Ten Minutes Later – Camilla.
McNeal Residence | Brindleton Bay.
Camilla finished her breakfast then went straight to washing her dishes. Even though it was just one plate and one glass, she knew that leaving them would’ve been yet another strike against her in Bridgette’s Book of Everything Camilla Does Wrong. She opened the cabinet over the sink looking for the “plates section” but it wasn’t there. Apparently, they had done some reorganizing in the kitchen since the last time she visited.
Camilla: Mama, did you move the plates?
Bridgette: [walks over] Yes, I did.
Camilla: [looks around] So, where are they?
Bridgette: In the plates cabinet.
Camilla: I know but, where is the plates cabinet? It’s not over the sink anymore.
Bridgette, sarcastic: Well Cami, you would know where to find it if you bothered to come home more than two or three times a year.
Camilla, annoyed: I’m here now so I don’t see why you’re making a big deal about it.
Bridgette, continued sarcasm: Oh in that case, I guess we should be grateful that you were able to clear your schedule and grace us with your presence, huh?
Camilla knew exactly where this was headed. Straight into an argument she wasn’t going to win, so for her own sanity, she took herself out of it before it could even get started.
Camilla, angry: Okay, whatever, Mama.
She stormed out of the kitchen and off to the first place she could think of, her swing in the backyard. It was tucked into a little spot, furthest away from the house. When she was younger, she would hide out there whenever they got into it. She hated that she was back there, hiding out again, like she was still 16 but even more than that, she hated that things were like this between them.
It’s like everything had to be a battle with her. She was never satisfied with anything she did. Nothing was ever good enough. If she wasn’t critiquing every little thing, she was extremely sarcastic or just downright mean. This is how she chose to treat her only daughter.
Camilla, softly: I could never treat my daughter like this.
She would be better with her child. She knew it. Make sure she always knew she was loved and that she was good enough. She would be a great mom. At least she would’ve been … The thought of that made her sadder than she wanted it too. Missing a baby she didn’t want was something she didn’t know how to explain. It didn’t make any sense, not to her anyway. Like a mix of relief and grief all in one. She wiped her face, trying to push those feelings aside. It was just another thing she needed to get over.