Free The Boots My Mother Gave Me by Brooklyn James Page A

leaving, busied herself with preparations. She took me to the bank, where she co-signed my first loan so I could reimburse Benny for my car. Determined to assist further, she scanned the attic for anything and everything I might need. After finding a few buried treasures, she insisted I come by and pick them up.
    As I stepped into the house clear of my father, I heard Mom and Kat’s voices coming from the open hatch in the living room ceiling. I climbed up the ladder, poking my head into the attic.
    “Harley, look at this,” Kat said giggling, as she held a mint green polyester woman’s suit with flared sleeves and bellbottoms. “Mom used to wear this! Do you believe that?”
    “Yes. Look at how she used to dress us.”
    “There was nothing wrong with the way I dressed you girls. It was the style,” Mom said as she reached forward, grabbing at the garment in Kat’s hand.
    “Can I have it? For material?” Kat pleaded.
    “Oh, so now it’s not such an eyesore?”
    “It won’t be when I get done with it.”
    Mom chuckled, obliging her. “I don’t know where you get your flare for making clothes, probably your grandmother. Well, I did sew a bit in high school.”
    “You sewed in high school?” I asked surprised, making my ascent.
    “Yes,” Mom said defiantly. “You’re looking at Lambo High’s 1967 Homemaker of the Year.”
    “I didn’t mean it like that. Whoa!” I lost my footing on the ladder. Mom grabbed me by the arm, steadying me until my foot made contact with the rung again. I pushed and she pulled until my feet planted firmly on the attic floor. “I just never saw you sew before,” I finished my sentence, greeting her with a hug.
    “Guess I lost interest,” she said. “Did I ever tell you about the time I almost fell out of the attic while I was pregnant with you, Harley?”
    “That’s what’s wrong with her!” Kat joked, hugging me.
    Mom gave us her be quiet and listen look, before continuing, “I was about to pop, eight-and-a-half months at least. I wanted my suitcase from up here to pack an overnight bag for the hospital. You’re dad was in the bathroom shaving as I came down from the attic, and the ladder came out from underneath me. I screamed ‘John!’ He came to my rescue lightning fast. He scooped me up in his arms before I even had time to process everything. To this day, I don’t know how he did it.”
    I stayed quiet momentarily. I didn’t have many heroic stories about my father. It was nice to hear. Every kid wants to believe her dad’s a hero, right? “And you’re sure he knew you were pregnant with me?” I joked.
    “Harley,” Mom scolded.
    “Hey, check it out.” Kat excitedly opened a box full of our grade school projects. “You kept all this stuff, Ma?” Mom and I made our way toward Kat. I knelt beside her, rummaging through the stuff.
    “You think I threw it away? I treasure those things. I’m proud of you girls.”
    Kat grabbed a bouquet of pipe cleaner flowers planted in a Styrofoam egg carton. “Oh, my gosh, I made this in kindergarten. Look at the colors I picked, none of them compliment the other, not a single one. You’re proud of this, Ma?”
    Taking the bouquet from Kat, “You gave me that for Mother’s Day,” she said. Turning it upside down, she read the inscription, “‘To The World’s Best Ma. I love you. XOXO. Love, Katrina.’ That’s so cute. See how you put Ma? Not Mom...The World’s Best Ma. Everybody got the biggest kick out of that.”
    I glanced inside at our childhood in a box. Report cards, poems, crafts, and school projects, everything. Mom kept it all. I looked back at her watching us with quiet pride. I guess I never thought about it much from her perspective, the life we lived. Surely she didn’t set out to live such a life. I don’t think little girls sit around thinking about the abusive man they’re going to marry. Did she have a childhood in a box? If she did, where did all those pieces of her go? When did she