Daughter of Her Mother’s Making
“I think you make a good blond. It’s better than that mousey color you usually sprout,” remarked the mother to her daughter, rubbing her freshly dyed hair with a stained towel.
“What am I this time?” Ryan, the daughter, asked hesitantly.
“What you should have been all along:” came the scolding reply, “popular.”
“Can’t I just be myself? What’s wrong with just being me for once?” whined Ryan, knowing the answer.
Alma Bixby shot a cold look at her adopted child before going back to drying her hair and slowly explaining, “If you want to be yourself you might as well be your mother. Do you really want to do that to me? I’ve raised you as my own. I’ve given you everything. I didn’t have to take you in you know. I could’ve just let you stay out on the street right next to that woman that gave birth to you. Is that what you would have rather had me do?”
Ryan sighed silently in defeat, “No, Mother. You know that I’m grateful for all that you’ve done for me. I wouldn’t be here without you. I know that. I just wish I could be myself for once, but I understand why I can’t be. I’m sorry for upsetting you. I won’t ask again.” She hugged Alma and left the bathroom where her “mother” was washing the rest of the hair dye down the drain.
She padded across the old, beige shag carpet of the double wide her mom had found online when they decided on the destination of their annual move. The legal pad her mother had mentioned before the dye job was sitting on the kitchen counter. Picking it up, Ryan saw the first thing scrawled on the top of the first page was a name: Heather. This is what she would be known as by everyone she met from now until they moved again.
The next thing she noticed was that her “father”, Charles, was a cop who was killed in action when she was three. Being so young created a good excuse for not knowing much about him. Alma was now Dawn, a cashier at Bill’s Hardware. They were only married for a short while before “Heather” was born.
Alma leaned on the counter next to Ryan. “You’re going to have to put in a little more effort this time around.”
“What do you mean? What can I do?” Ryan asked hopefully, always eager to please.
“You’re going to participate. You’re going to be involved and date and go out with your friends.” She paused looking at Ryan with unnecessary hardness, “You will have friends,
Heather, popular friends. As many as you can manage without screwing up.”
“I can do that!” Ryan bolted from the kitchen into her bedroom.
*
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A ball of purple silk hit the small bed situated against the wall before sliding to the floor. Ryan threw yet another shirt on top of the growing pile on her floor and bed. After sifting through her meager pile of shirts over and over again, she finally decided on a simple gray floral tank top. Then, she picked out her most flattering jeans and her black pair of the ever popular slipper shoes.
*
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Ryan laid in her bed staring at her ugly popcorn ceiling. She hadn't slept a wink all night. She knew that her mother was going to be upset with her for not sleeping. “I shouldn’t even get nervous anymore,” she told the early morning sun fighting its way through the room’s only dingy window. She rolled out of bed and hurried to the shower before her mother could see her disheveled appearance.
After her shower, Ryan grabbed her towel and dried off as quickly as she could. She knew she was going to have to hurry. She could already feel her mother breathing down her neck, and Alma wasn’t even out of her own bed yet. She blow dried her hair and ran a quick comb through her locks. Ryan applied her makeup carefully before going back to her room to put on the clothes she laid out the night before. She was completely ready before Alma even had a chance to finish her shower.
*
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Ryan had a feeling that this was going to be her best first day yet. She walked into her new high school with a full twenty minutes until the first bell. Her schedule had been mailed to her earlier that week, so all she had to do was find her locker. It took her a surprisingly short time to figure out her way around the school. It was much smaller than she had expected. Most of the students had arrived by the time she had her locker set up. Looking around, Ryan realized that in all four grades there couldn’t have been two hundred students total.
A dull, droning buzz took her out of her awestruck trance. She looked at the paper in her hand. “I guess I’m going to Government,” Ryan mumbled to herself as she pushed her locker shut.
“Did you say something?” a girl, her locker neighbor, asked in an impossibly small voice.
“What? Oh, sorry. No. I was talking to myself.” Ryan could've hit herself. Talking to herself? Did she really just announce that to the first person she talked to? Geez people were going to be talking about her enough by lunch in a school this size without her making a complete fool of herself.
“It’s ok. I won’t tell anyone,” the girl winked at Ryan as she turned away. “Oh! I’m Lumen by the way,” she said whipping back around to face her.
“I’m Heather,” Ryan stuck out her hand and shook Lumen’s. “and obviously new,” she added. “Do you know where Government is?”
“Sure do. Follow me,” Lumen took off down the hall at a walk that Ryan had to jog to keep up with. “Here we are,” she chirped, opening the door and sweeping her arm theatrically.
“Thanks,” Ryan smiled at her.
“No problem! See ya!” With that Lumen took off back down the hall at her ground devouring walk.
Ryan walked into the classroom. All eyes were on her, the new kid. She spotted an empty seat along the far wall and headed that way. The buzz sounded again just as she sat down.
“I’m guessing you’re Heather?” Mrs. Stuko’s eyes bored into Ryan. “Don’t make a habit of cutting it so close to the bell.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know where I was going,” Ryan said, trying to make herself as small as possible. She was getting scolded in her first class on her first day. Great.
Lumen found her for lunch. They sat outside with her group of friends. She actually liked them a lot. That was a clear indication that her mother definitely would not. She was going to hate having to make different friends when she already got along with these ones so well. The buzz came again, and Ryan made sure she made it to her next class with plenty of time.
*
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“How did school go?” Alma called from the kitchen when she heard the front door open.
“It was pretty good. I made some friends,” Ryan replied when she made it into the kitchen where her mother was stirring a pot on the stove.
“Tell me about them,” Alma didn’t look up from the pot. She already knew she wasn’t going to approve.
“My locker is right next to this girl named Lumen. She’s really nice. I ate lunch with her and her friends. They all seem pretty cool.”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” Alma let out an exasperated sigh. “You promised me you were going to try. I wouldn’t call ‘nice’ trying.”
“I just kind of scoped things out today. Tomorrow I’ll get to know more people. Lumen was just the first person to talk to me, and I didn’t want to look weird by sitting alone at lunch. I never planned on really spending that much time with them,” Ryan lied. She tried her hardest to sound nonchalant, but the look her mother shot her way told her that she wasn’t convinced.
*
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The next few weeks of school were rough for Ryan. She was still getting used to being called Heather, so a few times she had people standing right next to her, trying to get her attention. She was sure that more than one person thought there was something seriously wrong with her.
She tried talking to the kids her mother would approve of, but she kept gravitating towards Lumen and her friends. She really was trying. More than anything, Ryan hated disappointing Alma. She was able to manage making a few more friends but not enough to get her mother off her back. Also, she couldn’t get the courage to talk to any guys outside of Lumen’s group which posed a serious problem with her mother who felt that she should be at least close to a boyfriend by now, the third week.
Alma’s disappointment with her daughter was growing by the day. Ryan should’ve been able to do better than this. They had done this enough that she seriously thought that Ryan would fall into her roles better, faster. Alma didn’t see why this was so difficult for Ryan.
“You obviously don’t care about this enough, about me enough,” she would tell Ryan.
“I’m trying. I really am. Its just different here. The people are different. I guess I’ll have to try another way. I can do this right,” Ryan begged. She knew she was losing the battle.
“You have two weeks. We’ll have to leave if you can’t get your act together by then,” Alma replied ending the conversation. Ryan didn’t know it but plans were already being made for the move.
*
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Those two weeks flew by. Ryan knew that she was never going to be able to live up to her mother’s expectations for this character, so she spent all the time she could with Lumen and her other friends. It killed her to know that she was going to have to give them up, but she knew that she didn’t have a choice.
In those two weeks, Ryan considered telling Lumen what was really going on. She just didn’t feel right putting all of that on her even if she was the closest friend she ever had. She also couldn’t do that to Alma. As much as she resented her adoptive mother and what she was doing to her she just couldn’t betray her.
Leaving school on that last day was the hardest thing Ryan had ever done. She met Lumen at their lockers after last hour like always. Lumen was just about to leave when Ryan pulled her into a hug.
“I just wanted to let you know how much you mean to me,” she explained choking back tears.
“Are you ok, Heather? You’ve been acting weird all day,” Lumen asked.
“I’m fine. I just wanted you to know. I’ve never had a friend like you before. Promise me you’ll never forget about me,” Ryan said back.
“Of course I won’t. Geez you’re a weird kid,” Lumen replied trying to lighten the mood.
“Ok, good. Bye,” Ryan gave Lumen a small, sad smile before turning back to her open locker.
“See ya,” Lumen walked out the front doors of the school still confused as Ryan emptied her locker into her bag and left the school for the last time.
*
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“I think dark hair looks good on you,” Alma told her daughter as she blow dried her hair.
“What will I be this time?” Ryan asked with absolutely no interest at all.
“Oh cheer up! You get to start over. This will be better than last time. That was a fluke. You just aren’t ready for a small school yet,” Alma told her daughter encouragingly.
“So what am I this time?” Ryan asked again.
“I haven’t decided yet,” came the reply. “Maybe we’ll try making you a theater buff or something else creative. We haven’t done anything like that in a while.”