More memories played, like watching life flash when in danger, Amber saw it when seeing her mother. Though not in danger, the extent of her changes became more apparent looking at her mother's sopping wet skirt.
At the same time she realized that the house she was in, wasn't the house she knew from her old life. Growing up, they lived in tasteful, multi-story homes. But standing in the manufactured home gave her a sense of vertigo as she became aware that she was already becoming used to this new life. Seeing her mother made the change all the more illusory.
This was wrong! Her parents weren't poor, she didn't have hand-me-downs, and she certainly had an intelligent mother. Or at least she used to.
The pit in her stomach grew as the divide grew. Through the haze she remembered living in cramped apartments, reeking of urine, with two overworked parents. She remembered being told that her mother born with a genetic disorder which partially paralyzed her from the abdomen down. The protein mal-formation also hampered the organization of her central nervous system. Although not enough to be noticeable outside of close-relationships or the occasional conversation, Laura definitely had a hard time learning. Despite this, her Dad clearly loved her greatly, and gave up a lot of opportunities to take care of the two of them.
When she was born, Amber was put under observation to see if she would be as impacted as her mother. The physicians and therapists agreed that no, she was not intellectually impaired. On the other hand, Amber appeared to display a weakened core and had a propensity for adolescent behavior.
Taking this all in over the course of perhaps a second, Amber recovered and stuttered a response. "I, I, am sorry. I just realized the time, and wanted to get my chores done. I promise I will put a liner in next time." As an after thought she added "But I did get the laundry!"
Laura walked to the sink, and pulled out a garbage liner. She unrolled it, reached under her own skirt and pulled off a sopping wet goodnite. Dropping it unceremoniously in the bag with a heavy thud, she relined the pail. She had been listening to Amber during this, and asked "Did you remember to turn on the dryer? I don't want it to mildew, and did you finish the bathroom?"
Amber was tempted to interrupt and answer her immediately. But she became fascinated by her mom's wet padding. It was simultaneously horrible and consuming. She had zero-interest in her mother in that way, but coming home sopping wet was much more interesting. "Yes and no, yes to the drier and no to the bathroom."
"Oh hunny, come over here." Amber walked somewhat stunned to her mother expecting a hug. Her mother grabbed her hand, "you know you aren't supposed to be sucking your thumb." Her mother then pulled Amber's wasteband back, "not as bad as I thought, but have you gone potty since getting home from work?" With an elestic snap, her mom let go.