Chapter 17 Shiloh #2
My breath caught in my throat, my heart dropping as I clutched the jamb, not believing my own eyes.
“What…what are you doing here?”
“I flew in late yesterday,” Mama said, her gaze darting everywhere and finally landing on me. Taking me in. She took a fortifying breath and stood taller. “To talk to you, Shiloh.”
“You came all this way to talk to me? It’s seven in the morning.”
“You’re eighteen now, and I think it’s time,” she said, her hands gripping and twisting the strap on her purse. “I waited eighteen years, and suddenly, I can’t wait another minute.”
I fell back from the door to let her in, staring. She wore blue jeans and a red sweater under her coat. A yellow headband kept her curls back.
Blue, red, and yellow. The primary colors… I thought and wondered if I were losing my mind.
“Hello, Marie,” Bibi said warily.
“Hello, Bibi. How are you feeling?”
“That depends,” she replied pointedly.
Bibi moved to the couch and sank down with a heavy sigh. I couldn’t take my eyes off Mama, afraid she’d disappear if I blinked.
“What’s…what’s happening? Is Bertie okay? Uncle Rudy?”
“They’re fine. I told you, we need to talk.” Mama clutched her bag like a shield. She looked younger somehow than she had this summer. More fragile. She wasn’t in her territory now but mine. “Now that I’m here…I don’t know if I made the right decision.”
“Marie,” Bibi warned and shook her head.
“No!” I cried. “I’m glad you’re here.” I drew her inside and shut the door behind her. “I want to talk to you. I always want to talk to you.”
Mama came in reluctantly, her gaze clashing with Bibi in a way I didn’t understand.
“Do you want some juice? Or coffee?”
I heard the desperation in my own voice, but Mama was here. She wouldn’t have bought a flight and flown six hours for a conversation that could happen over the phone. This was it. She was here to tell me who my father was and what happened between them. Everything.
“No, thank you. Maybe we can speak privately?”
“Of course. The patio?”
Mama immediately headed for the back.
Bibi took my hand. “Shiloh, wait…”
“It’s fine. I want to hear this. More than anything.”
Even if it scares me to death.
Her grip tightened. “Listen to me, Shiloh. You know who you are. Whatever she says, whatever she tells you can’t change that.”
“That’s just it,” I whispered. “I don’t know who I am. She’s going to tell me. Finally.”
Bibi closed her eyes for a moment and let go of my hand. “I suppose this day had to come eventually.”
Her resignation that something awful was about to happen squeezed the knot in my stomach, but I hurried to join my mother in the backyard. On the patio, sprinklers had left the wrought-iron chairs and table wet with droplets like glass beads.
“We could go to my room?” I suggested.
“We don’t have to sit,” Mama said. Indeed, she looked like she was ready to bolt. “How is Bibi? Any more dizzy spells?”
“None. She’s doing great.”
“She’s getting up there, and I know her vision is declining.”
I squared my shoulders. “Are you afraid you might have to take me back?”
Mama flinched and looked beyond me to the shed. “That’s new.”
“Ronan built it,” I blurted.
“Who is Ronan?”
“He’s…” I realized I didn’t know how to answer that, and an ache panged in my heart, adding to the boulder that sat on my chest to see my mother—a stranger in my own backyard.
“It’s nice,” she said.
“It’s for my work,” I said. “It’s what I do, Mama. I make jewelry until my eyes water and my fingers burn. I work instead of doing almost anything else.”
“So you can open your own business.”
“Yes, for that. But also…” I swallowed down a jagged lump of pride. “To prove myself to you. Make you proud. But it doesn’t feel like that’s possible.”
Her dark eyes met mine, and she was quiet for long moments.
“Mama?”
“Do you know the origin of your name, Shiloh?”
My brows furrowed. “Bibi said it means ‘tranquil.’”
“That’s very Bibi of her to tell you that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She ignored my sharp, protective tone or didn’t hear it. She wandered the patio, touching the delicate pink and purple fuchsias hanging in a pot from the corner of the pergola.
“Our ancestors fought in the Civil War. The First Louisiana Native Guard. Did you know that?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. “Uncle Rudy has a framed sketch of Captain Andre Cailloux on the wall of his study.”
Mama nodded. “My daddy—your grandpa—used to tell me the stories his grandpa told him. He said the Battle of Shiloh was one of the bloodiest of the war.”
“Was our family involved?”
“No. Black soldiers never fought in that battle, but the name stuck with me. Because deciding to keep you or not…that was a battle.”
The backyard was suddenly airless. Still.
“And?” I asked tightly. “Did you win, Mama? Or did you lose?”
She said nothing, but it was all there in that silence. In her eyes that couldn’t look at me.
The ground under my feet swayed as if I were on a sinking ship; I gripped the back of a chair to keep from falling.
“Oh, Shiloh. I was nineteen. In love.” She scoffed weakly. “As if I knew what that was. I had a promising future ahead of me, and I gave it up. For him. Biggest mistake of my life.”
I thought I was the biggest mistake of your life.
I nearly said the words, but she was so close to letting go of the truth at long last. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest.
Mama’s eyes shone, her lips parted, she inhaled…and then she stepped back from the edge, stuffing it all back down.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she said, her voice steady again. Cold. “I’m not ready. Bibi knows that. It’s why I’m not welcome here.” She smiled ruefully. “She knows me better than I know myself.”
“What… No! Please, Mama.” I leaned over the chair, gripping it so hard the cold metal dug painfully into my fingers. “Keep talking to me. Who is he? My father…tell me—”
But it was too late. Only the patio table stood between us, but she may as well have been back on the other side of the country. On the other side of the world.
“You don’t have a father, Shiloh,” she said stiffly.
“I lost the battle, but you’re the casualty, and I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.” She moved around the table and raised her hand to my cheek; her fingers were cold on my skin.
“Nothing is your fault. Remember that. Not one thing. I only wish I were stronger. For your sake. I tried but…”
Her hand fell, and she turned for the door.
“You’re leaving?” I stared, my breath coming hard. “You just got here. You haven’t told me anything. Only cryptic…bullshit.”
She acted as if she hadn’t heard me. At the patio door, she turned. “I’m not enough of a mother to give you advice. I haven’t earned it, but I’ll give it anyway. Be careful, Shiloh. Be very careful. Love will make you do stupid things.”
“Like me,” I said, my voice wavering. “I’m the stupid thing you did.”
She didn’t answer me but went into the house, leaving me alone on the patio, her silence the only reply.
The backyard blurred as if I were underwater. Slowly, I made my way inside. Bibi was on the couch, stroking one of the cats. Mama was already gone.
“What just happened?” I said.
“Oh, honey. Come sit.”
I sank down beside Bibi, staring at the door.
“What did she say to you, Shiloh? Did she…”
“Tell me the truth? No.” I turned my head on a stiff neck. “You have to tell me, Bibi. Tell me everything you know.”
“I can’t—”
“Do you know who my father is? Do you know what happened between him and Mama?” I felt tears gather in the back of my throat. “I’m the battle she lost, Bibi. That’s what she came to tell me.”
Bibi’s eyes fell shut. “Lord, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“So is she. Everyone is sorry, but no one will tell me anything.”
“It’s not my place,” she said. “It’s up to your mother to unlock her heart for you or not. I’m angry with her for showing up out of the blue when I knew she wasn’t ready. Saying things that would only hurt and confuse you.” She shook her head grimly. “Foolishness.”
“I hate feeling this way,” I said quietly. “With her but with you too.”
“I know. But it can’t be helped. I made a promise. And keeping one’s word means something.”
“Even if it hurts me?”
She shook her head, her warm face that I’d turned to for comfort a thousand times now stiff and unmovable, her tone firm. “I’m sorry for that, Shiloh. But I also made a promise to myself. To only ever do what I think is best for you. To protect your happiness.”
I understood her meaning, and the dread sank heavier in my stomach. Telling me the truth is worse than keeping me in the dark.
I pushed off the couch. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m going to lie down. Do you need anything?”
“No, honey, but wait…”
I did something I’d never done before; I ignored her and went to my room. My heart, already cracked wide, cracked again for the rift between us. I curled up on my bed and didn’t go to school that day. Or the next.
Or the one after that.
My phone chimed with texts until I put it on silent without looking at them.
On the third afternoon I’d spent lying on the couch in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, watching her programs with her, Bibi stood over me, hands on her hips.
“You just going to lie around for…how long? You’re missing a lot of school.”
“I’m taking a few personal days.”
“This isn’t like you, Shiloh.”
Isn’t it? Who’s to say? I don’t know who I am.
She sighed at my silence and sat down next to me, her hand gentle on my shoulder.
I couldn’t resent her for keeping whatever promise she’d made to Mama, but it had taken these three painful days to get us back to where we’d been—about the same amount of time for the shock of my mother’s sudden visit to wear off.
But the hangover wouldn’t quit.
A pain had lodged deep in my chest or heart…or maybe deeper than that. A knife stab in my damn soul. I thought about Ronan’s mother. It was horrible he’d lost her, but maybe that was better than having her alive and walking the earth, thinking her own kid was a battle she’d fought and lost.