“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. She’d told me the same at the funeral home, but I hadn’t known how to respond. Seeing the way she looked at Raisin reminded me that she loved Mom, and she was hurting too.
Ilona’s eyes misted, and she nodded. “Take care,” she said. “Call anytime.”
When I returned my gaze to the patio, Raisin had joined the group, winding neatly around Camilla’s legs.
Alicia smirked. “Looks like you inherited a cat as well.”
The words hit with a slap and panic welled. “I can’t have a cat,” I said. “Robert hates animals.” He thought they were stinky and dirty. He said they’d make the house smell, and shed hair on everything. Additionally, pets were expensive and inconvenient, making it impossible to leave town without paying a sitter.
“I’ll take him,” Camilla said. Her offer interrupted my spiraling thoughts.
“What?” I blinked.
The cat perched on her lap now, purring loudly enough to hear across the table.
“I can take him. My roommates won’t mind.”
“What will Jeff say?” I asked. He didn’t live with her, but he was constantly at her side. “What about the hair?”
“A groomer will get that sorted,” she said, smiling at Raisin. “Jeff will think it’s nice I have something of Grandma’s to keep and love.” She glanced at her watch. “We can tell him when he gets here. He’s picking me up soon. I didn’t think you’d want to stay here long.”
I rubbed heavy hands against my face, pressure growing in my head and chest. “I don’t plan to stay long,” I agreed. “Figuring out what to do with all her stuff is a job for another day.”
Still, I hated to go home, where eggshells lined the floor, and an argument was sure to follow. Robert always managed to make me feel worse when I felt low. I could be pleasant or bland, but anything less than that and he’d lash out in petty, hurtful ways until I cracked. After I came home from the funeral, he would undoubtedly start a fight. Say something unkind about Mom, complain about her overdue property taxes, or the amount of time I’d need to spend here to prepare the home for sale. Sometimes the reasons for his verbal attacks were so opaque I couldn’t make sense enough of the connection to fight back. I just stood in the crosshairs while my bad day got infinitely worse.
“Mom?”
I dropped my hands onto my lap, brows furrowed, heartbroken as I looked to Alicia, then into my sweet daughter’s eyes. “I have to leave your father,” I said.
The moment of clarity was so strong, I couldn’t keep it from her any longer. I’d known for years, had planned my escape over a hundred meals with Alicia and dozens of bottles of wine.
Camilla set Raisin on the ground and rounded the table to where I sat. Then she crouched and wrapped me in her arms. “I know, Mama,” she said. “And I understand.”
Robert didn’t make a sport of ruining her days the way he ruined mine, but he was always a self-centered, moody authoritarian. He’d parented her with idle threats and grounding instead of love, on the rare occasions he’d bothered to parent her at all.
I pulled back to look at her, and part of me died as I read the sadness on her beautiful face. Any remaining piece of me that hoped I’d somehow shielded her from her dad’s behavior hung its head in shame.
“I get it,” she confirmed. “He’s not good to you, and you deserve to be cherished.” Her voice cracked as she pulled me back to her and held on so long I thought I might cry as well.
Camilla knew my marriage was bad, just as I’d known my parents’ marriage was bad, and it gutted me that I’d continued the cycle.
Did she resent me for staying? Had she prayed to the moon and stars that I’d stand up and walk away years ago?
I couldn’t ask. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
“Cami,” I said, suddenly frantic and desperate. “I don’t ever want this for you.”
She kissed my cheek, then returned to her seat. “Don’t worry. I’m okay,” she assured. “You will be too.”
I nearly laughed at the thought. “I mean it. There’s so much more to life than marriage.”
Alicia uncrossed her legs and scooted forward to squeeze my hand on the tabletop. “We don’t have to talk about this now. It’s been a rough day.”
I batted at my stinging eyes but took her advice and bit my tongue.
I thought only of how much I didn’t want to be like my mom, and how much I hated that I was.
My life was far easier than hers in every possible way, but finances held me in place as well.Finances, or fear?I wondered. Maybe a little of both.
