Chapter 43 #2
“It was terrible for people when I lost my family. They had no idea what to say in the face of such a huge tragedy. I know people felt so sad for me and for what happened, but I also had . . . zero grace or compassion for most things that came out of people’s mouths.
” Madeline sighed heavily. “Or they’d extend so much sympathy, express so much sadness on my behalf that I’d almost feel trapped, like I should try to comfort them. ”
“Ugh,” Vic said. “That’s awful.”
Madeline gave a small smile of agreement. “Now, with time, I have more grace—usually.” She shrugged. “At the time I just didn’t have it in me.”
Vic shuddered. “I still think I want to err on the side of saying something, though. I’d never want someone to feel like I’m ignoring their sorrow.”
Gwen sipped her wine. “Same. And since what one person finds comforting or consoling, someone else might find intrusive, we just have to blunder on the best we can.”
“I agree with that too—better to blunder on the side of showing love and care than to avoid topics just because they’re hard.”
Vic nodded vigorously. “It’s one of the things I so appreciate about you, Madeline. How you just say things, address things, even really hard things, matter-of-factly. It’s inspiring, really.”
“It is, for sure,” Gwen said.
“I’m trying to be more upfront in all areas of my life too.”
“Well, thank you both. It’s interesting because I don’t see myself that way at all. I see myself as a big ol’ chicken.”
Vic and Gwen both laughed. “Well, heaven help the world if you ever stop being ‘chicken’ then,” Gwen teased gently.
Madeline grinned. “Fair point.”
Conversation flowed to lighter things, but for Vic, it almost didn’t matter what they talked about.
She just loved that they did talk—about everything.
Funny stuff, serious stuff, all the stuff.
Spending time with Madeline and Gwen made something very clear to Vic: she should’ve spent more of her life cultivating her friendships with women.
Neglecting platonic friendship had been a mistake she’d never make again.
The house was dark when the cab dropped her off, and she slipped inside, happily buzzing with camaraderie and the lovely feeling of being a part of something.
She was headed upstairs for a quick shower, then bed, when Audra stepped into the hall, blocking her way, mouth pinched, face a storm cloud.
What now? Vic thought. And how long has she been lying in wait in the dark for me to come home?
“I knew it!” Audra said, her shrill voice a strange mix of victorious accusation.
“What did you know?”
“You were never serious about staying and helping me. You just can’t get out fast enough.”
For flip’s sake. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard you before you sailed out of here like the Queen of Sheba earlier! I heard you!
“What?”
“Turning down some rental place. Don’t try to deny it! And now you’ve been out all night, doing who knows what. Planning your new digs most likely.”
It took Vic a solid minute to figure out what Audra was talking about, and then she was incredulous. “Are you referring to my message to Cal earlier about his sister’s place? As you said, I turned it down. You heard me.”
“If someone offered you a place, obviously you’ve told people you’re looking for one—or why would they tell you?”
Vic glanced at her phone. But the hour didn’t really matter. It was time. Past time.
“Please sit down, Mom. We need to have a conversation.”
“Oooo, a ‘conversation,’” Audra mocked. “Sounds serious.”
Vic just nodded and took a seat at the table.
The quiet, non-emotional response seemed to startle Audra into compliance. She did as Vic asked, taking a chair opposite her.
“What’s all this about then?” Audra asked, her face and tone tough.
Vic swallowed hard and did something she rarely had in her whole life. She told Audra what she honestly thought.
She started with how she was doing her best to be a good daughter and to help take care of her. Next, she shared her deep concerns about Audra’s health.
“Seeing a doctor is no longer a suggestion, Mom. It’s a must,” she added.
Audra glared at her balefully and made no reply.
“And regardless of how you feel about me or the way I take care of you or the house, or all the perceived ways I’m a failure in your eyes, there will be no more screaming or yelling or making insulting comments to me.”
As Vic spoke, holding her hand up at two different intervals to stave off indignant interruptions, Audra’s face lost its angry taunting sneer. She seemed almost . . . vulnerable.
“So, that’s it, I guess,” Audra huffed. “You get your wish, and I get no say. I’m a terrible burden and a monster to live with, so you’ll go off with that wrench monkey and leave me alone here to rot.”
“What?” Vic could hardly formulate a response. After everything she’d said, that was how Audra summed it up? That’s what she heard. “That is not what I was saying at all. God, Mom—you’re impossible.”
“I’m impossible! You’ve been wanting to leave me ever since you were thirteen and met that druggie loser dropout Gerome.”
Gerome. Now there was an unwelcome blast from the past. And maybe Vic had wanted him to take her far away from Greenridge, but who could blame her? Audra today was a walk in the park compared to Audra back then.
“He—no surprise to anybody but you—was a waste of space and didn’t last long, but then it was always another boy, wannabe man until you met Kyle and got yourself knocked up.”
Vic flinched. She, of course, knew her pathetic life story, but hearing it boiled down to one sad, not inaccurate sentence was brutal.
“Any other girl would’ve turned to her mother for help and support, but you? Oh no, not you. You had to pretend your story would be different, that you were different, better than anybody else.”
Vic blinked. Audra’s take on how Vic had felt during that terrible, scary time compared to how Vic had really felt was . . . not even apples to oranges or night to day. They were different universes of aliens that had no concept of each other’s existence.
“So, then you moved away with that pretty-talking orangutan and kept my grandson from me—and for what? He was gone in a year, and still, you never came home.”
Vic shook her head. There was something new in this version of Audra’s unhappiness. What was it?
Something that sounded shockingly like a sob escaped Audra.
“And I knew it! I knew you’d do it to me again, but still I thought maybe, just maybe, this time would be different—but now, here we are.
I’m one foot in the grave, you’re the wrong side of fifty, and you’re still like a cat in heat, looking for anyone to take you away from here.
From me. Just like your no-good, waste-of-skin, pathetic-excuse-of-a-man father—”
Vic held up her hand. “I’m going to stop you right there.”
“You’re what?”
Vic lifted her hand in the stop motion again. Audra scowled.
It had been a horrible tirade, filled with a lot to unpack. But Audra’s thinly—and not so thinly—veiled attacks barely pricked Vic.
She realized something shocking. Audra was scared.
Scared of being abandoned by her. Of being left again.
It was totally, utterly, in every single way, absolutely messed up, but somehow Audra had been so convinced that Vic was going to leave her that she pushed her away.
Unbelievably and pathologically, Audra had somehow put all her abandonment trauma onto Vic.
And Vic, who once upon a time, not so long ago, would’ve relished the opportunity to have it out with Audra about her childhood and how Audra had treated her, found now that the chance had finally arrived, she had no energy or desire to dredge up the past and tell Audra how unhinged she was and how awful her treatment of her had been—and still mostly was.
She reached across the table and rested her hand over Audra’s trembling, veiny one.
“I think you misunderstood me, Mom. I’m not going anywhere. Please don’t worry or be afraid. I meant it when I told you I’d come back to stay and help you out. We are going to make you a doctor’s appointment, though, and you’re going to go.”
“I’ll—”
Vic shook her head. “It’s non-negotiable.”
“And if I go see one of those idiots, you won’t rush off with Wrench Monkey?”
“I was never planning to ‘rush off’ with Wre—Cal, Mom. But yes, that’s right. You will go to a doctor. We’ll check some health things—maybe look into that COPD or whatever you mentioned the other day, and I’ll be right here with you through whatever happens.”
Audra’s mouth pursed, but she didn’t say anything.
“And you absolutely do get a say. You can pick the doctor you see. If there’s something you need or want that I’m not doing, you can ask me. You just can’t be mean to me. Not anymore.
“Fine.” Audra flattened her palms on the table and pushed herself up to standing.
“Okay, then . . . good.” Vic was at a loss for words yet again, so fell back to a comfortable routine—but at least it was a healthier one than some of theirs. “How about a cup of tea before bed?”
“That’d be nice . . . Thank you.” Audra started down the hallway without waiting for Vic’s answer, making a quiet tsss-tsss-tsss sound that she used to call Christmas.
Shaking her head, Vic put the kettle on.