She's Not Her Mother

Andrew

“Hey!” Raven cried as I turned out the lights.

Wet footsteps echoed in the space, coming closer to me.

I turned the light on, finding Raven standing just a few feet away, hair dripping and eyes flashing. Without any warning, I gasped. Those bright green eyes, wild with emotion, the long, honey waves and sharp chin.

With each day that passed, Raven looked more and more like her mother.

Maybe that was part of what had made our relationship so hard in the last year. But who the fuck knew?

“What do you want from me?” she demanded, attitude turned up to the max.

I shook my head, more to get ahold of myself than anything else. Raven was not her mother. They were two completely different people. I needed to remember that.

“I should be asking you that,” I answered. “What do you want that you don’t have? Why are you screwing up your life?”

Her arms folded and then quickly unfolded, showing her discomfort. Avoiding my eyes, she snatched her towel from the chair and began to dry her hair vigorously.

“This is your last chance, Raven. Either straighten up or face the consequences. No phone. No car.”

The reaction didn’t come. She just kept drying her hair, acting as if phones and cars weren’t the lifeblood of any and every American teenager.

I fought the urge to pull at my hair. She’d already gotten enough of a rise out of me. Completely dropping my poker face wasn’t an option.

Licking my lips, I closed my eyes. There was one more thing I hadn’t tried, but it was time.

“Do you want to talk to someone? I’ll set you up with a therapist.”

Back turned, her shoulders tensed. “What, like a shrink?” she barked.

My mouth became even drier. “Just someone to talk to.”

“I don’t need meds. I’m not like her.”

She couldn’t have hit closer to my weak spot if she’d tried.

Swallowing hard, I looked for the right words and then realized I’d been doing that for the whole last year. The English language only contained so many options.

“Just… Can you just try to do better? Tomorrow is a new week, all right? It’s a chance to get started off on a new foot.”

Raven kept her back to me, her head hanging low.

“Sure,” she finally said, taking her things and leaving the pool room.

The “sure” had been the most listless it could be. There was no way of telling whether she had absorbed anything I’d said or not.

Burying my face in my hands, I ran my fingers down my cheeks. “Fuck,” I groaned out.

When enough time had passed for Raven to make it up to the second floor, I left the pool room and weaved my way back to my office. The downstairs was dark and silent, the perfect atmosphere for getting some work done.

Closing the door to my office, I settled into the leather chair once more. But try as hard as I might, the words on the computer screen didn’t make any sense. The letters all ran together. All I could think about was Raven.

And Danica.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, there was a chance they were more alike than I had originally thought. Raven was the spitting image of her mother, but it could have been the similarities went beyond just physical.

Ten years. That’s how long it had been since I’d put my wife in the ground. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about her, but at least I didn’t have any regrets. We’d had a good marriage. I’d loved her as much as any man could love a woman. Though I’d always worked hard, Danica had stayed home with Raven, and we always set aside a couple weekends a month for family time.

It was ironic, though. For years, I worried myself sick over Danica’s mental illnesses. Anxiety. Depression. She took medication, went to therapy, meditated—did everything that was recommended.

But that hadn’t stopped the dark bouts from popping up. Several times, I feared she might take her life. In the end, though, it had been a car crash that had done it, sudden and quick, while I was in New York for a meeting and Raven was working on a leaf collage at elementary school.

Those first few years after the accident had been the worst. But, eventually, ten years crept by. Now Raven was almost an adult, preparing to take on the world all on her own. The hardest times were behind us.

Or so I’d thought.

Mental illness ran in families. So why hadn’t I thought to have Raven evaluated before?

I didn’t want to face reality. That was it. Didn’t want to admit that maybe she struggled as much as Danica had.

I shut my eyes and rubbed the lids, locking out the rest of the world. This office was supposed to be a place of focus and productivity. I’d set it up so I could be at home more often. I guess, in a way, it had been successful. Now I really saw how much Raven sought to avoid me.

But I didn’t have time for this kind of bullshit. If Raven needed to see a specialist, then that was the way it was.

One more chance, I promised myself. I’ll give her one more chance.

Another note or call from school and she was headed to see a professional. This wasn’t something I could deal with on my own. I was busy. An entire company counted on me. Distractions, like always, could not be afforded.

Nose to the grindstone, eyes on the prize. Don’t get distracted, don’t let others sway you. That was my way of life, the one I’d taught to my daughter. I didn’t need anyone to tell me it was the right way to live.

For me, there was no other option. There never would be.