Chapter Twenty
Iwalked back home in the snow, hoping I’d feel a little better when I lay on my bed. However, I went directly to my study to bury myself in work.
Initially, I had thought of confronting her about the foreclosure on the coffee shop but I also didn’t want her to feel I was invading her privacy. I wanted her to tell me in her own words.
However, apparently, she didn’t trust me enough to let me know such crucial details about her life.
I blamed myself for being impatient with her but I didn’t regret my actions.
Her words hurt me, but I knew I deserved them. I deserved everything she said to me, but I still didn’t regret what I did. And no matter how much I tried to convince her, I had the feeling that she’d never listen.
I was down. She had to come around. She just had to.
Daisy arrived before midnight. Her ‘gift’ helped her figure things out easily.
“Right, I’ll speak with you later.” Her voice came softly behind me when I was beginning to feel sleepy.
I felt a gentle touch on my back.
“Do you think you feel better?” Daisy asked.
I nodded in acquiescence.
“That’s good to know. How about dinner? You haven’t had anything tonight, have you?” She rubbed my back as I sat up.
“I’ll have anything you prepare.” I sat up, rubbing my eyes.
“Hmm.” She smiled.
“Mom called. I spoke with her.”
“You didn’t tell her about what happened, did you?” I asked because I knew she was very capable.
She shook her head.
I heaved a sigh of relief.
Then, the bomb dropped.
“She knew beforehand.”
“How? Just how?”
“I don’t know. These days, I think mom is a mind reader, she is psychometric of the sort.” She mused.
“That’s ridiculous.” I stood up from my desk and walked towards the window to get myself a drink from the refrigerator.
“Maybe, but it’s true. She knows everything about us. Imagine, I didn’t tell her I was dating someone new, yet she knows, and she knows who he is, as well.” She pushed back my seat and sat.
“What did she say? What did she want to talk about?” I stood by the side, gazing out at the sky. The snow fell in greater quantities than earlier.
“She wanted to tell you she was leaving for New York,” Daisy answered.
“Is that all?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Daisy responded.
Perhaps moments like these were meant to be times of reflection. I suddenly missed my mom, though she had been here all this time, and I hardly had time for her.
I thought she was the best person to be with at that moment. Therefore, I instantly booked myself an early morning flight to New York.
***
The following morning, after I wrapped things up at the office, I set out on the road to the airport.
I accepted that visiting my mom was the break I had deprived myself of all these years. She’d be delighted to see me, I knew that.
As the plane touched down on the runway, I knew I was home again. I would go directly to the mansion. It was a typical weekday, and if I knew my mother at all, she’d be reclining in her chair with a tray of dainty cookies and tea in front of her with earphones, listening to an audiobook or some podcast. That constituted her typical morning. It was so pedestrian you’d not find many people having such a morning.
As I approached, the mansion loomed high before me. It had been a while since I last visited. Even before I relocated to Sunnyvale, I had stopped coming home.
Home was not a haven for me, especially when my father was around. Though he paid little or no attention to me, I still didn’t like it when he was around. And honestly, I didn’t want to be like him, though I was already seeing myself becoming like him, choosing work over family and relationships.
I rang the doorbell, and the butler ushered me in. The man I was used to had been replaced, and now, a fairly young man stood upright before me. He seemed nice anyway.
“Look who’s here.” My mom said as she walked down the stairs.
“It’s nice to see you, Mom.”
“What’s the occasion?” She asked, settling on the sofa. “Did you perhaps miss me?” she smiled.
“I’m visiting like I said I would,” I said, nonchalantly.
“Hmm. Impressive.” She smiled softly.
“Liezel!” She called out, and a young lady immediately appeared. She looked about Daisy’s age, though she had softer contours.
“Please, prepare something light but very delicious quickly.” Mom instructed.
“Yes, ma’am.” The lady bobbed and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Tell me, Jacob Sebastian Bradley, what has truly brought you here?” She sat with her legs crossed.
“Mom, can I not come visit, I mean, naturally, without cause, without ulterior motives?”
“I do not believe you. Anyway, now that you are here, we can have some alone time. I have a schedule planned for today. Let’s spend the day together.” She said with a cheerful smile.
I was pleased I had made her smile.
***
Mom invited me to join her for lunch the next day, and we headed to her favorite Thai restaurant. As soon as we sat down, she ordered spicy dishes, and we dug in.
“We’re going out as a family later,” she mentioned between bites.
“But Daisy isn’t here,” I reminded her.
“She’ll be here,” Mom replied with a mysterious grin.
I raised an eyebrow. “When? Daisy told me she’s traveling out of the country. She’s not planning on coming to New York.”
“She’ll be here,” she repeated, her smile widening.
“Mom, what are you up to?” I put down my fork, curiosity piqued.
“Nothing,” she said, chewing quietly. “Just eat.”
“I’m not staying here long, you know that, right?” I said, leaning back in my chair.
“Of course I do. That’s because you can’t stand your father,” she said matter-of-factly.
I sighed.
“You are here because of Clara. Am I wrong?”
Silence hung in the air.
“It is clear you are heartbroken again. It was inevitable for both of you to fall in love again,” Mom said, her eyes fixed on me, full of maternal insight.
“What do you mean, Mom?” I asked, leaning forward.
“Well, you love her, and she loves you,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“She loves me?” I asked, taken aback.
“Of course,” she stopped eating. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Clara, in love with me? I couldn’t imagine, especially after everything.
“She doesn’t want me, Mom.”
“When you’re after a new client and your sales pitch doesn’t convince them to trust you with their money, do you give up?” Mom asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
“No.”
“If you don’t give up, what is your next move?”
“I review my sales pitch and the client’s response. Then I ask for a second chance to re-present my sales pitch, and 90% of the time, I convince them.”
“Why are you giving up on Clara so easily?”
“This situation stands out from the rest. When I’m with Clara, my entire world centers on her. My emotions are involved. Her rejection hurts much more than a potential client’s rejection.”
“Jacob. If you can convince a stranger to trust you with enormous sums of cash, you can convince a woman who loves you to trust you with her heart,” she said, smiling.
“Oh, Mom,” I sighed.
“I think you’ve heard what you came here to hear,” she said, her smile knowing as she resumed eating.
As I sat there, mulling over her words, my phone buzzed. A text from Daisy: ‘Are you well? Can you talk?’
I picked up my phone, fingers hovering over the screen. ‘Not at the moment,’ I typed. ‘I’m with Mom. I’ll call you later.’