, noting her wiry grey hair, Grace was astonished to feel little other than tremendous sadness.
‘Come and see my room!’ Sally disengaged, tugging on Grace’s arm. ‘I have a picture of you on my wall.’
‘You do?’ Grace was momentarily thrilled, reaching the room to find an old photograph of Grace as a child with Sally, one she didn’t even know her mother still had, blu-tacked to the faded yellow walls of a room that contained three iron single beds and three lockers, each carefully locked.
‘See?’ Sally said, proudly pointing out her room. ‘There you are. And there I am.’ She moved closer to the picture. ‘Not ageing so well, but I’m not running around America without a care in the world, am I?’
‘You look well,’ said Grace. ‘I have spent a long time hoping to find you. I didn’t know about this hostel. I’m glad I now know
Sally was sitting in the front row of chairs facing a television, holding the remote control, zapping quickly through television channels, never settling on one for more than a few seconds, much to the frustration of the four other women in the room.
Grace stood off to the left, devastated at the toll living on the streets had taken on her mother. She had remembered her as young, pretty, normal looking if not always normal acting, but this version of her mother was years older than Grace would have expected, and so much bigger than when she had last seen her, almost a year ago.
Her pretty features were masked by doughy cheeks and a double chin. If Grace hadn’t known it was her mother, she would have walked straight past her.
Unexpectedly, Sally laughed. Grace saw her teeth, one missing on each side. She looked exactly as she was: a toothless, homeless woman with a glitter in her eye and a forcefield of energy around her that had a buzz that was almost palpable.
Grace remembered this buzz, this energy, from her childhood. This was when her mother would go on huge shopping binges, or drive Grace miles from home on a quest for some sort of treasure. It was exhilarating being in her company, and exhausting. And completely unsafe. Grace never felt she was in the company of a responsible adult during those times, would pray that nothing would go wrong.
‘Mum?’ Grace ventured after Sally paused to look at Grace, her eyes sweeping over her dismissively before going back to the television. ‘It’s me. It’s Grace.’
‘I know who it is,’ said Sally. ‘Are you coming in? What are you doing standing in the doorway? You look like I used to look, years ago. I may not have seen you for a while but I’d know you anywhere. I thought you were too busy in America to bother with me. I know you’re living it up in New York. What are you doing here? Nice of you to come and see me. I’m surprised you’re not off with your other mother.’ She gave a gap-toothed grin before handing the remote to a woman sitting next to her and standing up. ‘Don’t just stand there,’ Sally said, walking towards Grace. ‘You can give your old mum a hug.’
What had I expected? she thought. A
Waltons
-esque reunion? The two of us flying into each other’s arms, tears of gratitude and joy rolling down each of our cheeks.
Well, yes. She had expected something like that. Had hoped her mother would be pleased to see her after so, so many years, but perhaps this is her mother being pleased to see her. Perhaps this is as good as it gets.
She felt her mother’s small body against hers, incredulous that she came out of this woman, that this was the woman present for the first eighteen years of her life. She expected to feel a huge bond, the invisible umbilical cord still stretching between them after all this time, but holding her mother, feeling the boniness of her spine, her soft, distended stomach, noting her wiry grey hair, Grace was astonished to feel little other than tremendous sadness.
‘Come and see my room!’ Sally disengaged, tugging on Grace’s arm. ‘I have a picture of you on my wall.’
‘You do?’ Grace was momentarily thrilled, reaching the room to find an old photograph of Grace as a child with Sally, one she didn’t even know her mother still had, blu-tacked to the faded yellow walls of a room that contained three iron single beds and three lockers, each carefully locked.
‘See?’ Sally said, proudly pointing out her room. ‘There you are. And there I am.’ She moved closer to the picture. ‘Not ageing so well, but I’m not running around America without a care in the world, am I?’
‘You look well,’ said Grace. ‘I have spent a long time hoping to find you. I didn’t know about this hostel. I’m glad I now know
Similar Books
