Chapter 28 #2
My throat was thick with tears. “Because nobody loves me like Dad did. He taught me what real love looks like. He taught me how to love with my whole heart, without holding back. I love you, you jerk.” And now I was crying for real, hot, messy tears that welled from my eyes and streaked my face.
“Which, given that you haven’t said you love me back, could be a terrible mistake.
But at least I’m getting on with my life. ”
“Except for the texts from Dr. Dick.”
“My life doesn’t revolve around Chris! I don’t care about Chris. I’m talking about you taking a chance. Not settling. Getting out of your rut. At least I’m willing to put myself out there.”
“Good for you. Some of us don’t have that luxury.”
I swiped my snotty nose with my wrist. “And some of us are too afraid to try.”
He glared, his brown eyes burning, his jaw a block of wood.
I waited, raw and vulnerable. And when he didn’t say anything else—anything at all—I left.
—
Nothing grounded you in the present like babysitting a two-year-old.
Hard to mope when I was jumping from cushion to cushion on Daanis’s living room floor, pretending the carpet was hot lava.
But all that toddler energy was exhausting.
I was almost relieved when Daanis returned from the clinic and I could hand back Rose and slink off to my destined-to-die-childless-and-unattached existence.
Almost. Maybe it was time to get a dog.
“How did it go?” Mom asked as I came through the door.
“Namid had a perfect one-week checkup! She lost a little weight, but Daanis says that’s normal for newborns.”
Mom glanced over the back of the couch. “I meant your interview. Didn’t you talk to Ed Olson this morning?”
I wasn’t used to Mom asking about my day. It was…nice. “Yeah. I reminded him about the snake incident in seventh grade and he laughed.”
“And…?”
“And…” I took a deep breath, controlling the jitters in my stomach. “I got the job.”
“Good.” Mom returned her attention to Family Feud. “You’re all set, then.”
I nodded. Apparently our improved communication did not extend to chitchat. That was okay. For at least the next year, I had a chance to do the job I loved surrounded by people who loved me. I had time to figure out my next steps, to follow my own path, to write my own story.
Walking home with the sun on my face, breathing in the familiar compound of flowers, fudge, and horse manure, I’d been embraced by the beauty of the island, the blue of the water sparkling under the bowl of the sky, stretching to a limitless horizon.
As I climbed the hill to the Village, I’d stopped to carry Mrs. Johnson’s groceries up the steps to her condo.
Hailey and Liv waved from the porch of the Lipinskys’ house.
I could have both girls in class next year.
The web of connections cradled me like a hammock, holding me together.
Turned out old John Donne was right. No man was an island. Or woman, either.
Which didn’t change the fact that I was in love with Joe Miller, and he didn’t feel the same about me.
I checked my phone, which I’d been doing every fifteen minutes for the past five days. Chris had sent a photo of the square near his apartment in Decatur, a statue of a globe surrounded by flying figures. At least it wasn’t a dick pic.
I tucked my phone away and flung myself onto the couch. “Mom…”
“Shh.”
Steve Harvey was quizzing the contestants on TV. “You’re old enough to… blank.”
“Know better,” my mother said.
Number one answer.
“Good job, Mom.”
She snorted. I settled in beside her, grabbing a pillow, taking comfort in her sturdy presence and the distraction of the TV.
“You’re old enough to…”
“Move out?” I suggested.
“Drive,” Mom said.
Ding-ding-ding.
“Speaking of driving…” I hugged the pillow to my stomach. “Okay if I borrow the car for a couple days? I need to move out of my apartment.”
“Car’s not big enough.”
“I don’t have that much. I emailed Paige—the graduate student renting my apartment? She’s taking over my lease. She wants to buy most of the furniture.” And most of what she didn’t, I would put out on the curb.
“You need a U-Haul,” my mother said. “Or a truck.”
“I don’t trust myself on the highway with a U-Haul. Or a truck.”
“So ask Joe.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I can’t. We had a fight.”
Steve Harvey invited another pair of contestants to face off at the podium.
“Bound to happen sometimes. You’re quick-tempered, and he’s stubborn. You’ll work it out,” Mom said calmly.
“I yelled at him at the Mustang in front of his ex-wife and half the fire department.”
Mom grunted. “You have a good heart. You’re like your dad that way. But sometimes you don’t think things all the way through.”
“I told him I loved him,” I blurted.
She muted the volume on the TV. “Did you, now.”
“He didn’t say it back.”
A silence, while the on-screen families jumped up and down in excitement.
“Don’t be too hard on Joe,” Mom said at last. “He’s finding his way, too. It’s been hard on him since your dad died.”
I’d always known my mother loved Joe. It used to bother me, as if she might run out of love if she spread it around. My dad was the one who understood me, who believed in me. But he’d believed in Joe, too. He gave Joe his start and made him partner. He’d been his friend, his father, almost.
I bit my lip. “I just wish he’d talk to me.”
“Not everybody goes around sharing their feelings, Annie. Doesn’t mean they don’t have them.”
A huff escaped me, a laugh or a scoff. “That’s what he said about you.”
“He’s not so stupid, then. Just slow.” She glanced at me, almost smiling. “You never did want to walk when you could run.”
My heart expanded in my chest. I twisted my wrists, staring down at my matching tattoos. The chisel for my dad, the quote from Anne of Green Gables. Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet.
Working with fudge, when you made a mistake, you tossed out that batch and made a new one. Working with wood, you sanded it out or repurposed it as scrap. But when you made a mistake with people, it was harder to start over.
I ran my thumb over the yet. “I screwed up, didn’t I?”
My mother reached over and patted my knee. “Nothing wrong with making a mistake. As long as you learn from it.”
“The problem is, I keep making new ones.”
Mom huffed. “You do. But you don’t let that stop you. Everything you’ve ever wanted, you’ve fought for. Going to college, getting that scholarship, finding a job in the middle of a pandemic.”
“I didn’t fight for Chris. I didn’t fight for my old job.”
“Guess you didn’t really want them, then.”
My mouth dropped open. Was that true?
“You want to be with Joe, do something about it.” Mom reached for the remote. “In the meantime, you can have the car. A couple days away will be good for both of you.”
“When did you get so smart?”
My mother’s lips twitched. “I’ve always been smart. Where do you think you got your brains from?”
I tossed the cushion from my lap and leaned over, resting my head on her shoulder. After a moment, her other arm wrapped around me. I closed my eyes, breathing in the familiar smell of chocolate.
It felt like all my life, I’d wanted my mother to understand me, to accept me, to love me. But Mom had loved me all along. Maybe what I really needed was to understand her, to love her, a little better.
“Beverly invited me to go with her and Zoe to the Mustang tonight,” I said. “To celebrate my new job.”
Mom sniffed. “Waste of good money, if you ask me.”
I pulled back to look in her face. “Do you want to come with us?”
She smiled slowly. “All right.”