Fortuitous

My mom found me huddled behind the couch
After my dad kicked my brother out.
She asked me if I saw what they did
Or if I heard them yelling.
I nodded once without looking at her
And she sighed heavily.
Without thinking,
I told her I was sorry.

Before I realized what was happening,
I could smell the salt in the air
And feel the tears fall down my face.

She sighed once again.
She asked me why I was crying.
I told her that I didn’t know.

She gave me a something that
I could only describe as
The Mom Silence.

It’s that terrifying absence of sound
That moms give to their children
When they’re upset.
And the kids are just so desperate
To hear her say anything,
Even if it’s a scolding.

But all she gives them
Is
The
Silence.

She asked me if I was crying because
Of my father and brother
And I said I didn’t know.

She told me that I cried a lot
And I told her that I was sorry.
She furrowed her eyebrows,
Took a sip of her margarita,
And said that I said
“I’m sorry”
and
“I don’t know”
a lot.

So I told her I was sorry.

She asked me if I was this apologetic
Around Brian.
And I didn’t say anything.

She sighed once again and told me something
Rather daunting.

“Maybe you’d look happier if you would
Stop saying ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I don’t know’ so often.”

So I gave her the Daughter Silence.