[mad_muses] A Place For My Head...
But people have problems that are worse than mine//I don't want you to think I'm complainin' all the time//And I wish that everyone would go and shut their mouth//I'm not strong enough to deal with this. ~The Wreckers
It was all swelling up around him. The arguing, the slamming doors, and the looks he got that said he should fix it all.
When at the end of every day, he was the one who lay in that house and listened to his mother cry herself to sleep. Again. And every damn time it took him back to being a little boy, in the year after his father left, when she cried every night. When he had tried so hard to give her hugs and to help her, but nothing would help.
Now he was older, and while he knew those things wouldn't help, he was still there. He took care of the house, the bills, and did her shopping. He made her meals and washed her clothes. He dragged her out of the house to...get her to go anywhere. He told her she was beautiful and wonderful, and didn't mention his father.
His father who stayed in town for a couple weeks, wanting to finalize everything, before he was gone again. Gone to his real life with his real family.
And in his wake Randall's mother fell apart again. His sisters hung around, sad and arguing. Or they stayed away for days, leaving him to care for their mother alone.
Amidst it all Randall was hurting too, but no one stopped to notice. They all wanted him to take care of them. They wanted him to deal with his father. They never stopped to look at him and see the dark circles under his eyes, or the wrinkles popping up on his forehead and temples. No one was there in the middle of the night when he lay awake unable to sleep, and they ridiculed him for escaping home to spend a single night, Valentine's Day, with Anna. With the one person who didn't expect him to make it all better with a wave of his hand.
He had hoped seeing her would refresh him, but it only made him more reluctant to go home. He had never before been reluctant to go home and see his family.
He only got more exhausted, more frustrated, and found more resentment. He couldn't fix it. He couldn't do anything. His father had walked out on all of them, ditched all of them for a new family, and it hurt him too. And every day that he had to hear the arguing, and the crying, the noises only got louder and harder to bear.
He was grinding his teeth, rubbing tread marks into his nose. And he pushed all of it down, as deep as he could get it, because they needed him. Because he loved them, and he was supposed to be there to take care of them.
***
"Damnit Erin, get the hell off my back!" Andrea's voice came thundering through the house as she walked in the front door.
"I'm not on your back!"
"You are, are you're pissin' me off! Don't you have a husband to annoy?"
"Yeah, I do, who the hell do you have? Oh right, no one!"
His jaw tightened until it ached. His fingers pushed into the sides of his forehead, holding off the headache that was approaching.
The girls came into the kitchen where he was sitting down. "Randy, did you take Mom's car to the shop today?" Erin asked immediately.
"No," he said quietly, from where he sat at the table.
She set a hand on her hip and glared at him. "You were supposed to do that today. It needed an inspection last week."
"I was busy," he replied, not looking up at her.
"With what?"
Andrea slammed the refrigerator door shut. "There's no milk."
"I know," Randall said tightly.
"How can we not have milk?" Andrea asked, at the same time Erin continued fussing at him.
"You realize if the car doesn't get inspected before the end of the week-"
"I can't sleep with all this racket." Their mom appeared in the doorway of the kitchen looking them all over.
"I'm sorry, Mom," both girls said, concern falling over their faces.
"Randy will make you some tea," Andrea offered.
"Yeah, c'mon, Mom. Go back to bed." Erin nodded, already looking away.
Randall looked between his sisters, then shook his head and got to his feet. "Andy, make some tea," he said. Then he went to his mom and put his arm around her. "I'll take you back to bed," he said quietly, kissing the top of her head. He glared over at Erin who had avoiding spending any time alone with their mother since he had arrived.
"Thank you, honey," his mother said, leaning into him.
He only nodded, guiding her back to her room, where he helped her into bed and pulled the covers over her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing her back. He looked over at her dresser where a picture of himself and Frankie sat. His heart ached with how much he missed his son. He'd been gone for a month already.
"Mom..."
"Hmm?"
"I-I have to go home," he said slowly, quietly. It hurt him to say the words, because he knew he'd be disappointing her.
She turned in the bed to look up at him, her sad eyes watering up. "You're leaving me?"
"No, Mom. I just...I have things I need to do at home. I need to work and see Frankie." He leaned in to kiss her forehead. "But I'll be back soon. I'll come home for a weekend and check up on everything. And I'll call. And Erin and Andy will be here."
"But...I feel so much better having you here." She started to sit up.
"I know Mom," his voice shook. "I'm sorry. I...I have my life back in New York. Not here." He hated the way it sounded, but it was true. And if he had to stay there much longer, with all that pressure, he was going to crack wide open. He was a terrible son. A good son could stay and take care of it all while keeping it together.
She stiffened and nodded. "I see." She started to move away from him and lay on her side.
"I know it's hard right now, but...I.."
"You don't have to explain, Randall. It's fine. You have your life to get back to." Her back was to him completely. He ran his hand over his face.
"I'll....call..." he tried again. She didn't respond. He sat there a moment longer before getting to his feet. "I'll see you soon, Mom..." When she still didn't reply he headed for the door, stopping to look back at her. "I love you." Then he headed down the hall and up the stairs for his old bedroom.
It didn't take him long to throw everything into his bag and go back downstairs. On his way back to the kitchen he grabbed up a few things here and there to stuff into his bag and zipped it up. He came to a stop in the kitchen in front of his sisters and they looked up at him.
"I'm going home. You two need to take care of Mom."
There was a long moment of silence, before Erin glared at him. "Are you shitting me? You're bailing?"
"Yeah," he muttered, looking to his feet. "I"m bailing."
"Wait.." Andrea started towards him. "What are we supposed to do without you here? How are we supposed to..."
"You're a part of this family!" Erin shouted, also getting to her feet. "You have to be here when you're needed!"
"I can't." He looked up to meet his older sister's eyes. "I know I'm needed, but I can't be here. I need something, too, Erin. I can't sit here and fix Mom's depression. I can't make you stop being so angry, and I can't...." He shook his head. "I can't be here anymore. I'm going home."
The girls were quiet, staring at him without another word. He stood with them for awhile longer before turning and making his way for the door.
"You're being selfish," Erin called after him. His eyes closed as he opened the front door. He was being selfish. He knew that. He was terrible, and he felt terrible, but he couldn't breathe there and he needed to breathe.
He let the screen door slap closed behind him as he moved down the front porch and towards his car. Each step from the house made him feel worse not better. He got in his car and backed out the drive, then turned down the road. He was tired. He was tired, and just wanted to go home.
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It was all swelling up around him. The arguing, the slamming doors, and the looks he got that said he should fix it all.
When at the end of every day, he was the one who lay in that house and listened to his mother cry herself to sleep. Again. And every damn time it took him back to being a little boy, in the year after his father left, when she cried every night. When he had tried so hard to give her hugs and to help her, but nothing would help.
Now he was older, and while he knew those things wouldn't help, he was still there. He took care of the house, the bills, and did her shopping. He made her meals and washed her clothes. He dragged her out of the house to...get her to go anywhere. He told her she was beautiful and wonderful, and didn't mention his father.
His father who stayed in town for a couple weeks, wanting to finalize everything, before he was gone again. Gone to his real life with his real family.
And in his wake Randall's mother fell apart again. His sisters hung around, sad and arguing. Or they stayed away for days, leaving him to care for their mother alone.
Amidst it all Randall was hurting too, but no one stopped to notice. They all wanted him to take care of them. They wanted him to deal with his father. They never stopped to look at him and see the dark circles under his eyes, or the wrinkles popping up on his forehead and temples. No one was there in the middle of the night when he lay awake unable to sleep, and they ridiculed him for escaping home to spend a single night, Valentine's Day, with Anna. With the one person who didn't expect him to make it all better with a wave of his hand.
He had hoped seeing her would refresh him, but it only made him more reluctant to go home. He had never before been reluctant to go home and see his family.
He only got more exhausted, more frustrated, and found more resentment. He couldn't fix it. He couldn't do anything. His father had walked out on all of them, ditched all of them for a new family, and it hurt him too. And every day that he had to hear the arguing, and the crying, the noises only got louder and harder to bear.
He was grinding his teeth, rubbing tread marks into his nose. And he pushed all of it down, as deep as he could get it, because they needed him. Because he loved them, and he was supposed to be there to take care of them.
***
"Damnit Erin, get the hell off my back!" Andrea's voice came thundering through the house as she walked in the front door.
"I'm not on your back!"
"You are, are you're pissin' me off! Don't you have a husband to annoy?"
"Yeah, I do, who the hell do you have? Oh right, no one!"
His jaw tightened until it ached. His fingers pushed into the sides of his forehead, holding off the headache that was approaching.
The girls came into the kitchen where he was sitting down. "Randy, did you take Mom's car to the shop today?" Erin asked immediately.
"No," he said quietly, from where he sat at the table.
She set a hand on her hip and glared at him. "You were supposed to do that today. It needed an inspection last week."
"I was busy," he replied, not looking up at her.
"With what?"
Andrea slammed the refrigerator door shut. "There's no milk."
"I know," Randall said tightly.
"How can we not have milk?" Andrea asked, at the same time Erin continued fussing at him.
"You realize if the car doesn't get inspected before the end of the week-"
"I can't sleep with all this racket." Their mom appeared in the doorway of the kitchen looking them all over.
"I'm sorry, Mom," both girls said, concern falling over their faces.
"Randy will make you some tea," Andrea offered.
"Yeah, c'mon, Mom. Go back to bed." Erin nodded, already looking away.
Randall looked between his sisters, then shook his head and got to his feet. "Andy, make some tea," he said. Then he went to his mom and put his arm around her. "I'll take you back to bed," he said quietly, kissing the top of her head. He glared over at Erin who had avoiding spending any time alone with their mother since he had arrived.
"Thank you, honey," his mother said, leaning into him.
He only nodded, guiding her back to her room, where he helped her into bed and pulled the covers over her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing her back. He looked over at her dresser where a picture of himself and Frankie sat. His heart ached with how much he missed his son. He'd been gone for a month already.
"Mom..."
"Hmm?"
"I-I have to go home," he said slowly, quietly. It hurt him to say the words, because he knew he'd be disappointing her.
She turned in the bed to look up at him, her sad eyes watering up. "You're leaving me?"
"No, Mom. I just...I have things I need to do at home. I need to work and see Frankie." He leaned in to kiss her forehead. "But I'll be back soon. I'll come home for a weekend and check up on everything. And I'll call. And Erin and Andy will be here."
"But...I feel so much better having you here." She started to sit up.
"I know Mom," his voice shook. "I'm sorry. I...I have my life back in New York. Not here." He hated the way it sounded, but it was true. And if he had to stay there much longer, with all that pressure, he was going to crack wide open. He was a terrible son. A good son could stay and take care of it all while keeping it together.
She stiffened and nodded. "I see." She started to move away from him and lay on her side.
"I know it's hard right now, but...I.."
"You don't have to explain, Randall. It's fine. You have your life to get back to." Her back was to him completely. He ran his hand over his face.
"I'll....call..." he tried again. She didn't respond. He sat there a moment longer before getting to his feet. "I'll see you soon, Mom..." When she still didn't reply he headed for the door, stopping to look back at her. "I love you." Then he headed down the hall and up the stairs for his old bedroom.
It didn't take him long to throw everything into his bag and go back downstairs. On his way back to the kitchen he grabbed up a few things here and there to stuff into his bag and zipped it up. He came to a stop in the kitchen in front of his sisters and they looked up at him.
"I'm going home. You two need to take care of Mom."
There was a long moment of silence, before Erin glared at him. "Are you shitting me? You're bailing?"
"Yeah," he muttered, looking to his feet. "I"m bailing."
"Wait.." Andrea started towards him. "What are we supposed to do without you here? How are we supposed to..."
"You're a part of this family!" Erin shouted, also getting to her feet. "You have to be here when you're needed!"
"I can't." He looked up to meet his older sister's eyes. "I know I'm needed, but I can't be here. I need something, too, Erin. I can't sit here and fix Mom's depression. I can't make you stop being so angry, and I can't...." He shook his head. "I can't be here anymore. I'm going home."
The girls were quiet, staring at him without another word. He stood with them for awhile longer before turning and making his way for the door.
"You're being selfish," Erin called after him. His eyes closed as he opened the front door. He was being selfish. He knew that. He was terrible, and he felt terrible, but he couldn't breathe there and he needed to breathe.
He let the screen door slap closed behind him as he moved down the front porch and towards his car. Each step from the house made him feel worse not better. He got in his car and backed out the drive, then turned down the road. He was tired. He was tired, and just wanted to go home.
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