The tears that slither down my cheeks in ragged trails are no longer sad tears. They’re filled with hope that maybe I finally have my mom back, and in the kind of way where I don’t feel like a burden to her for the first time in a long time. Maybe I don’t have to keep living my life the way I had been all this time. Maybe there is a way out.
The thought reminds me of my conversation with Rhett earlier this summer. His words echo through my mind, urging me to take this vulnerable moment to talk with my mom about all the shame and guilt I carry with me from that dreaded day all those years ago. My counselor seems to think it’d be good for me to clear the air too, but this moment is too good, and I haven’t had the chance to rehearse the conversation with my counselor. My fear shuts down the thought immediately, and instead, we just quietly finish our last bites of ice cream before heading to the car.
The entire ride back to Roots, we blast Taylor Swift, screaming the lyrics at the top of our lungs. When “The Best Day” comes on, I pause the music quickly to ask, “Do you remember when I first showed you this song?”
“Of course I do. It was the first time I’d ever seen my baby’s heart broken. That freaking Natasha Knight! The second she hit puberty, I knew that girl was going to be trouble.” I can’t help but laugh, but Mom turns serious. “I mean it. Seeing your child’s heart broken, however it happens, really sticks with you. Plus, this song is just so wholesome. I love the way she talks about her relationship with her mom, and the fact that my fifteen-year-old showed it to me, telling me it reminded her of our relationship. I’ve never forgotten that moment.”
“I always think of you when I hear the song. It’s still your ringtone.”
She reaches out to pat my leg briefly. “On the days when I missed you and knew you were busy in the trenches of busy season, I’d listen to this song to help make me feel closer to you.”
My heart sinks as I’m once again reminded of just how much I affected my mom by keeping her out of my life. I wasn’t protecting her, despite my intentions. Instead, my actions hurt us both.
“Aww, Mom!”
“It’s okay. You’re an adult. You have your life. I get you for five more weeks, so I’ll take what I can get.” She gives me a bittersweet smile.
When she presses play on the song again, she cheerily picks up her singing. Joining in, I can’t help but think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if this could be my life from now on.
ChapterThirty-Six
Olivia
You could sayI’ve been distracted since my talk with my mom two days ago. My shift at the café today has been unproductive because I’ve been busy creating a checklist on my phone of things I need to accomplish in order for me to quit my job in San Francisco and stay in Roots.
I know Callie can tell something is wrong, but she’s been a great friend and given me lots of space today to process my thoughts. I’m thankful for that because I don’t want to tell anyone I’m thinking about staying here until I know I can make it happen.
The bell over the door jingles cheerily, but the atmosphere in the café immediately feels somber, drawing me from my thoughts and my duty of drying mugs. The second I see her face, it makes sense. I should’ve known it was her.
Lauren Rhodes waltzes across the room, exuding sadness. It emanates off of her like a pungent perfume. Her eyes are glossy and the bags underneath them carry their own frown. She looks like someone who is beaten down and shattered.
I give her the kindest smile I can muster and can’t help the soft pity in my voice as I greet her.
To her credit, she smiles back. It almost seems genuine when she tells me she’s doing well, but what gives her away is the smallest wince, as if smiling is painful.
I set the dry mug on a shelf behind the counter and move toward the register, asking what I can get for her.
“Oh, just a blueberry muffin. I don’t drink coffee.”
“I’m not sure I can trust you if you don’t like coffee.”
“I enjoy the smell, but the taste is a bit too strong for me, if that helps at all.” She laughs shyly.
“How do you function without caffeine?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know life any other way.”
“Whoa, you must be superhuman.”
She blushes as she absentmindedly plays with the zipper on her purse while I punch a few buttons into the register. I give her the total and while she taps her credit card, I swivel toward the kitchen to grab a fresh muffin for her, instead of one of the ones under the counter. She looks like she could use a pick-me-up.
“Are you hiding back here?” I ask Callie as she hands me a plate.
“No, I’m not hiding. You’ve got this one handled, so I figured I’d finish cleaning up. I want to leave right at close today, so I have some time to do my hair before Ladies’ Night.”
“You’re doing your hair? Who are you trying to impress?” I tease.
She whacks me with the rag she’s holding in her hand. “No one! Now get back out there. A paying customer is waiting.”
