Dawn
Morbus hid for a long time, and in his absence, Vineland flourished with all the elixirs flowing freely at last. Phoebe supposed he wasn’t yet ready to be loved, but she hoped someday he would accept it.
—Saving Vineland
“Mom? When did you get here?”
She came closer to me, though Mom hung back.
Winnie was close enough for me to tell she smelled like an expensive candle that might be labeled “Ocean.” I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to shake her hand or hug her or what, but I offered her my right hand awkwardly and said, with as sincere a smile as I could muster, “Hi, Winnie. I’m sorry for the unannounced visit.
” What had I been thinking? Why hadn’t I called first?
Or emailed? But Winnie’s eyes were steady on mine, and her smile was expansive and joyful.
Surely sensing my sudden discomfort, Audrey stepped forward and took both of Winnie’s hands in hers and said, “I’m Audrey. It’s so nice to meet you.” Then she tilted her head and waved to my mother. “And it’s great to see you, Miranda,” she chirped.
Crossing the room to Mom was hard, as if the air between us had to be cleared of the thicket of secrets and fears and untrue stories we’d told ourselves to get to this place. And I was totally naked as I hacked my way through it.
“Thank you for sending Winnie’s story, Mom,” I said, my palms sweaty. “Your story,” I amended. “And you were right about me not being myself lately.”
I looked back over my shoulder at Winnie, who had an aura like a saint in a Renaissance painting; then I turned back to Mom. “I have things to tell you, too. I’ve been struggling”—I went on in a quieter voice—“with my drinking. I’ve been so afraid of telling you.”
“It’s alright,” she rushed to say, putting her hands on my arms.
My chin trembled at this immediate acceptance. “It is?”
“There is nothing you could do that would change my love for you,” she said, her voice low and determined. She squeezed my arms for emphasis.
“Same,” I said.
Then we were hugging and crying. I didn’t think I’d ever seen or heard my mother cry before, and it was such a huge relief.
After I pulled slowly out of Mom’s embrace but held on to her hand, I turned back to Winnie and said, “Thank you. I’m so glad you wrote…what you wrote.”
She stepped forward with a smile and took my hand in hers again. She offered her other hand to Mom, who clasped it. We were three, an unbroken circle that had never truly been severed.
“And Phoebe accepted the challenge, and knew her life would never be the same,” I said, quoting the last line from the first book of Vineland. I glanced at Audrey, who winked back.
“Never in my wildest dreams did I think those books would have the power they’ve had,” said Winnie.
“You always had it in you,” said Miranda to her sister. And then to me: “As do you.”
“And I want to hear all about that,” said Winnie. “I want to hear all about everything.”
And for the first time, I was ready to tell it all.