A Love of My Own Read Online Free PDF Page A

voice that she was calling with bad news and had a feeling that it involved my older and troubled sister, Pamela. Everybody in my family always said Pamela had a few drama problems. I called her what she was, an emotional vampire sucking the life out of everyone she came in contact with. She caused chaos whenever she pleased.
    â€œWhat did she do now?” I asked.
    â€œPamela has been missing for about a week. Nobody’s seen her, and I went over to her apartment and there was an eviction notice on her door,” Mother said.
    â€œI’m sure she’ll turn up soon, Mother. Don’t worry about it,” I said as I looked out the huge picture windows of my office and observed wisps of high clouds against a May blue sky.
    â€œZola, I’m just wondering if I should file a missing persons report with the police.”
    â€œI don’t think so. She’s probably met some new junkie and will show up any minute and act like nothing has happened,” I said.
    While my mother talked about all the bad things that could have happened to Pamela, I was having swirling recollections of some of my sister’s previous antics, like being arrested at one of Mother’s Links meetings for writing hot checks. To make matters worse, she had a vial of cocaine in her purse when she was searched at the police station.
    The last time I was home—to attend the funeral of my Aunt Sophie Lou—Pamela showed up at the funeral sloppy drunk, threw herself into the casket, and started screaming and crying like a madwoman. The sad thing was that Pamela was not crying because Aunt Sophie Lou died, she was crying because the well had run dry: She could always count on Aunt Sophie for money for her bad habits. I remember pulling Pamela out of the coffin and taking her into one of the back rooms of the church and telling her, “When this is over I’m going to kick your ass for embarrassing the family once again, and I want you to take it like a man.”
    When my mother had finally finished listing the places where Pamela might be, I asked her what Daddy thought she should do.
    â€œI didn’t want to bother him. You know he’s worked so hard all his life and I just want him to enjoy his retirement,” Mother said.
    â€œMother, that’s what I think you should do too. Enjoy your retirement. You’ve raised us and you did a great job with me. Pamela is a grown woman and she’s responsible for her own actions,” I said.
    â€œI’ve got to do something. She’s my daughter,” Mother said. Her voice sounded flat and lifeless and not like the Nashville educator and socialite many of her friends thought she was.
    â€œMother, I’m trying to understand how you feel. But I am not a mother. I’m a sister who has been wronged by Pamela time and time again, just like everyone else in this family. I don’t mean to sound cold, but we can’t live her life for her,” I said.
    â€œZola, I love you, baby, but I just wish you could be more forgiving.”
    â€œI am,” I said quickly.
    â€œThen please forgive Pamela. She never means any harm.”
    â€œMother, let’s face it. Pamela wakes up every morning thinking about what kind of mayhem she can create.”
    â€œI just hope nothing bad’s happened.”
    â€œIf it had, you would have heard something by now. Why don’t you plan a trip up here to New York? It’ll take your mind off things. We could go see some shows, do some shopping, and there are lots of new restaurants that the owners are dying to have me visit. If I keep taking Hayden when I go out to eat, he’s going to be so fat, he won’t be able to get a job,” I said, laughing.
    â€œVisiting you would be fun. But I need to find out what’s happened to Pamela first.”
    â€œJust let me know when you want to come, Mother. I’d love to see you.”
    â€œWell, I’m always here in Nashville, and