22. Misconception
Chapter twenty-two
Misconception
Maggie
Iwas bubbly and full of smiles on the way to see Mom.
Everything was fine until I walked in the door.
Father paced in the kitchen, grumbling, so I went into the sunroom to hear Mom tell the nurse what an awful night she’d had, making my heart fall.
The hospice nurse nodded compassionately before administering some medicine to help her rest. When the nurse gave me a sorrowful look on her way out, it felt like she was trying to tell me something.
Not wanting to think about that, I picked up the book we’d been reading from the nightstand.
After only fifteen minutes, Mom softly snored.
Since I was glad to see her finally getting the rest she needed, I sat with her in silence for a while, memorizing her features and enjoying the view to the back of the house where Father maintained the gardens.
I’d always thought it was so sweet how he gardened for her. Seeing how well-maintained they were brought tears to my eyes. I knew he loved her and saw the signs of it everywhere in the way he cared for her and everything around the house.
The moment I went into the kitchen to talk with Father to see if there was anything I could do for him, he snapped.
“It isn’t proper,” he said. “You shouldn’t be reading that trash to her.”
I narrowed my eyes. “It’s the book she chose. Why are you upset with me?”
“The way you live, alone in the city, looking like that, it isn’t proper. If you aren’t going to wear the proper attire, you shouldn’t come here,” he declared.
At this point, I had two options. One to argue and the other to comply. He was upset after a bad night for Mom, so I tried to choose an option to deescalate the situation.
“Why don’t I go for now? She needs her rest, and so do you. I’ll come back this afternoon,” I suggested.
“Not unless you’re wearing the proper attire,” he snapped.
Taking a deep breath, I blew it out with a fake smile and left. I headed for the downtown to find a store to buy a long, flowy skirt to go over the top of what I wanted to wear and would everywhere but in that house.
“Maggie?” a voice shouted from across the street.
“Suzie?” I screeched, racing across the street.
With our squeals and shrieks, we ran into each other’s arms and hugged for ages before we pulled apart.
“Wow, you look incredible,” she said with a bright smile.
I held her arms out to see her beautiful floral dress. “So do you. When can we catch up?”
“Now, for a few minutes at least,” she said, hauling me to The Coffee Hut. Standing at the drive-thru, we ordered two lattes and caught up on how things were going with her two little boys and her husband, Kyle. She showed me a picture of them, and I couldn’t believe how much they’d grown.
“My shop is just down the way. I sell soap, lotion, and many bath products that are clean, safe, and good for the environment,” she said proudly. “I’d take you, but I have to run one of the boys to the doctor. Ear infection again.”
It had been too long since we’d talked, so I soaked up the feeling of being around her. Her presence was so calming.
“Aw, I hope he feels better. But look at you. I’m so happy for you,” I said, eager to get there and see what she sold. “You look great, and Heavenly Scents is definitely the cutest shop on the block.”
Suzie beamed with the compliment. “Thank you. And what about you? Have you been traveling?”
Wincing, I took a sip of my latte. “Not lately.”
“I thought you were going to travel the world, taking pictures everywhere you went. Wasn’t that the dream?” she asked.
I lifted one shoulder casually. “I thought so, but most of what I do is in Chicago. I do go on trips occasionally, but Brenda relies on me to help with the temperamental accounts. I have an eye for details that makes customers happy.”
While Suzie looked like she wanted to say something, she didn’t.
“Well, we should take a picture together and schedule a time to have some girl talk. I’ve missed you,” she said, fishing out her phone from a giant purse.
After she took the photo of us smiling, I gave her a side hug. “I’d love that. Text me when you have time. I don’t want to interrupt your family time.”
“I deserve to have some time for myself,” she said as if she wanted to believe it but didn’t quite buy into that concept. “Soon, okay?”
I nodded. “Whenever I’m not spending time with Mom, I’m all yours.”
Suzie gave me another huge hug. “I’m so sorry to hear she’s sick. Hospice was there?”
News traveled fast in Buena Vista.
“Yeah, and she had a bad night, so I don’t really know what to expect,” I said, failing to keep the trembling out of my voice.
I still didn’t know how to talk about Mom without getting choked up and had a feeling it was going to be like that for a while.
“I’m here for you, sweetie. You just call or text me anytime,” she said, grabbing her keys from her purse.
“One thing before you go,” I said, catching her before she left. “Where could I find a long skirt these days?”
Suzie pointed to a newer store I didn’t recognize down the block. “The Pink Poodle.”
I quickly thanked her, then went down to check it out. Inside, they had several long, flowy skirts that would be perfect to put over a pair of capris. Buying three different patterns of them, I thanked the sweet storeowner and left.
The next hour or so I spent with my camera at the park.
A few times, I set my latte down to snap a few shots of something that caught my eye.
I tried to get used to that feeling of knowing when there was a good shot to take and when it was not worth the time.
Instead, I ended up photographing everything.
A flower growing through a crack in the sidewalk.
A group of birds flying overhead. A squirrel popping up out of a trash can.
Cringing, I realized it would take time to refine my eye again if I was going to make a go of photography fit for a gallery.
The day passed slowly until I went back to my parents’ house. I tugged one of the long skirts over my capris in the driveway and went inside.
This time, Mom was awake and in better spirits.
“How are you feeling?” I asked her.
From the way her face lit up as I entered the room, I was cautiously optimistic about spending some quality time with her.
“Better,” she said, pointing to the book. “Would you read to me again?”
Knowing Father wasn’t happy about it, I closed the sunroom door and read the book Mom preferred. It was her choice what she wanted to hear.
When we reached the point right before what appeared to be a sexually graphic scene, Mom said, “That’ll do for today.”
“What a place to end,” I said, fanning my face.
Mom gave me a knowing look. “Dear girl, that’s not an end. It’s just the beginning.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, and it must have shown on my face.
“Sex isn’t the end of anything, you know, right? It’s an opportunity for connection. We never really talked about it, so I’m not even sure if you know about it,” she said, turning away. “I was never brave enough to broach the topic with you, and in doing so, I did you a disservice.”
Placing my hand on her arm, I didn’t want her thinking that. “That’s not true. I don’t know when it would have come up. I wasn’t interested in any boys who liked me back.”
“Yes, you were,” Mom insisted. “Paul loved you that way. I saw it in his eyes, and I should have told you, even back then. All of these years, I knew it, too. He never dated anyone, you know.”
I remembered she’d said that before and blushed.
“Neither of us have,” I admitted.
“So, you’ve never been with a man?” Mom asked. “Even in Chicago?”
I shook my head, my cheeks feeling too hot. “I’m a little nervous about it, actually.”
“When you have the right person, it’ll be the most natural thing in the world.
You’ll communicate enough out loud and with your bodies to make sure it’s good for both of you.
Speak up if it’s not. You can both work it out when you know what the trouble is, but that goes for life stuff, too. Paul will listen. I know it.”
As on and off as Paul seemed to be, I wasn’t even sure what was going to happen tonight. He’d given me mixed messages yesterday and hadn’t texted me at all today.
“I’m not sure Paul is ready to be in a relationship. He seems pretty out of touch with how he feels about things,” I said, thinking out loud.
With the way he was last night, extreme reactions to hold me close or run away from me, I wondered if he was confused or conflicted.
“Mmm,” Mom hummed knowingly. “Did he tell you much about his mother?”
Her words made my eyes dart up to hers. “No. He never talked about her.”
“She died not long after we moved here, so you never met her. Hers was the first funeral your father performed here. Everyone had beautiful things to say about her, but no one called her loving or compassionate. She was a good wife and mother, a good cook, and excellent housekeeper, but no one shed a tear at her funeral. Not even the boys. And the next day, those boys put one foot in front of the other as if nothing had happened.”
My heart broke for Paul, not only losing his mother so early but also never really knowing her in the first place.
“That’s awful,” I whispered, trying not to sound as close to crying as I felt.
“I tell you this to explain something about Paul I’ve always seen but not many do.
He’s a responsible man, a decent human, and would give you the clothes off his back to help, but he has a lot to learn when it comes to having an iota of emotional intelligence.
You’re old enough now to know what that means, so maybe you can teach him,” she said.
The idea that Paul needed me to teach him anything didn’t sit well with me. He was an adult and capable of handling his own feelings. My only purpose here was to focus on her.
“Just remember that I don’t need a man in my life to be happy. I love my apartment and my job is what I’ve always wanted. I have a whole life in Chicago.”
Mom grumbled. “You have a partial life in Chicago.”
Sure, being a wife was something I’d wanted for a long time, but Paul and I were just beginning something.
I wasn’t even sure what at this point. Friends who kissed?
There was no way I would give up the life I’d built now for something that was so tenuous.
It made me wonder where Mom was going with all this stuff about Paul.
“What’s all this about?” I asked.
Her eyes flashed with anger as she struggled to face me.
“Because you’re missing out. You have the chance for true love, but you’re throwing it away over some stubborn notion you have that he doesn’t care about you.
I may not see grandbabies before I die, but seeing you happy?
Truly happy and in love with the man who adores you? That’s what I want.”
What she described I wanted more than anything, but it wasn’t likely to happen. Paul and I had chemistry and history, but that wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between here and Chicago.
“Mom, I am happy,” I insisted, feeling a lump in my throat as the words turned to ash.
Could I honestly say that life had turned out the way I’d always planned? No, but the life I was leading was good enough, wasn’t it? Wasn’t I happy enough?
“No, you’re not,” she said, pulling up her blanket with a huff.
“Your uncle says you’re doing work for someone else, not putting your art up in galleries.
Why aren’t your photographs in the art world, Maggie?
You’re not the next up-and-coming photographer.
You’re not even pursuing your art anymore from what your aunt told me.
Wasn’t that the reason you went to Chicago in the first place? ”
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “But I like my job.”
“It’s not your dream, though. Don’t you see? I don’t want you to turn your back on everything you could have in your life because of a misconception.”
My chest was heaving at the truth she’d already dumped on me. There was more?
Pressing my hand to my chest, I whispered, “What misconception?”
Mom’s eyes softened, now full of compassion as she reached for my hand. Instantly, I gave it to her.
“For some crazy reason, you feel like you don’t deserve true happiness.
But, Maggie, dear, you do. You’ve been running from this town your whole life, thinking everything you wanted was out there in the world when, all the time, everything you needed was right here.
Open your eyes. Live in the moment. And don’t give up on what you and Paul could be. ”
The way my heart beat erratically in my chest kept me from speaking.
Her eyes drifted closed, probably from expending so much energy on me, so I sat there holding her hand as I thought about what she said.
I thought I’d been moving toward what I wanted by going to Chicago.
Being in the city was all I’d ever wanted, but was she right?
Did I sabotage myself by leaving what my heart needed so I’d never be truly happy?