Chapter 15 #3
She turned first to look at Drew. “Andrew, sweetheart, why don’t you go make sure everyone has what they need and that your father has things under control.
” Her attention shifted to Jack and Max next.
“Jack, Maxine, food is set up in the dining room. Please continue to help yourself to anything you want.” Finally her attention landed on Annie, her dark blue eyes stormy with rage and embarrassment.
“Annie, a word upstairs please,” she said, her hand gripping Annie’s elbow as she led her away from the group where Max was looking helplessly at her, unsure what to do.
I’ve got this, she mouthed to Max, following her mother up the back stairs and down the hall into her father’s study.
The room was one Annie always associated with being in trouble.
Whenever she or her siblings needed to be reprimanded as kids, their father would call them into his study where he sat behind his expansive mahogany desk, doling out punishments fit for whatever crime they had committed.
Raindrops pelted glass window panes as the storm raged on outside, lightning illuminating the darkened room in eerie flashes that only further energized Annie.
“Anne Elizabeth Dillinger,” her mother said, soft and dangerous. The lethal combination of her full name had always been an indicator of how badly Annie had fucked up, but tonight she didn’t care. “What on earth were you thinking, causing a scene like that?”
Annie crossed her arms, rolling her eyes because she wouldn’t even call what transpired on the lawn minutes ago a scene—more like a sacrifice of Annie’s dignity at the hands of her own mother.
“All I said was you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.
What was that out there, Mom?” She pointed to the window, to the yard beyond, her voice cracking as she tried to understand the betrayal.
“Caroline of all people?” was all she managed to get out, tears threatening to push past the wall of strength she braced herself against.
Her mom gave an exasperated sigh, raising her hands up in the air before dropping them.
“Annie, you need to grow up. There is life and a bigger purpose beyond you and your feelings. We’re talking about the good of Wellington Point here.
Your father and I have always supported Kent and his politics. Why would that change with Caroline?”
A blinding flash of light illuminated the floor-to-ceiling bookcases, casting long shadows across the room. Booming thunder followed immediately—the storm now directly over them.
“Because she broke my heart. She lied. She manipulated me and she cheated on me.” Annie’s breath shook as she hoisted her deepest hurt to the surface. “Because I’m your daughter and you should have taken my side.” Her words shook as they spilled out of her.
“You’ve always been so dramatic. This has nothing to do with any of that,” her mother mumbled, crossing her arms defensively and completely sidestepping every one of Annie’s hurt feelings.
“There are two sides to every breakup, honey—a public and a private side. I’m sorry that privately Caroline hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to change the way our families have publicly interacted for decades.
How would that make me look to all of our friends? ”
Perception. The curse of Wellington Point that held her in shackles, unable to break free. Everything here centered around managing perception and other people’s expectations, and Annie was over it.
Another flash of lightning, followed by a subterranean grumble that started low and built, shaking the very foundation of the house, rattling the panes of glass as it filled Annie’s quiet rage.
Her mother’s voice attempted to mimic a soothing tone as she spoke softly. “The sooner you learn to accept that, the happier you’ll be, sweetheart.”
Tears rolled silently down Annie’s swollen cheeks, her arms wrapped tightly around her body in an attempt to self-soothe. Her mother’s gaze trailed over her before she stepped forward, reaching her hand out to wipe away her tears. But Annie didn’t let her.
She took a step back, away from her mother’s touch. “How can you turn around and try and comfort me now?” she asked, truly not understanding.
Her mother’s aggravated sigh followed her question. “I’m doing my best, Annie, but your feelings have always been too big, too much. You’re never settled.”
Annie’s heart shattered hearing those words fall from her mother’s perfectly lined lips. Too much. She had spent her entire life bending herself into different shapes trying to find the ones that pleased her mother the most, always coming up empty-handed.
She hiccuped, drawing on her inner strength to say the thing she needed to most. “I’m not too much, Mom.
” Her voice cracked, hidden in the rumblings of the passing storm.
“I wanted my mother to actually stand up for me and love me when I needed it most. Not repeatedly try to push me back towards someone who hurt me. But for the last nine months you’ve made me feel so bad for what Caroline did to me.
Made me feel like I should have tried harder to make things work with her when I was the one who got my heart obliterated.
And now that I’ve finally gotten myself to a place where I feel like I’m in love—” She choked, her words vulnerable and full of the very real feelings she carried for Max.
“Now that I’m healed and have some semblance of a plan again you’re still here rubbing it in my face that at the end of the day, you loved Caroline more than you have ever loved me, your own child. ”
The room was growing lighter as the gray storm clouds moved on, the sounds of thunder becoming a distant noise paired with an occasional flash of lightning still hanging in the sky.
“You know how much I love you.”
“How. How would I know, Mom? You never tell me,” she shot back. Wanting to hear her mom say it, Annie racked her mind; she couldn’t recall a time since she had moved home when her mother had uttered those three words to her.
“Because I cleared the way for you to have a big life. Don’t you see that?”
Okay, now Annie was confused. “What? What does that have to do with any of this?”
“Who do you think spent the last decade repeatedly telling Kent McHenry to get his homophobia in check so you and Caroline could have the biggest life possible? You were going to be the town commissioner’s wife, and who do you think laid all that groundwork for you?
I did. Because I love you. I made sure the Dillinger name meant something—that it mattered.
That was me. Look at how the town respects us.
When you came out to your dad and me, I knew you would never let anything stand in your way, but I also knew how horrible people can be to those who are different, and you, Annie, have always been different.
I made it so that when you and Caroline were ready to move back here, Wellington Point would be ready for you.
You could have been powerful together. That is what I’ve always wanted for you because I love you,” she choked out.
Annie stared at her mom in disbelief, the reality setting in that, for years, her mom had been working behind the scenes to make her life easier, but only if Annie stayed on the predetermined path laid out for her.
“You never asked me what I wanted or needed to feel loved,” she said, carefully choosing her words as her mind still tried to wrap itself around her mother’s revelation. “You decided for me and then got upset when I didn’t like it.”
Silence hung in the space between them, neither attempting to fill it for several long moments.
“Wellington Point has always made me feel incredibly tiny,” Annie said finally.
“Like I’m existing under a microscope where I’m being studied, and everyone is constantly looking for a slip up or moment of imperfection to use as their next piece of gossip.
” She took a deep breath. “And while Caroline made my life a little bigger, it maxed out pretty quickly because at the end of the day, she’s the perfect embodiment of this place.
You were right when you said she was a reflection of the values of Wellington Point. ”
Annie’s point landed cleanly and precisely, stinging in the exact way she had intended as she held a mirror up to the place and the people who had raised her.
“Annie—” Her mother tried to interject, but Annie held up her hand.
“I’m done, Mom. I don’t have anything else valuable or productive to contribute to this conversation.
I’m sorry all of this played out the way it did, but I will never be sorry for telling you exactly how I feel.
All I can do is hope you actually heard me this time,” she said with quiet finality as she moved towards the door, placed her hand on the cool metal doorknob, and paused for a moment to collect herself before slipping out into the hall.
Her mother didn’t say anything, and Annie had said all she needed to.