But when I got there I realized just how hard it was going to be to find her. Airports were huge and I didn’t even know what flight she would be on, or where she was going. So after 20 minutes of wandering around aimlessly, I was beginning to think my whole plan was stupid. But then I spotted a stack of three suitcases, a duffel bag, and a large designer purse, which I quickly recognized as being my mother’s stuff. My family wasn’t exactly rich, but we had enough money for higher-end purchases, which delighted my mother.

She was a very materialistic person, and her stuff was far more valuable to her than other things- even her own daughter it seemed. She overpacked for every single trip we’d ever gone on and loved to buy from luxury or expensive brands. And she was the kind of person who paid thousands of dollars to have her car flown across the country with her, which explained why she’d had it here in the first place.

My mom was sitting across from her large pile of luggage, waiting to board the plane and I watched her for a moment, waiting to see if she’d notice me. She didn’t. So before I could change my mind, I screwed up my courage and walked over to her. “Mom,” I said, trying to make my voice sound assertive.

“Hello, dear,” she told me distractedly, not bothering to bring her gaze away from the screen of her phone. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well, after I missed dinner I figured you wouldn’t want to talk to me again.” After that, I thought I heard her mumble something else under her breath, which sounded like, “Which would be a relief.”

I hadn’t been expecting her to say anything like that so it took a moment for me to think of a reply. “You missed dinner on purpose?”

“Not exactly on purpose, no…” she said slowly, finally looking up from her phone. “I just didn’t feel up to it after all.”

“You didn’t feel up to talking to your daughter?” I questioned.

“Mm, yes, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”

“And why didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t be coming?” I demanded, angry now. She sighed as if annoyed with me, but I continued before she could answer. “I waited for you, Mom! I was sitting outside in the rain for hours! And you didn’t care enough to inform me that it was for nothing? I had to track you down at the airport?”

“It’s not my fault if you were ignorant enough to go through all that trouble.”

I didn’t know what to say now. I’d spent the last year thinking that my mom was just too wounded from what had happened to answer my calls or texts, but I was beginning to realize that she’d done it on purpose. Everything she’d done that had hurt me had been on purpose. And the shock of that made me dizzy. “I can’t believe you,” I scoffed.

“Me?” she asked, feigning confusion. “You’re the one who left your grieving mother alone in the house.”

“I didn’t leave you!” I shouted. “You kicked me out!” I felt tears on my cheeks now. “You told me that you couldn’t bear to have me around the house, so you sent me away to college without so much as a goodbye! Didn’t it ever occur to you that I was grieving too? That maybe I needed my mom?” I was sobbing hard now, but still shouting at my mom, who hardly seemed bothered.

A security guard even came over to me with a worried look on his face. “Everything okay over here, Ma’am?” he asked, looking back and forth between my mom and me.

“Fine,” I mumbled, taking a step closer to my mother and waiting for him to leave again.

“Do you care at all?” I asked her, forcing myself to lower my voice. “Do you care that I’ve tried to contact you for over a  year and you haven’t answered me once? Not even to let me know you’re alright? I was worried about you, Mom. And now you’re telling me you never thought about me at all.”

“Well I brought you a whole box of your stuff and you didn’t even thank me.”

“Oh, right,” I said sarcastically. “You brought me a box that was apparently cluttering up your house- the house that I guess I’m never allowed back into- and you told me that it was less expensive for you to give it to me in person than to mail it. Mother of the year.” Although when I said it out loud, her whole story didn’t even make sense to me. She wasn’t the type of person who cared much about expenses, as long as it was easier for her, and driving all the way to my college didn’t seem easier, even if she did happen to have a flight here.

My mom hardly responded to what I’d said, instead telling me, “If you’re done bothering me, I have a plane to board.”

There wasn’t even a line to board the plane yet, but I knew she was trying to dismiss me, and I was done talking to her anyway. So I began walking away, but then stopped and said over my shoulder, “Bye, Mom. I don’t know if I’ll see you again, but just so you know, I love you.” She didn’t answer as I turned away again and walked slowly back through the airport.

Maybe it was because I finally realized it didn’t help. Maybe it was because I’d already worn myself out last night. Maybe it was because I wanted to be composed when I saw Caitlin and Josie soon. But for whatever reason, I didn’t cry. I wasn’t okay by any means, but instead of being a sad or angry mess, I was more of an emotionless zombie. I drove calmly, going exactly the speed limit. I parked and locked the car, then took steady and deliberate steps as I went to return the keys to Caitlin.

It was around 12:30 now, and I hadn’t had breakfast. So I went to my favorite on-campus restaurant. It was a Japanese place, and I got the same noodle dish that I always did. I ate it alone at a table while I let my mind process everything that had happened. My mom had come to my college to give me a box filled with stuff- that I realized was still tucked under my bed unopened- but she said it had been because it had saved her money. I’d asked her to meet me for dinner, and she’d agreed, but then never showed. I’d managed to find her at the airport and she’d said that she hadn’t come to dinner on purpose. She also hadn’t shown much emotion no matter what I said to her.

I was still upset, but more than that, I was confused now. My mom had never been the nicest person to me, but she’d never been outright mean. My dad had told Nate and I that her occasional coldness to us had been because she’d never really wanted kids. But these past few days she had been more than cold. She’d been icy and cruel. I didn’t know my mom very well, even after living with her for 18 years, but it almost seemed like she’d had a different reason for coming here. And it was something that was making her upset. Because while her anger had been directed at me, I couldn’t think of anything she could actually be angry at me for, despite her accusations. 

I was still sitting at the table long after I had finished my lunch, just trying to figure it out. But each time I replayed the conversations in my head, it felt like a slap to my face, and soon I was crying again. I cursed under my breath; I had preferred being emotionless. But once the tears came, they wouldn’t stop, so I decided to go back to my dorm room and find a distraction instead of continuing to think about it.