Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Taylor and her mother spent an uneasy weekend together. It was as if two enemies had come together under the same roof and were determined to navigate this forced interaction with cool civility.
Thankfully, her mother still had several friends in GraceTown. On Monday, she made plans to meet two of them for brunch. That guaranteed she’d be gone for at least a couple of hours.
The second Lynda walked out the door that morning, Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. No more tiptoeing around subjects, no more painful politeness.
Shortly after she arrived, her mother mentioned that she planned to stay in GraceTown through Thanksgiving before heading back to California on Friday.
Taylor didn’t know what to say other than that she was welcome to stay through the holiday. It was what her father would have wanted. Still, it was more difficult than she imagined seeing her mother in the house where they’d once lived as a family .
After her mother left, Taylor went into the Elite office. She found Jameson sitting at Glenna’s desk.
“Where’s Glenna?”
“She’s having a bunch of people over for Thanksgiving and was stressing over everything she needs to get done. I told her I’d hold down the fort. She’s out running errands now.” Pushing back from the desk, he studied her. “I hear your mother is in town.”
“News travels fast.”
“Mel Blount stopped by. He said she arrived over the weekend.”
“She’s been here since Friday.” Taylor dropped down into the visitor’s chair.
“How long is she staying?”
“The plan is through Thanksgiving.”
“That’ll be nice. Or not,” he added, appearing to notice her expression. “I hoped maybe you two had settled your differences.”
“They're not the kind that can be settled over a weekend.”
Jameson opened his mouth, but then closed it without speaking.
Taylor kept her tone light. “Since you always seem to be a man in the know, I’ve some news that I’m certain you haven’t heard.”
Interest flared in his brown depths. “What is it?”
“I got offered my old job back. With a raise.”
Surprise skittered across his face, then his gaze turned watchful. “You’re right, I hadn’t heard. Was the offer a surprise?”
“Total surprise.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet.” She swiveled in the chair. “I told them they’d have my answer by the first.”
Taylor found herself holding her breath.
After clearing his throat, Jameson broke the silence. “Well, if you decide to accept and return to Chicago, my offer to buy your share of the business still stands.”
“Are you kidding me?” Taylor stared in disbelief. “I tell you I might be leaving GraceTown, and that’s all you can say?”
His gaze searched her face. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Taylor.” He spoke slowly, his expression giving nothing away. “I’m trying to be supportive.”
“I don’t want you to be supportive. I want you to be honest.”
“I like having you here. I enjoy working with you and spending time together. But if you want to go back to your life in Chicago, then…” He blew out a breath. “I’ve known you for six weeks. I’m not going to stop you. You have a place here. We can keep going with this, but whether you stay or go is your decision to make, not mine.”
Taylor held it together in the office, not wanting Jameson to see just how much his response had upset her.
As she drove home, her mood dipped to dark with a side of despair. In her heart of hearts, she could admit that she’d wanted him to say, Don’t take the job. Stay here with me.
Which, she had to admit, was ridiculous. He was right. They’d known each other less than two months. This was her decision to make.
With so much to think about and so many thoughts and emotions battering her heart, Taylor hoped, hoped, hoped her mother wouldn’t be home when she got there.
Taylor felt a sudden urge to cry in frustration when her mother rose from the sofa the second that she stepped inside.
Lynda scanned her daughter’s face. “What’s wrong?“
“Everything is fine.” Taylor clipped the words.
“You don’t look like everything is fine.”
Holding on to her rising irritation with both hands, Taylor ground out through gritted teeth, “I have a lot on my mind right now.”
“Would talking about it help?”
Taylor hung up her coat and turned. It was her mother’s hopeful smile that pushed Taylor over the edge. “Why would you ever think that I’d want to talk to you about anything important?”
Her mother’s face blanched. Her hands, with their perfectly manicured nails, clenched into fists at her sides. When she spoke, her voice, though calm, held a steely edge. “I feel bad for the pain I caused you in the past, but that doesn’t mean you can talk to me however you like.”
Taylor blew out a breath. The anger she’d kept carefully contained for so long reached a flash point. “You left me. You left Dad. Your stupid career was more important than either of us.”
Though her mother flinched, she didn’t crumble. “You talk about me putting my career first. What about you, Taylor? Didn’t you put your career ahead of your father? How often did you come to see him?”
Taylor frowned. “I lived in Chicago and?—”
“Don’t give me that. You were a two-hour plane ride away. Yet, if he wanted to see you, he had to drop everything he was doing to go to you. You’ve spent time in his office, seen how things work there. Do you think it was easy for him to take time off?”
For a second, Taylor had no response. Then she pushed back. “Dad told me he was okay with coming to Chicago.”
“Then you should feel lucky, because I couldn’t get him on a plane when we were married. Not to see me whenever I had an extended business trip or even for a weekend getaway.” A look of pain washed over Lynda’s face. “Even though we had the money, he didn’t want to spend it.”
“Your job—” Taylor began.
“We’ve talked enough about my job the last few days. Let’s talk for a minute about your dad’s job.” Lynda’s eyes bore into hers. “A police officer has weird shifts, terrible hours and a lot of stress. Stress, I might add, that is felt not only by the officer but by the family.”
When Taylor opened her mouth to respond, Lynda steamrolled ahead.
“I was building a career, one that was important to me. But in our household, it was only his career that mattered. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I needed more than simply being a wife and a mom?” Lynda gave a humorless chuckle. “Of course you didn’t. No one does. Even though we’d never expect a man to be fulfilled simply by being a husband and a dad.”
Oddly, the fact that what her mother was saying made sense only made Taylor double down. “None of that changes the fact that you left us. Walked away from a husband who loved you. Didn’t your wedding vows mean anything to you?”
Anger flashed in her mother’s eyes. “Who are you to lecture me on making a marriage work?”
If she thought her mother would apologize again for leaving, Taylor was immediately disabused of that notion. Lynda was like a runaway locomotive, gaining steam as she barreled down the track.
“You’ve never been married, never even been in love. You most definitely have never been a mother trying to deal with an angry teen.” Lynda’s eyes might be hot, but her voice remained calm. “I made the best choices I could, given the circumstances.”
“You didn’t make?—”
“Are you saying I should have put aside my own happiness to keep my husband and child happy?” Her mother’s chin lifted. “Tell me, Taylor, why is this what we expect of wives and mothers but not of husbands and fathers? Did you ever yell at your father and insist he should give up his career?”
“You left me without a backward glance.”
“You know that isn’t true.” Steady brown eyes met defiant brown eyes. “You were fifteen, Taylor. You refused to go with me. What was I supposed to do? Force you?”
“I heard you and Dad went to marriage counseling.”
Her mother blinked. “You’re giving me whiplash.”
“Is it true?”
“Yes. Your father and I saw a counselor for several months.”
“Why didn’t it work? Why couldn’t you make it work?” Taylor heard the accusation in her voice but was powerless to stop it. “You’re a good person. He is—was—a great guy.”
Lynda remained silent for several heartbeats.
“Was it the money thing? He didn’t make enough for you?”
The accusation bounced off her mother like rain on a sturdy umbrella. “It wasn’t about money. Your dad and I were very different people. I liked the theater. He liked fishing. I enjoyed dressing up and going out to dinner. He was content with eating every meal at home.”
“He took me out,” Taylor reminded her. “When you traveled, Dad and I always went out one night.”
“Yes. I know. He was willing to bend for you, and I’m glad that he was. But he was not willing to bend for me.”
“Is that why you traveled all the time, to get away from us?”
“No, not initially, and never to get away from you. I always wanted to spend time with you.”
“It didn’t feel that way.”
“I know it didn’t. Your dad always said you and I are very much alike. I believe that’s true.”
“You were gone all the time.”
“That wasn’t the plan. It just crept up on me.”
“How can something like that creep up on you?”
“Your father mentioned that you worked long hours at your job in Chicago.”
“We’re talking about your job, not mine. Your mistakes, not mine.”
Lynda recoiled as if Taylor had struck her, but she righted herself just as quickly. “When you started your position in Chicago, I’m betting you didn’t begin by working eighty hours a week.”
“No,” Taylor admitted. “Not in the beginning.”
“That’s how it was with me. Initially, it was one day a month of travel. Then it was two or three days a month.” Lynda’s gaze turned distant. “More money, lots of praise and increased challenges. I got caught up in it. I don’t know when I began to focus more on the job than on home. Maybe it was when the tension increased between me and your father, or I got caught up in meeting increasingly demanding goals and quotas. When I finally came up for air, it was too late to save my marriage.”
“What about me?” Taylor asked. “You left me.”
“I wanted you to come with me, but you were adamant about staying with your dad. I will forever regret not insisting you come and visit me.” Sadness filled her mother’s eyes. “I knew you were angry and blamed me for the divorce. But by not insisting you come and stay with me, I allowed us to drift apart. If I could go back in time, I would change that. I would fight for your love because, believe me when I say there is nothing in the world more important to me than you.”
Taylor lifted her chin in a stubborn tilt. “If I was so important to you, you wouldn’t have left.”
“So we’re back to this. I should have given up my career, set aside my own happiness, and stayed home with you and your dad. Is that what you’re saying?”
Glancing away, Taylor said nothing.
“Look, it’s okay if that’s what you wanted. I understand that most kids would, but I hope that one day you can understand that I couldn’t do that.” Lynda’s voice steadied as she continued. “Your dad wasn’t willing to bend either. He was happy with the status quo. He liked the house the way it was and wasn’t willing to upgrade or sell. He liked working for GraceTown PD and wouldn’t consider relocating. Not to dog on him or anything, but issues in a marriage are rarely just one partner’s fault. Things are never black and white. He?—”
“Don’t you talk badly about my dad.” Taylor’s voice rose until she was nearly shouting. “He was a good man. Ask anyone. I won’t stand here and listen to you disrespect him.”
The blood in Taylor’s veins had turned to molten lava, and she wasn’t quite sure how much longer she could hold it together. She couldn’t recall ever feeling this angry, this out of control.
She had always prided herself on her calm disposition and ability to stay cool no matter the circumstances. But now, Taylor found herself wanting to scream, to throw something, to lash out.
Before her mother could respond, Taylor stomped to the door and grabbed her coat.
Then she did what she’d never done, not even as a teenager—she stormed out and slammed the door behind her.
“I’m sorry for just stopping over. I know you’re busy.” Taylor sat at the counter of Polly’s kitchen and watched her friend work magic on the top of a cherry pie. “What exactly are you doing?”
“The boys aren’t big on pumpkin or pecan pie. I told them I’d make a cherry one this year. I decided to go with turkey shapes on the pie crust, you know, to make it more festive. Right now, I’m going for a 3-D effect by layering smaller shapes on top of larger ones.”
“I’m impressed.” Taylor watched Polly slide the pie into the oven, set the timer and straighten.
“Now…” Polly commandeered the stool next to Taylor. “Before Zach gets back with the kids and chaos descends, tell me what's going on with you.”
“I’m sorry to just barge in. I know you’re busy with the kids and,” Taylor gestured toward the oven, “pies.”
“You’re always welcome. This is actually a good time. Zach took the week off and has the kids right now. Tell me what’s wrong.”
The look of concern in Polly’s eyes had tears pushing against Taylor’s lids. She rapidly blinked. “My mom and I got into a huge fight.”
Although she didn’t give Polly a blow-by-blow, she hit the highlights. “I’m so angry with her right now.”
“She brings up some good points,” Polly said in a matter-of-fact tone, her gaze watchful.
“Are you siding with her?” Taylor’s voice rose and cracked.
“There are no sides here.” Reaching over, Polly squeezed her hand. “All I’m saying is that relationships are hard. Marriages are hard. Even when they look like they aren’t, you never really know.”
Taylor looked at her friend. Really, truly looked at her. There was a weariness in her eyes that seemed to be about more than just Thanksgiving prep. “You and Zach… Are you saying…”
“Zach and I are great. Don’t worry. We both love each other. But that doesn’t mean every day is easy. It doesn’t mean we don’t have disagreements. Sure, we line up about the big things most of the time, but we have our moments, same as anyone.”
“Still, I can’t see you abandoning your kids just because Zach didn’t want to take you to the theater.”
“Taylor, your mom didn’t abandon you. Come on, I know you remember how insistent you were that you’d never go visit her, no matter how much she asked.”
“I—”
Polly cut Taylor off before she could finish. “Never mind. That isn’t my point. My point is that you’re right. I would never walk away from my kids, because being a mom is the main thing in this world I’ve always wanted. I feel fulfilled packing lunches and driving carpools and cleaning barf off the sofa.”
Taylor winced. “Gross.”
“So gross. You have no idea. And yet, still, I love it. Nothing has ever made me feel as good about myself as being a mom. Zach recognizes that, and more importantly, he supports me in that. I know it hurts to hear, but for Lynda, that just wasn’t the case. And if you’re being really honest, do you blame her? I mean, you’re not exactly a kid person yourself.”
Taylor’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean? I love your kids. You know that.”
Polly nodded. “I do. But I also see how you react to the noise and the clutter and how you space out when I talk about their high jinks for too long. And it’s okay. I get it. To be honest, it’s not that different from how I glaze over when you start talking about tax law.”
Taylor wanted to feign offense, but her pout turned into a laugh too easily.
Polly went on, “I’m not saying you suddenly have to be best friends with your mom. Just try to see her point of view. Because she is your mom. And if Bob’s premature death has taught us anything, it’s that we don’t always have the time we think we do. If you refuse to let her be a part of your life now, you can’t know if you’ll get another chance.”
When Taylor returned home from Polly’s house, she found her mother in the upstairs bedroom, packing.
Taylor stood in the doorway. Instead of the joy that even a day or two ago she’d been convinced she’d feel when her mother finally left for California, all Taylor felt was a heavy ache in the area of her heart.
“Mom.”
Intent on placing a sweater into her suitcase, Lynda jumped at the sound of Taylor’s voice. When she turned, Taylor saw the tear streaks that her mother had yet to hide.
“I won’t be long. This was a bad idea. I had these visions in my head of spending Thanksgiving together, but showing up on your doorstep, well, I don’t know what I was thinking.” Lynda offered a shaky smile. “I’m sorry.”
Taylor stepped into the room. “Don’t go.”
Surprise flashed across Lynda’s face.
“You were right when you said I’ve never been married and that I’ve never had to try to make a marriage work.” Taylor took in a breath and let it out slowly. “I judged you on something I have no idea about.”
“I hope you’ll never have to understand the pain of a failed marriage.” Lynda’s expression turned bleak. “Goodness knows there are things I would change. I didn’t do everything I could?—”
“I didn’t either,” Taylor acknowledged. “I haven’t been looking at this right for a long time.”
“Relationships, whether between parent and child or two adults, can be difficult.” Lynda spoke tentatively. “I get the feeling that maybe there is something between you and Jameson Fox.”
“I like him.” A tiny smile Taylor couldn’t suppress tugged at the corner of hers lips. “Even when he found out that Dad had left his share of the business to me, he didn’t hold that against me. Although he was initially a little bent out of shape when I told him I wouldn’t sell Dad’s share to him.”
Confusion blanketed her mother’s brow. “Is there some reason you want to hold on to that part of the business?”
Without realizing quite how it happened, Taylor found herself sitting next to her mother on the bed.
“This is going to sound strange, but I’ve been finding notes from Dad in his coat pocket.”
“He loved writing notes.” Her mother’s eyes grew distant. “When I started traveling, he’d tuck a note into my suitcase. It always made me smile to find one.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It was very sweet.” Her mother’s gaze grew thoughtful. “I can’t remember why or when exactly he stopped doing that. ”
Sensing the sadness in her mother, Taylor gave her arm a squeeze.
“So you found a bunch of old notes in the coat pocket.” Curiosity replaced the clouds in Lynda’s eyes. “That’s interesting.”
“They weren’t old, and they arrived separately.” Taylor went through each note with her mother and watched her mother’s eyes widen. “I haven’t received any more since the one telling me to trust my intuition.” Taylor gave a little laugh. “I have all these decisions to make, and all I get is to trust my intuition.”
When Lynda opened her mouth but then hesitated, Taylor knew exactly what was happening in her mother’s head. She had advice to offer but wasn’t sure it would be welcomed.
Taylor offered her mother an encouraging smile. “I’d love to hear your thoughts.”
“Don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
“Pardon?”
“Don’t make the same mistakes I did,” Lynda repeated.
“You mean leaving my family?”
“No, I mean not fighting for what you want. I have loved my career, but I should have fought harder to get your father to be more open to it. I knew he loved his life, and I thought not asking him to change was a kinder act, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just easier. And I should have fought harder to stay in your life, no matter how hard you pushed me out.”
Taylor nodded and waited, sensing her mother had more to say.
“If you loved your job and life in Chicago, don’t be afraid to return to it. Don’t be afraid to ask them to meet you on your terms, not theirs. If they say no, so be it, but at least you tried. And if you want something different, don’t be afraid to go find it. Whatever you do, just be sure you’re doing it because it’s what you want, not anyone else. Not me, not Jameson, not even your father. Trust your instincts. ”
Taylor’s instincts were telling her to stay in GraceTown, to not take the job and to make amends with her mother. In her heart of hearts, she knew that was what she wanted.
She recalled the message on the Thanksgiving flag in the town square: Better Together.
“I’d like you to stay. I’d like us to celebrate Thanksgiving together.”
Tears filled her mother’s eyes. “I’d like that, too.”
“We could enjoy an incredible meal, eat some amazing pieces of pie…” Taylor sighed, imagining the heartwarming scene.
Lynda looked at her askance. “Do you cook and bake?”
Taylor laughed. “I never really got the hang of cooking. I mean, I can do the basics, but that’s about it. I never had the time or interest to develop those skills. And to be honest, I’ve never made a pie in my life.”
“Same.”
“We’re two intelligent women. We can come up with a solution to this very minor problem.” Taylor tapped a finger against her lips. “The Black Apron has a special Thanksgiving Day menu. We could go there.”
“Sounds wonderful.”
“Trust me, it’ll be much better than if I try to cook.”
“We could eat hot dogs, for all I care. All I want is to spend Thanksgiving with you. Holidays are better together, and we’ve missed so many.”
“I feel the same.”
Hope flashed in her mother’s eyes. “I’d love for you to come to California for Christmas, meet Michael, see where I live and?—”
Trust your instincts , the last note had said.
Well, Taylor went with instinct. Flinging her arms around her mother, she squeezed tight. “I’d like that very much.”