Free Fighting to Forget by Jenika Snow

we’d talked about?” her mother asked.
    Tasha stared at her mother. Genny Mackenzie was a fickle, religious woman that made everything a frantic mess. She was devoted to the church in their town, and although Tasha had also grown up in the church, loved going and the people there, it was her parents that had made her feel like she’d done something that could never be forgiven. Yes, she’d made a mistake, a big one that created a new life, but also one that left Tasha broken inside.
    Would she always feel shame for what she did? She had back then, but she’d grown into a woman, knew the rights and wrongs of what had happened, but also knew that what she’d done wasn’t a sin that would lead her to hell. She now realized that even if she had kept the baby she couldn’t have supported him, couldn’t have given him the life he deserved. But according to her mother it didn’t matter how much time had passed because Tasha was still going to hell for what she’d done. Unless she fully got forgiveness from God she’d have a seat waiting for her in that fiery pit. Tasha didn’t believe that, but she also didn’t argue the subject with her mother anymore.
    She looked at her plate of food, pushed it aside, and set down her fork. “I met someone,” she stated without looking up, and when the silence stretched out she finally looked at her parents. They stared at her, and she stared right back.
    “You met someone at this fighting gym you work at?” her mother asked with this snap in her voice.
    “Yes.” Tasha nodded and straightened her shoulders. “I did.”
    Her mother just shook her head, and her father leaned back in his chair, breathing out heavily.
    “Have you told him about your … problem?” her mother asked in a pinched voice.
    “My problem?’ Tasha asked, although she knew what her mom was referring to.
    “Don’t be snappy with your mother, Tasha. You know exactly what she’s referring to.” Her father, Theodore, tossed his napkin on the table and crossed his arms over his chest.
    “You mean the baby I had when I was seventeen?” she asked, not going to do this again. “The baby I gave away all those years ago that you still throw back in my face like it was the worst possible sin I could ever commit?” This was an ongoing conversation, or more aptly an accusation her parents threw at her at any opportunity.
    “You’re being overly dramatic, Natasha.” Her mother used her full name when she was angry with her. Ever since Tasha was old enough to make up her own mind she’d gone by Tasha, not Natasha, because thinking of her birth name made her think of her mother and all the times she felt let down.
    “No, I haven’t told him, but I will.” She looked down at her hands that were folded on the table. “I really like him, have for a while now, and don’t want to keep anything from him.”
    Her mother pinched her lips. “So you plan on being serious with this boy?”
    “Man.”
    “What?” her mother questioned, and raised a plucked blonde brow.
    “He’s a man, Mom. He’s much older than me.” She was going to have this escalate even further by going down this road, but if things got serious with Larson he’d have to meet her family at some point. It was a necessary evil.
    Her mother shook her head again, the disgust clear on her face. “Again, Natasha?”
    Tasha leaned back, not responding.
    “I thought you learned from the last time, or at least were smarter than getting involved with men that only look for one thing from you.” Her mother stood, grabbed the plates, and shook her head as she left the dining room.
    Tasha looked at her dad and saw the disappointment in his eyes, like she always did when she looked at him. “I don’t know what to say,” she spoke, saying exactly what was on her mind. “This is my life. I’m an adult, know what’s best for me, live on my own, and I wish, just for once, I could come here and not feel like I was seventeen telling you about