Twenty-Four—Mia
Twenty-Four— Mia
I
caught up to Ivy and her Mom just before they crossed Ocean Avenue at fifth, an area active with sidewalk commerce. But when I realized they were in the midst of a rather intense conversation, I held back and busied myself snapping pics. I tried to be discrete as I shot a haggle going on between a barefoot watercolorist and an overdressed woman undervaluing his product. But even as I captured the sideshow in my lens, my true attention was on Ivy and Bree, and they were animated enough for me to catch the gist of their argument. It made me a bit queasy. I’d already seen the peeled back version of Super-dad and knew he was a dud of a parent, but right there in the middle of tourist central, Bree Talbot became a caricature of one, too.
Apparently, she’d been meeting up with Daniel for years to soak up his undivided attention and shallow promises—at times at Christmas, right here in Carmel—sans Ivy. I could see the sad impact of this revelation on my new friend, and I ached for her. The disbelief on her face shimmered with a pain so raw, so completely unprotected, it was almost exquisite in its bruised humanity. It would surely be a puncture wound in any half-decent mother’s heart, which was my cruel motive for capturing it. So, I aimed, focused, zoomed and clicked. I wanted to hurt Bree. I wanted her to recall this incident in its entirety. Especially since despite the damage she’d done, she behaved like any bratty, petulant, self-absorbed woman and defended herself at the expense of the one she’d hurt. Then she proceeded to huff away, the victim.
I captured that, too, and mocked her under my breath.
The barefoot artist eyed me crouched rather near his turf. “What are you doing?” he said. He had not been successful with his sale to the Real Housewives of Carmel wannabe, so he was a titch snippy with me. I fake smiled to ease his pain. “I’m a photography major over at MPC. I’m working on my final portfolio.”
He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“I really like your stuff,” I added, pouring it on. Then I snapped a picture of his booth and hurried over to Ivy.
I came up from behind and slipped my hand in hers. “You okay?”
If I startled her, she didn’t show it. She just shook her head, clearly not okay. “Did you hear all that?”
“Yes,” I said. “And you were phenomenal.”
“I hurt her.”
I squeezed her hand. “My mean self would say she deserved it, Ivy,” I told her. “But my smart self is going to tell you honestly that your mother hurt herself. You just held up the mirror.”
Ivy looked over at me with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know. Just when I think I’m finally crawling out of this hole…What do I do now?”
I linked my arm through hers and led her gently across the street. “You want to scream at the ocean? You want to be alone? You want to cry? Eat? What are you thinking?”
“I think I’m mad,” she whimpered. “I think I’m really, really mad.”
“Mad’s good,” I said. “Mad is very cleansing. Don’t be afraid of it. Especially when you’re so entitled to it.”
Ivy looked at me. “Really?”
“Absolutely!”
“Mia Sutton, I do not think there are enough people like you in this world,” she said to me. “No one has ever given me permission to be mad. About anything.”
I laughed. “Girl, you don’t need permission. ”
“I do…because mad just does not come natural to me. I do hurt pretty good—I’ve got hurt down, but I just don’t seem to do mad well at all. It feels wrong.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I don’t know. Maybe…maybe feeling it too deep. Getting lost somewhere that I can’t come back from. Hating, maybe.” She shook her head. “I never want to hate anybody, Mia. I never want to hate Mama. Or Tim. Not even Daniel…and I think that one might be a short trip.” She tried to laugh. “I guess I think anger and hate are kinda twins. I don’t know. I think I’m a little bit crazy.”
“Nah. You’re a little bit too nice. But not crazy. Should we grab a Coke?”
“That would probably be good. Caffeine usually levels me out.”
We’d crossed to a little bistro that had outdoor tables and no apparent waiting. When the waitress seated us, we ordered Cokes and an order of onion rings to share without looking at a menu. Ivy glanced around, sighed, and found my eyes. “Thank you, Mia.”
“For what?”
“Not judging me. Or if you are, hiding it so nicely.”
I smiled and was about to say that it wasn’t her I was judging when she added, “And please, please don’t think less of Mama.”
“Oh…Ivy…” I winced and made a show of the tiny space between my thumb and forefinger. “Maybe just a little,” I said. “But I promise not to hate her.”
The waitress set down our drinks, and I proceeded to peel the paper from my straw. To Ivy’s sad demeanor, I said “Okay, allow me to impart another of my dad’s annoying pearls of wisdom.”
“I’m listening.’”
“He says we only get one life to truly ruin . Our own. Yours is yours. Your mom’s is hers. Daniel’s is his. Doesn’t take a genius to see they’re both doing a stellar job of destroying themselves . But that’s not your fault, and you can’t fix it.”
Ivy got a little teary, and I felt a little bad but couldn’t think what to take back .
She nodded, although it seemed a painful admission. “You know, I think he really loves her,” she said. “Daniel. And I know Mama loves him. It’s twisted, I know, but it’s probably still love. It’s just that for my whole life, it’s been one pathetic promise after another. And she just keeps believing him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“And I don’t know why. It’s not like she hasn’t had other opportunities. There’s been a parade of nice men traipsing around in her life. But then just when I think she’s moved on, Daniel resurfaces, and something happens and she’s back in love with him.” Ivy rubbed her forehead with the heels of both hands. “He’s like a drug, I swear, and no matter how long she’s sober, Mama always relapses on Daniel.” Ivy sighed. “There was one summer when I was ten, turning eleven—that was the only birthday he was ever there for—he’d been gone a long time. But he came back and stayed that whole summer. We went to Disneyworld and the Everglades.” She almost smiled. “He even taught me to fish that summer. We were like a real family. But then just after I went back to school, he up and left.” She wiped her nose on a napkin. “I came home one day, and he was gone. And Mama curled up in a ball and died a little. Again . She’s died a little a lot over the years. If you know what I mean.”
I grimaced but said nothing.
Ivy looked tired, overly burdened. “I used to blame Daniel,” she said, heavily. “I used to think Mama hurting was all his fault. But…” She shook her head and met my eyes with weary wisdom. “Mia, I just bet you have never once seen your mama for a fool.”
I looked at her and had no words. It was true enough. I had never known my mother to diminish herself in any significant way—not that I was privy to, anyway. But I certainly wasn’t going to say that to Ivy.
She nodded, understanding my silence regardless. “That’s good because something awful happens to a daughter when her mama… loses her shine. You still love her, of course you do. But it’s pitied-up love, worried-up love.” Ivy shrugged but didn’t break eye contact. “I only have a few women in my life of any real importance. Hardly seems fair for the one I need the most to do her best by me to have the nerve to be a mere mortal. Right? How dare she?” Ivy cry-smiled. “I try not to judge her, Mia, I truly do. But sometimes she makes it very, very hard.”
I almost couldn’t swallow over the knot in my throat. “I think you’re amazing, Ivy. I think you’re an amazing daughter and an amazing person. And I’m just so sorry that we can’t pick our parents.”
Ivy sniffed back emotion. “Well, I’d still pick Mama. Her only problem is that she hasn’t been loved properly. If she had, she’d be a great Mom. So needless to say, I wouldn’t pick Daniel.” She tried to laugh. “He’s not a good man. And I sure don’t think he’s a good dad...to me, anyway.” Ivy brushed a tear off her cheek, regrouped, and picked up her sweaty Coke. “But at least we can pick our friends.” She announced, chin lifted. “And I am sorry, but that is my superpower.” She grinned weakly and tapped my glass. “To you, my friend, who got a truckload more than you bargained for when you agreed to meet my daddy-in-name-only for lunch.”
“True, that.” I smiled. “But, may I just say, totally worth it.”