I lay there for the rest of the night dozing, not really sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes I relived the last time I saw my mum. It wasn't that she was unloving, hell no, she made it clear that she did love me but couldn't accept the fact that I was a lesbian.
She begged me to date some men, to see if what I was feeling was real. I tried so many times to explain to her, that I had gone through that stage, at high school. Where she begged me once again not to let any boys go 'too far'. I remember laughing and saying I wouldn't. If she only knew why. As hard as I tried to like the boys I used to hang around with they just weren't for me. I mean they were nice guys but I was different. I knew what I felt.
When I left high school and started work, I got invited out with some work colleagues and we went out to some clubs. That was when I witnessed another lifestyle, I just knew that was for me.
Seeing two women kiss on the dance floor, my heart melted. I so wanted to ask another girl out onto the dance floor, but my heart skipped a beat, I was so scared. When I found the courage it was the best thing I ever did. She danced with me, her eyes never leaving mine. She let her hands run up and down my body. I got so aroused.
She took me by the hand and we sat down and talked, well yelled above the music. I never felt so calm and relaxed as I did with her. We laughed and just held hands, and then she kissed me and asked if I would go with her, somewhere more private. I didn't quite know what she meant, but in a 'coat room' with several other couples, she kissed me again and seduced me. The first time I felt another person's hand in my panties any doubt that may have been there evaporated. I came so hard. She giggled. We dated for about six months. It was heaven.
The mistake I made was when my mum asked why I never brought any of my 'boyfriends' home to meet her.
I told her that I didn't have any boyfriends. I can remember her just rolling her eyes. She told me to bring home the boy I was dating then, I can remember so clearly what she said to me, "Every Friday and Saturday night you get all dressed up and go out. You don't get home until after 2 sometimes, so who is the boy that keeps you out so late? I want to meet him,"
Then I made my mistake. Instead of sitting down and explaining to her who I had met, I came straight out and said it. "It's not a boy mama, it's a girl,"
I closed my eyes as I remembered the arguments, the shouting, the abuse we threw at each other. Me her only daughter. The tears she shed. I tried to talk to her. Maybe I didn't try hard enough.
I was twenty-two, still living at home, it was a couple of days after that first fight, that she said she didn't want me in her house any more. That if my father was still alive he would have put a stop to it.
I moved out two days later. I couched surfed for several weeks, but soon my friends got sick and tired of me. I can understand that.
Finally, a friend of a friend found a small flat that the two of us could share. For three peaceful years, I had a place where, if I wanted to, could bring someone home for the night or weekend. It was sad that I was only a 15-minute walk from my home, my real home, yet I never bothered to go and say hello.
A stubborn bitch.
I must have slept and dreamed of those times so long ago. A long time before I met Amanda.
I thought I felt her next to me, but she let me sleep, it was after eight when I felt her lips on mine. I wasn't sure what woke me, the aroma of a coffee being brought to me or her sweet lips.
She was looking down at me, smiling. The sun was breaking through a gap in the curtains and her head and shoulders were lit up as if they were a halo. I smiled and then the phone call in the early hours brought me back to reality.
"Drink your coffee first and I'll tell you what I think you should do," She told me.
I stretched my arms, yawned and took a giant sip of her perfectly brewed hot elixir of life and love.
She sat on the edge of the bed, she was still in her PJs. The white singlet let her full bosom creep out and I couldn't stop myself from smiling and for a moment a naughty thought ran through my head.
She knew she was tempting me, not silly is my girl. She smiled back at me, pulled the singlet over the mischievous boob and then turned and faced me. She told me that I had some urgent phone calls to make.
She must have been up for some time because on our dresser I saw she had our passports. She also had the phone number of the hospital in the States. And a sly note to return the favour to Ken, it said we should wait until it was 2 a.m. in San Diego before I ring him. I smiled and shook my head.
"I've rang Ashley for you and told her what has happened and that you're taking some time off, I'm not sure how much. She sends her love,"
Ashley was my publicist and manager. She would have organised everything if I had asked her to. But Amanda being Amanda took charge.
I smiled as it was all coming back to me now.
Amanda held my hand, "Ring the hospital now, it is mid-afternoon over there. I'll jump in the shower and then you. OK"
I nodded and finished the coffee first.
I rang the hospital and was surprised by how efficient they were and helpful. I got put through to their ICU and after explaining everything, I was told that my mother was in a coma, and I should speak to my brothers.
I rang Ken as soon as I hung up. He answered immediately, "I've been waiting on your call,"
