She swiped beneath one eye, steadying herself.
“That was always our tug-of-war. He kept me from drowning in fear. I kept him tethered to reality. Somehow, between the two of us, we stayed balanced.” She shook her head, as if still trying to puzzle it out. “But then, we lost him, and…without him to balance me out… I just worry. I’ve been terrified you'd make mistakes you couldn’t undo. Because I know what happens when mistakes pile up.” She paused, glancing at me briefly before looking away again. “My mom made mistakes. And I lived in that fallout.”
My chest tightened. “What mistakes did Gran make?”
She tensed, just a flicker in her shoulders, like part of her still wanted to protect me from it, even now.
“Trusting the man who fathered me, for one.” Her voice dropped, quieter, rougher.
I could count the number of times my mom had talked about her father on one hand. As far as we knew, he’d never been in the picture. Gran hadn’t talked about him either.
“I was seven when he left. There one day, gone the next. Left my mother with nothing.” She exhaled, her gaze drifting again, like she could still see it.
“The landlord evicted us a week later. I remember packing up my clothes, my toys, and asking Mom where we were moving. She smiled and said we were having an adventure. Camping.”
Her mouth curved briefly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“We were homeless, Luna, and my mom tried to make it sound like a vacation.”
Part of me could totally picture Gran spinning it like that. But hearing about it now, coming from my mom, showed me a glimpse I didn’t know existed.
“Mom’s old station wagon became home for the next year.” Her voice thinned. “Seafoam green. The wood paneling peeling off like strips of old tape. God, those vinyl seats stuck to my legs in the summer, felt like ice in the winter.” She swallowed. “Mom parked us behind grocery stores, side streets, and ran the engine when she could, But we’d still wake up with frost on the inside of the windows.
“When I met your dad”—she managed a wistful smile—“and finally had a shot at stability, I grabbed it with both hands. I was determined that my children would never know that kind of insecurity.”
There was emotion behind those words. Protection. Exhaustion. Love…
“And we didn’t,” I said quietly.
“Thank God.”
We both sat in the quiet, her lost in her memories, me trying to fit this version of my mother into the one I’d always known. I thought I’d understood that she and Gran had struggled, but I hadn’t. Not like this. Not even close.
“The worst part wasn’t being hungry or cold, it was pretending everything was fine.”
Pretending everything was fine.
I stared at her, and suddenly, so much about her clicked into place—how tightly she held things in, how hard she worked to control everything. She wasn’t just protecting me. She’d been protecting herself, too.
“You still do that,” I said softly.
She nodded, grimacing a little. “Old habits are hard to break.”
I sat with it for a moment, sifting through some of my memories, and then I frowned. “Gran told me a million stories.” About old boyfriends. Waitressing jobs she’d held. Even about my mom. But… “She never said anything about that.”
Mom just shrugged. “I’m sure that if she could have, she would’ve erased it completely. Which was fine by me, honestly. You girls didn’t need to know.” She shook her head, her expression softening. “Those summers with you and Ashley—that was her do-over. But… I never stopped being… cautious. That kind of want stays with you, even when you’re not living in it anymore.”
I understood it better now—the fear that shaped her. But if we were ever going to move forward, she’d have to loosen her grip. Allow me to make my own mistakes, and trust that I wouldn’t be defeated by them.
“I’m not Gran,” I said finally. “And I’m not you.”
She nodded. “No. You’re not. And I do know that.”
“I want security, too,” I admitted. “That’s probably why I stayed with Leo for so long. He had that degree… When he pulled out an American Express card on our second date, I thought...wow. Maybe—” I hesitated, not quite ready to lay it all on her. “Maybe part of me thought Leo was the key to having the life you wanted for me. The stability. The safety.”
I let out a breath. “And yeah, that all blew up. But...I was building something too. I still am.” I paused, gathering a little more courage. “I have a plan. I just need time to pull it together.”
I chose to believe there was more curiosity in her expression than caution.
