Winter's first winds swept over campus, shaking a handful of remaining leaves from the dry trees. Mary shivered, her sweater useless against the wind. Despite the cold, Mary's palms were damp. She tapped the table and kept looking.
How would her grown-up Susie take the news? Mary had put it off for too long. For better or worse, she would tell her daughter today.
Susie looked as cheerful as ever when she appeared. She skipped away from her girlfriends and jumped down across the bench. She radiated enthusiasm as she related the latest gossip from her chemistry lab. Susie was so certain the dizzy prima donna who sat at the front was doing the lecturer. It was awesome, as all the girls thought the balding stiff never got any.
Mary laughed. Susie had a way of taking her own concerns away. She waited for a natural break in the conversation, feeling her heart in her throat.
"Susie?"
Susie's smile faded. "What's up? Is something wrong?"
"Not exactly. I've just got some news."
"Fire away. I'm all ears, well so to speak anyway," Susie replied with a grin.
"Susie, this is going to be very hard for you to understand. Please give me a chance to explain."
Susie's face straightened. "Sure."
"Susie, your mother did not die when you were three."
Susie's mouth dropped. "Mary..."
"Stop Susie. Let me finish."
Susie bit her bottom lip, fighting back words colder than the weather. Finally she nodded.
"Susie, I know your mother didn't die because I'm your mother. I've spent nearly twenty years looking for you."
"Is this some kind of sick joke? Cause it ain't funny."
Mary gestured with her palms. She knew this would be difficult. "I'm afraid not. Your father ran off with you. The police, private investigators... nobody could find you."
Susie gazed into space. Mary felt a glimmer of hope. Susie had a fiery temper at the best of times. She looked so calm.
Susie turned, her eyes wet. "Oh this is just A-grade isn't it? My mother is dead. Got it? Live your own damn delusions but don't involve me."
Mary didn't wipe the tears from her face as she watched her daughter walk away. Somehow the warmth felt good.
Marty was looking her funny again. He always did that when she smoked too much. Sarah offered her another drag. Susie couldn't say no once she started. Shame they were out of tequila again. James Cook Tavern paid better than college ever had, but barely enough to cover the rent.
For a moment the fog cleared. She watched from the outside. Seven people sharing a dilapidated house in the inner-city. Drinking and smoking seven nights a week. How long could she do it? What would her mother think? No, Mary, she hated when she slipped. It hurt too much.
Susie giggled as she took another puff, burying her head in the smoke-filled milk carton. The room seemed so damn funny. Something about the walls. Yes, they were yellow. God that was hilarious.
She laughed out loud, grabbing another fistful of corn chips. They tasted so much better on the way down.
Mary knocked on the door again. Despite two years of grime covering the windows, she could see scattered bodies on the lounge floor. Obviously ten in the morning was a little early for these people.
A man opened the door, early twenties, three-day growth and eyes that hadn't seen the morning sun for weeks.
"Where is Susie?"
He blinked, rubbing his forehead. "Out the back with Mar- Hey, who are you anyway?"
"I'm her mother. Now let me in. I need to speak with Susie right now."
The man scratched his chin. He smelt worst than he looked. "I dunno. I'd better go ask her first."
"Listen, if you don't let me in now I'll have the police on your door in thirty minutes. I'm sure they'll find the smell of this place pretty interesting."
"Hey, settle it down. I don't want no cops here. Second door down the corridor. And keep the noise down. People are trying to sleep."
Mary stepped over prone bodies and down the dimly-lit corridor. The house was worse than she'd heard. She reached the second door, unsurprised that it didn't lock. She held her breath and pushed.
Susie looked like a heroin model. Her hair was a bird's nest of knots, her blanched skin turning Mary's stomach. She lay on top of the sheets on a single bed, wearing only panties and an oversized Marilyn Manson t-shirt. A burly tattooed man, probably a recent recipient of her daughter's charms, was snoring on the floor clad only in his boxers. At least Susie got the bed.
Mary nudged the man with her foot. Her stirred slowly. She prodded more urgently. "Get out. Now."
"What the .. What do you want?"
"I'm Susie's mother. I need to speak to her. Alone."
Susie groaned, rubbing her head. "Oh shit. Marty, I think you'd better leave. Please."
Marty staggered to his feet and shuffled out. "Sure, whatever. Geez, what does it take to get some sleep around here?"
Susie stood up and looked Mary right in the eye. "I don't know what you think you're doing here. I'm old enough to do whatever I want."
"Susie. I know you don't want to believe it, but I'm your mother, and I love you. You're killing me as well as yourself."
"My mother left my life sixteen stinking years ago. Whether you gave birth to me or not, you didn't raise me. How can you just come back and think everything will be ok?"
Mary placed her hand on Susie's shoulder, ignoring her flinch. "I don't think everything is ok honey. I have so much missed time to make up for. Please give me a chance."
Susie glowered, caught in a tidal wave of emotions. Her voice quivered as she spat, "What do you care? You could have found me sooner. You don't give a rats."
"Susie Maroni, stop that this instant! I've had enough of this nonsense."
Susie froze. A thunderbolt of recognition shocked her to the core. She opened her mouth but no words escaped.
Mary sat down on the bed, pulling her errant daughter over her lap. Mary pulled the t-shirt over Susie's panties and brought her hand down sharply. Susie gasped in surprise. This was happening way too fast.
Susie's bottom was beginning to sting. Susie twisted and cried out, but nobody stirred despite the crisp spanks that filled the air. To make matters worse Mary scolded her like a six-year old, stinging words that were all too true.
Mary pulled her daughter's skimpy panties over her hips. She reached for the hairbrush on the bedside table. Susie pleaded. "Please, not the brush..."
Unfortunately for poor Susie, Mary thought a liberal dose of the brush was exactly what was called for. She sighed, pinning Susie's arm behind her. This wasn't easy. She brought the brush down on her daughter's bottom, holding little back.
It took longer than it should have. Susie had too many pent up emotions. Finally, after a couple of dozen sharp swats from the brush, she heard soft crying. Another dozen and Susie was sobbing, reduced to a child with a bright red bottom. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry mummy."
Mary put the brush aside. She drew her sniffling daughter up into her arms. "I hate doing that and I wish I could promise that was the last time, but I can't."
Susie giggled through her sniffles. "Believe me, so do I, but it won't be...Mum."
For long minutes they held each other, lost in that world where it isn't possible to get close enough.
Susie beamed as she took the certificate from the Dean - "Susie Maroni, Bachelor of Arts, 2002". It felt good to have her old name back. She smiled for the photos, unable to resist winking at her mother and boyfriend of two years standing tall and proud near the front. How they'd fought for those seats!
She ran from the stage, eager for hugs and kisses. A degree, a loving boyfriend, a mother who was her closest friend and mentor, what more could a girl want?