Chapter Twenty-Six #2
She released a long breath, and I held mine, wondering what she might say next. “I understand, Mama. I know you’re hurting and frustrated with Dad. You’re going through so much right now. I get that, and we support each other when we struggle, remember?”
My heart swelled at the sweet memory.
The first time I’d said those words to her, she was still learning to tie her shoes.
The accidental knots she’d created made it impossible to take off her sneakers.
We were late for something, and she lashed out in anger.
I didn’t blame her. I understood her screams and tears had nothing to do with me and everything to do with her situation.
Then I’d told her we never get mad if we can be compassionate instead.
“I remember,” I said, emotion thick in my throat.
My baby girl had grown up to be a kind and compassionate woman.
What happened to a mother-daughter relationship when the daughter didn’t need parenting anymore? I couldn’t begin to guess. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been parented. But I knew unequivocally, I didn’t deserve my precious daughter.
Camilla sighed, and instinct told me something bad was coming next.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Can I make a confession? No judgment?”
“Always.”
“I talked to Dad last night, and I lost my shit a little,” she said. “So you weren’t the only one saying things that were probably better kept to yourself.”
I bristled, nonsensically, at the thought of her speaking to Robert, though he was her dad. And I hated that he’d upset her. But I bit my tongue and waited, letting her talk while I listened.
“I called to tell him about all the amazing venues we checked out by the river. Then he told me about filing for bankruptcy.”
“Oh, hon.” Guilt rolled over me when I realized I hadn’t told her. I tried not to speak of Robert in her presence, because I never had anything nice to say. But I should’ve thought about how his nonsense would impact her life, too, and I hadn’t. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “That was his story to tell, and he never said a word. Not when we met you for dinner and announced our engagement. And not after he had time to think about it. So I’ve been planning this elaborate dream wedding, knowing Dad will want to make a spectacle and invite everyone he knows, so they can see what a great guy he is—” Her voice cracked, and she groaned.
“Go on,” I encouraged. “I’m just here to listen.” She certainly wouldn’t hear me telling anyone to speak kindly about Robert anytime soon.
“The worst part is how sad it makes me,” she said.
“I realized how much I really want a big, romantic ceremony with all the sweet little details. Now I have to settle for good enough and pay for it with my salary as a college student and part-time yoga instructor.” She gave a humorless laugh. “It sucks.”
“I’m so sorry.” Wow. I was saying that a lot lately. I wished I didn’t have to, but every apology was more than necessary. Though this one, admittedly, wasn’t mine to give.
“Please don’t tell me to wait five years until I can afford the hoopla,” she said. “That’s not what I need right now.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything like that.” Though it was a solid option.
I wished we were together so I could hold her, but I was thankful we’d closed the emotional gap between us. I’d never say anything to push her away again. “I can’t help thinking that this is a little bit my fault too,” I admitted. “If I hadn’t filed for divorce, nothing would have changed.”
“Mom,” she chided. “That’s not true.”
I was almost certain it was true, but I let it go. The fact was that I did file for divorce, and Robert was claiming bankruptcy. Now Camilla wouldn’t get the wedding of her dreams, and I had to buy a bus pass.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you too. Thanks for accepting my apology.”
“Always,” she said. “I have to go. Can we talk soon?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m off work today. If you have time later, stop by and we’ll figure out the big wedding,” I promised. Though I had no idea how.
“You know,” she said. “If I take a year or two off from college, I can apply the tuition money to the wedding. Then I can get student loans after I’m married and finish school later, when I’m ready.”
My heart spasmed, and I covered my mouth with one hand, thankful she couldn’t see me. I wasn’t convinced Robert had left any money in her tuition account, but that was the smaller problem. She needed that degree to support herself one day. “Honey, I—”
“I know, Mom,” she said, cutting me off. “Let’s talk more soon.”
We disconnected, and I hung my head.
“Fuck.”
I made a cup of coffee. Then I sent photos of the paperwork from Robert’s hidey-hole to my forensic accountant and left a message with my attorney to discuss the findings.
I wrestled with conflicting emotions as I prepped one of the cookie orders that had come in during the night.
I was deeply thankful for the reconciliation with my daughter, and horrified at the possibility of her leaving school to fund the wedding.
Being married without a degree to support herself, should things go south, was far worse than just getting married too young.
But there wasn’t much I could do about any of it, and I didn’t want to risk overstepping again.
I turned my attention to things I could control and disabled the ordering function on my website.
Then I posted two new graphics. A hot-pink-and-white banner thanked customers for their orders and advised all visitors that I’d reopen as soon as I’d had a chance to catch up.
A second sign, in the shape of an orange-and-tan cupcake, announced a fall menu coming soon.
I was just starting a third round of order fulfillments when my phone buzzed again. I smiled when I saw it was Camilla. A peek at the clock told me I’d been working far longer than I’d realized.
Cami: Wedding dress shopping?
Cami: Last-minute appointment at Southern Charm!
I groaned. Shopping for gowns at Southern Charm was a tradition for local brides. The store worked with brides by appointment only, and getting in usually took several weeks. I understood Camilla’s enthusiasm, though I didn’t share it.
I’d always made a conscious effort to prioritize my daughter, so she never felt unimportant, but today I had a hard time accepting her last-minute request. Aside from receiving more online orders than I wanted to think about and finding the boat I apparently owned, I still needed to tell Lucas about my company and let him know I was all in for training in France, if he still wanted me.
I didn’t know anything about plating food, but how could anyone pass up an offer like his?
I tapped my thumbs against the sides of my phone, debating briefly before doing what I had to do.
Me: Exciting! Count me in! Just say when
Cami: Two!
I let my eyes fall shut. I didn’t want Cami to get married yet, and I definitely didn’t want her quitting school to pay for it.
The whole situation felt like watching a slow-motion train crash.
I saw the prospects for her future shrinking without that degree and her currently wide-open life being funneled into a narrow tube, fastened tightly with a wedding band.
And there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.
So I swallowed my complaints, and I drank my coffee.
Another message arrived a moment later.
Cami: Bring Auntie Alicia!
I smiled. Luckily it was the weekend and her favorite auntie didn’t have school.
Me: I’ll call her now
Cami: TY! I love you, Mama!
Me: I love you too sweet girl
I forwarded the exchange to Alicia, then went back to work on my order. When the cookies finished baking, I showered and prepped myself for dress shopping. I decided to walk instead of driving to the shop. Heavens knew I needed the fresh air to clear my mind before facing my baby in a wedding gown.
I called the local DMV on my way and was instructed to contact the Department of Wildlife Resources regarding the boat.
That seemed strange, but I did as I was told.
Within minutes, a representative from the DWR confirmed the title I’d found was authentic.
The twenty-three-foot-long sport boat, valued at thirty-four thousand dollars, was mine.
Technically, only seventeen thousand of that was mine, but at the moment, any amount of money would change my life.
Alicia called as I stopped to lean against a brick building and absorb the information.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” she asked. “I’m outside. You aren’t answering.”
It took a moment for her words to make sense. “You stopped at my house?”
“I wanted to pick you up. I didn’t think you’d have left yet.”
That was so nice, and she was right. I would still be at home if I hadn’t chosen walking over driving. “I’m on First Street,” I said, smiling at her gesture. “I’m getting in some steps. Plus I need to multitask.”
Alicia growled. “I’m trying to get a few extra minutes with you before your little girl expects you to be excited for her,” she said. “Stop moving. I’ll be there in like five minutes.”
I turned and walked back the way I came so I could see her approach, and continued our conversation. “I am excited for her,” I said. “I wish we all shared her blind optimism about love.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Alicia said. I could hear her turn signal ticking in the background. “You need to stop that. Even when you don’t say those kinds of words, your face does.”
“I said I was excited for her.”
“And you probably looked as if you sucked a lemon, because that’s how you look anytime anyone says anything about love or marriage.
I saw you scowl at a billboard for an upcoming bridal fair last week, and your death glare at the radio whenever a ballad plays is terrifying.
If you slip and steal her joy today, she’ll build a wall to protect herself from feeling that way again, and that’s exactly what you spent her whole life defending against.”
I stopped walking when Alicia’s Bronco appeared in the distance.
“I really am working on it.” I’d recently decided late one night to accept the notion Camilla would find happiness as a wife.
If I kept that mindset, I could also experience the associated joyful moments by her side.
Share her good times. See her smiling and carefree.
Then, when she realized her mistake, I’d be there as emotional support, a friend, and confidant, to help her through the fallout.
A win for everyone. Except Jeff, because I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t poison him when he broke her heart.
Alicia pulled up to the curb, and I climbed into her ride. “Tell me about the multitasking,” she said.
I told her about my calls to the DMV and DWR.
Then I backtracked to recount the details of my night.
About how I’d basically broken into my old home though the side door Robert refused to fix, riffled through his desk, found my primary suite redecorated as a man cave, then the title for a thirty-four-thousand-dollar boat, in my name, hidden with Robert’s porn and documentation of the money we absolutely still had.
I died a little inside as I described my reckless means of escape and then finished with how Camilla and I had a great talk this morning.
“We did more than just make up,” I explained.
“We came to an acceptance and understanding. I think we’re going to be okay, and I’m not worried we’ll end up like my mom and me anymore.
Camilla and I are stronger, healthier. Better. ”
“Holy shit,” she said. “That’s a lot. Why didn’t you call me? Before you say it was late, or something equally ridiculous, this is the kind of news you wake up your best friend for.”
“I know.” And in the past, I would’ve called.
For decades I reached out to Alicia when I felt too overwhelmed to sort my tangled thoughts without help.
Lately, I enjoyed working through things on my own.
“I feel as if I’m putting out little fires all the time.
I barely get through one crisis and something else goes wrong.
Oh.” Virginia’s post and all my new orders came to mind, and I brought up the clip on my phone.
“Oh?” she asked. “What oh?”
“This,” I said, pressing Play. “Just listen. Keep your eyes on the road so we make it to the dress shop.”
Alicia’s face contorted at the sound of Virginia’s voice. Her expression eased as the clip ended. “Okay,” she said. “That could’ve been much worse. So what’s the plan? You’re going to be overrun with business after this.”
“I’m closed to new orders now.” I explained the updates on my website. Then I unloaded my biggest news last—Lucas offering me a free trip to France. Specifically to the region where my mom met my biological dad. A man I hadn’t been able to locate from this side of the Atlantic.
“No way!” She whipped off her sunglasses and hit my arm with them. “I can’t believe you didn’t call me!”
I pressed my lips together and shrugged while she found a parking space outside Southern Charm and cut the engine.
“Oh my god.” She unfastened her seat belt and slumped against the seat. “This is so huge. How is it real?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Which is why I didn’t call. I needed thinking time, and it felt like speaking it aloud might make it disappear.”
She rolled her head to face me. “It makes me sad that I’m just hearing about all of this. You always call.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Alicia offered a sad smile. “Don’t be. I like that you’re confident enough to know you can handle whatever comes on your own, and I love that you know you can fill me in later, when you’re ready.”
A breath of relief swept through me, as did a rush of pride. “I still need you. Don’t start thinking I don’t.”
I wanted her insight on everything. I wanted to dissect every detail of our lives over wine and laughs. I just didn’t need her to make decisions for me anymore. I could weigh her advice without relying on it. And that was monumental.
“Holy hell,” she whispered, replacing her sunglasses and dropping her keys into her purse. “You’re going to France!”