Losing Annette

Germantown Avenue. She runs through the door of a bar not wearing a coat in the blistering cold. She is thinner than I remembered. I stare. Her hair that used to flow across he shoulders is in two messy cornrows. She is high or drunk or both and I can tell by her stride and the way she doesn't even see me when I am standing on the opposite corner. I am 25 now (quite the woman) and she hasn't seen me since I was 14. I do not speak as she hops into a strange man's car and gives him a kiss. She is like an apparition. It is Christmas Eve. 11 years to the day since I last knew her as my stepmother of 9 years. I pull up the collar on my wool coat. It would only embarrass her for me to shout out her name and tell her what......." Hey Netty, I got outta this city like you always said I would"........" I'm in law school and my future is looking bright." What would she say in return........"Things didn't turn out like I thought and I drink a lot these days and use crack?" So I pass the woman on the street who used to smile in my family photos and comb my hair. On Christmas, she would wrap gifts and put them under the tree for me, then lie in the morning and say Santa Claus had come. But there is no Santa Claus, at least not like he used to be........and really, there is no Annette. I close the door of my car behind me and I don't look back. I would rather remember Santa and Annette like they used to be. When I get back to my dad's house, I never tell him that I've seen her at all.......and life moves on.