Chapter 12
MAUVE
Mauve was at her kitchen table wrapping the book she bought for Ollie’s Christmas gift when she heard a car pull into her driveway.
She glanced at the clock on her microwave.
It was only a little after six. Jason had texted to say he’d be closer to seven.
Was he early or was it a package arriving?
The doorbell rang as she headed out of the kitchen and across the living room.
She smiled as she opened it, fully expecting Jason.
It was not Jason. It was her mother.
She blinked to make sure she was seeing correctly. “Mom?”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called. But I was working up the courage until the very last minute.”
Cynthia Callahan wore an expensive looking cream wool coat, with a soft cashmere scarf tied around her throat.
She looked like she’d just stepped out of a salon.
Her light hair was highlighted with bright lemony tones and cut in a stylish bob.
And she had on flattering makeup. She looked twenty years younger than the last time Mauve had seen her.
Mauve stepped back, gesturing for her to come inside. “It’s cold. Come in. And it’s fine. I’m just shocked.”
Cynthia shrugged out of that gorgeous coat to reveal a pair of perfectly draped black slacks and a pink sweater.
As Mauve took the coat from her to hang in the closet, she noticed her mother’s hands.
Manicured. Tips perhaps, with pink polish that matched her sweater.
But that wasn’t the most remarkable thing, although her mother getting a professional manicure was definitely “remarkable.” It was her left hand. Bare. No wedding ring.
What was going on?
“Mom, where’s dad?”
“As far as I know, he’s sitting in his stupid chair watching football.”
Stupid? Mauve had never heard her mother say anything of the sort. She never criticized anyone, especially not her husband.
“Mom, what’s happening?”
“It’s a bit of a story. Could we have tea? And talk?”
“Yes, of course.” Mauve led her over to the couch.
Her mother stopped in front of the tree. “The ornaments I sent. You hung them?”
“That’s right. I haven’t had a tree since … Chris. So the timing was perfect.”
“They look nice.” She brought her hands to her face, eyes glistening. “Your grandmother loved choosing them for you. Every year. Mostly from the Hallmark store. Your father used to make fun of them. Called them overly priced and cheesy. One time he made her cry. I hated him for that.”
Hated him.
“Your home is beautiful, Mauve. I’m proud of you.”
She needed more information than that. “Mom, have you left Dad?”
“I’m afraid I have. Which is why I’m here. I’d like to tell you about it. All of it.”
She’d left him? How was this possible?
“You better come into the kitchen,” Mauve said. “Sit. I’ll make the tea.”
Mauve filled the kettle and set it on the burner.
Her mother sat at the small table, hands folded in her lap as the kettle began to tick.
Mauve got down two mugs and chose two bags of Earl Grey from her stash.
Her mother loved Earl Grey, but she never had it at home.
Will Callahan didn’t believe in any tea except Lipton black.
Every time Mauve had a cup of Earl Grey she thought about her mother, at home, drinking her inexpensive tea.
The kettle whistled. Mauve poured the boiling water into the mugs and joined her mother at the table.
“Oh, how lovely. I adore Earl Grey. David bought a case of it for me.”
“Who is David?”
Her mother looked at her across the table and drew in a deep breath. “Yes, right. I’m getting ahead of myself. Your father and I are divorced. I left eighteen months ago. Divorce was finalized six months after that.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No, honey, I wouldn’t joke about something like that.”
“Mom, I know. It’s a figure of speech.”
“I wanted to tell you before now, of course.”
“Why didn’t you?” Mauve asked.
“I couldn’t think of how to say it. I picked up the phone a hundred times, but always chickened out.”
“Does Millie know?”
“She does now. As of two days ago anyway.”
“What?”
“Your sister was quite supportive.”
“How could you keep this a secret for eighteen months?”
“It wasn’t a secret. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Where have you been living?” Mauve asked.
Her mother’s mouth curved into a slight smile, her eyes softening. “I’ve been renting an apartment. When I haven’t been at David’s.”
Mauve sat back in her chair. She was aware of the cold edge of the table under her palms. “David? Who’s David?”
Her mother didn’t answer immediately. She looked down at her hands, avoiding Mauve’s gaze. “He was my high school sweetheart.”
“And?” Mauve was growing impatient. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”
“He came to our high school reunion last summer. And well, to put it bluntly, we fell madly in love. Again.”
“Again.” Not a question, but one heck of a statement.
“Like I said, we were in love in high school. When we reconnected, it was like no time had passed. He’s wonderful. Charming and smart. So kind. Humble, even though he’s a world-renowned heart surgeon. You’d never know it to meet him that he saves lives every day.”
Mauve stared at this new version of her mother, feeling absolutely stunned into silence.
“He lives in upstate New York. I’m moving in with him, and we’re getting married. Which is why I’m here.”
“To invite me to the wedding?” She shook her head, continuing to stare.
“No, not that. Although I would love you to come. It’s that David insisted I tell you before we got officially engaged, not after. He’s at the inn, by the way. And I want you to meet him.”
“Wait. Did you leave Dad because of this man? David?”
“No, thankfully, the reunion was after our divorce was final. David would never have asked me out if I was still married. He’s very old-fashioned.”
“Does he have kids?”
“No. He wanted them, but his ex-wife didn’t.”
“I see.” She didn’t really see. She had no idea what was happening. Her mind was too jumbled with all of this new information to form a coherent thought. “How did you go from seeing him at the reunion to getting engaged?” All without telling either of your daughters, she thought to herself.
“We spent the entire weekend together, talking and talking. Reminiscing. But also expressing regret that we let the other one go. He told me he’d thought about me all these years. Just like I had.”
“You thought of him for years?”
“Every day, in fact.”
“Even though you were married to Dad?”
“That’s correct. I’m not proud of it, but I’m committed to telling you the truth.
From now on.” She paused, picking up her mug of tea, blowing the steam into a shape that resembled a semi-colon.
“He was accepted to college and I had chosen not to go … because of my mom. That was the first time she had cancer. So I stayed home to take care of her, and David kind of just disappeared. It was before email and all that, you know. Easier to lose track of a person back then. I met your dad and … my mother really wanted me to get married. So I did.” She set her mug aside without sipping from it.
“In hindsight, my father wanted to make sure I never left so I’d be there to take care of my mother.
He got what he wanted. Everyone did, it seems, except for me.
I was miserable for thirty-six years. Finally, one day, I looked in the mirror and realized I don’t have that many decades of life before me, and I sure as heck didn’t want to spend one more day with your father.
So I left him to his TV and his Miller Lite beer and started a new life. ”
“All without telling me.”
“This wasn’t about you, but I am sorry. I just needed to figure it out without any input from you or Millie. I hope you can forgive me for that.”
Mauve put her hands flat on the table. “Is Dad okay?”
Her mother looked at her steadily. “I have no idea. But I imagine he is. Once he figured out that he could live on frozen dinners, he had no use for me.”
“Mom. Really? That’s what you feel?”
“That’s what I feel. He wasn’t good to me, honey.
He never was. And I’ve been lonely. It was okay when you girls were still home.
I could focus all my energy and love on you two.
But after you both headed into your own lives, mine grew more and more unsatisfying.
No, that’s not the right word. It became unbearable.
I started to fantasize about a life on my own, and I just couldn’t let it go.
I had to save myself. No one else was going to. ”
“And this David—you’re sure about him?”
She smiled that same sweet smile from earlier.
The smile of a smitten woman. “Oh yes. I’m sure.
I should never have let him go. We have agreed that we should have fought harder to stay together.
It’s a deep regret. Although, then I wouldn’t have you and Millie, and that’s unthinkable.
” Her mother reached across the table and took Mauve’s hand.
Her fingers were warm. “Are you all right?”
Mauve looked at her mother’s hand on hers and didn’t pull away. “I’m in shock.”
“I’m sorry to spring this on you like this.”
“When can I meet this David?”
Before her mother could answer, the doorbell rang. Jason.
She had forgotten about him since her mother’s arrival. Completely.
“Are you expecting someone?” Cynthia asked.
“Yes, I am. Jason. He’s a friend of mine. A good friend.”
“How good?”
“As you said earlier, it’s a bit of a story. Can you stay here while I answer the door?”
“Yes, of course. Unless you want me to go back to the inn?”
“No, please stay.”
She hurried to the door. Jason stood on the porch with a brown paper bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. The moment he saw her face he set both down on the bench by the door.
“Hey. Hey. What is it?” He placed his hands on her shoulders.
“My mother’s here.”
“Your mother? Is here? Now?”