Beautiful Disaster

I don't want to hear your excuses momma.

Layla's POV

I drove down the road toward my house thinking about my conversation with Leland. I still felt conflicted. I wanted to talk to my mother but after what she said I just couldn't do it. I didn't know that someone could be so...selfish.

Pulling into the driveway I see my father waiting on my as I open the garage door. I hope he's not mad that I left. I step out of the jeep and walk toward the front door.

"I just had to get out for a little while." I say looking down at my feet. He just pulls me into a hug and I wrap my arms around him. "It's okay. I understand"

"I don't think you do dad. You never had to question your mothers motives. And I doubt you would ever hear her say the things my mother said"

"You heard that huh?" he says letting me walk past him into the kitchen. "Yes" I say without turning around to face him. I just make my way to the kitchen and open the fridge. I'm not really looking for anything, just stalling because I don't want to talk about it.

"I'm sorry that you have to be in the middle of this." My dad says sitting down at the counter.

I just shake my head and tell him "I'm sorry we both have to be in the middle of this dad. Neither of us asked for it." Pouring something to drink I sit down beside him at the counter. We sit in a comfortable silence, not knowing what to say or do next.

I turn my head to look at my dad. "What are you going to do now? Are you getting divorced?" I ask, not wanting to know the answer.

"Well,.." he starts to say, but is interrupted by my mother coming out of their room with a suitcase in tow.

We both turn to look at her. "Layla..."she says

"I don't want to hear your excuses momma, I just cant take it right now." I say in a very bitter tone. I stand up to leave but my fathers hand catches my arm holding me still. I turn toward him saying "What?"

"Layla, she is still your mother. No need to get ugly with her." He says looking down at me.

"Oh, you're on her side now? I just cant win can I?" I say sarcastically, walking past my dad and mom into my room.

I slam my door and the pictures hanging on the wall shake. A few of me and my dad, one of my mom and I when I was about three. I had never questioned her love for me. I guess she just didn't know how to be a mom. Or maybe she didn't want to...or maybe I just didn't realize how bad it was until now.

Laying on my bed I tried to recall any memories I had with my mother. There were a few Christmas's that she might have been happy, or pretending to be. But other than that there wasn't much I could come up with. Why did she even have me? Was it to please my dad, or was it to please my uncle?