She lied, even though she wanted very much to say yes to the offer of being taken to the store. The offer given after, her daughter had poked her head into the fridge and saw only a handful of condiments and 5 eggs nestled in the door. She lied, because of the tone in which it was offered, the tone that said, "It's a bloody nusiance, and I'd rather have a root canal without novicaine." The same tone that said, "I guess it's my duty. I have TO." And so she lied, saying that she could get what she needed at the corner store, even though she couldn't because she had no means with which to buy any food, anyway. But, she would not admit that. That would have met with just another sigh and a begrudging 'hand out.' She'd rather do without. She had suffered enough, lost enough of her daughter's respect, she'd at least salvage what dignity she could. She'd do anything not to hear that infliction in her daughter's voice. This is why she had stopped asking her daughter , or anyone for that matter for help, except if it were dire. She'd rather do the wash by hand,in the bathtub, then feel as if she was putting someone out by asking for a ride to the laundrymat. She didn't understand herself how she had fallen so far, so she didn't expect anyone else to understand. She loathed the pity she sometimes heard, back when she had dared to ask for help. Now she kept it to herself, and lied if asked. Most of all, she lied to herself. She told herself, it was logical for her daughter to live with her father because it was 'closer' to work. It had nothing to do with the fact that he lived in a gorgeous house with beautiful furniture, while she lived in a tiny,second story walk-up furnished in early attic and yardsale, and it shamed her daughter. When her chest contracted in stress over not having the rent on time, or had yet another bill she could not pay, she'd lie to herself again, saying 'things are bound to get better.' And when words like failure, looser, and other negative connotations filled her head, she'd whisper to herself, that it was ok. She'd find her way someday. It was all only temporary. Sooner or later Fate would either smile at her, or Jesus would call her home. Either way, then she'd be better off. Late at night when the darkest thoughts came, and whispered of releasing herself from the world in which she had become a stain or a burden in the eyes of those she loved, she would tell herself the biggest lie of all. Tomorrow will be better.
