“You, too,” Mom says, glaring at me over Venus’s shoulder.
I give her my sternest look.Be nice,I mouth.Convincing Mom to host tonight wasn’t difficult—not with Fred’s help.But over coffee the other afternoon, she explained, “The last time I saw her, it was over a hospital bed withyouin it, Henry.Then, she left, and you fell apart.I nearly lost youtwice.You want a second chance with her, and I get it—you two have always had a sweet, if not challenging, connection.So, I’ll host the dinner, put on a smile, and make potato salad.But I know her.Youknow her.Chances are, she’ll leave you behind and destruction in her wake.She makes me anxious for you and for Olly.”
I argued, of course.I explained why Venus left in the first place and fought for Mom to let go of the past and be pro-Venus for my sakeandOlly’s.
Now, spotting Mom’s pinched brow and pursed lips as Venus embraces her, I wonder if anything I said mattered.It sweeps me back to high school, and the stories Venus has slowly shared with me—the mistreatment she endured, more than I knew—and anger charges through me as I lump my own mother into that category.
Venus releases her from the awkward hug, but pulling away, Mom’s eyes finally reach Venus’s face.A real smile emerges from behind the forced one as she takes her in, and relief softens my anger.
“That’s my mother’s scarf,” she says, surprised, running her fingers along Venus’s loose braid.“She wore that to our wedding with her sage suit.Remember Fred?”
Fred nods.“Oh, yes.She looked pretty in it.”
“I can’t believe you still have it.”Mom traces the top, where Venus has it tied as a headband.
“I have most of them.I wear them every day.”Venus smiles weakly, looking unsure.“I, um, lost the pink plaid one in Borneo, though.I used the teal polka-dotted one to tie off a gaping arm wound I received in a beech forest in the Carpathian Mountains.The blood stains rendered it unsalvageable.”
Venus’s expression contorts in apology.
Mom gapes into a breathy laugh.“Oh, Venus.That’s okay.It’s nice that you could use them, even for wound care.”
Venus lifts her shirt sleeve and twists her tattooed arm to show Mom the raised scar.“Ten stitches.”
“Adventure comes with risks,” Mom sighs, her brow pinching again.
“Damn, Carpathian Mountains?Borneo?”Fred shakes his head.“Isn’t that something?”
“I go where the plants are,” Venus says with a light shrug and a smirk.“Everywhere.”
Mom takes her hand, ogling her rings.“Mom’s mood ring, too?”
“I believe it’s onyx.It’s never changed color, but I love it.”
“I can’t believe you still have it,” Mom says.
“I’ve learned to take home with me… The scarves, the ring, my notes to Henry in my field journal—they’re home to me,” Venus explains, and I think my heart might burst over her sweetness and honesty.
“Well, that’s very nice,” Mom says, appearing moved despite herself.
Venus takes the basket from my hand and offers it to Mom.“Are roses still your favorite?I brought the best ones.”
“They’re… yes, my favorite,” Mom says.
“And wine,” Venus adds.
“Good thinking,” Fred chuckles when Mom says nothing.“I’ll get this baby open.Come, sit down, and tell us about your adventures.”
When Venus glances over her shoulder at me, I put my hand fully over my heart.
The evening passes with good food and light conversation, fluctuating between the grand opening of the museum next weekend and Venus’s travels.As dinner winds down, darkness takes over, and Olly asks to return to camp.I tell him to go inside for the bathroom and to clean up.
“Well, it’s been a great evening,” Fred says.“I’m proud of you two for mending your fences and reconnecting after all this time.It’s a joy to see you together again.”
“It’s only temporary.Henry says you’re moving to New Zealand?”Mom says.
“Mom, I said she hadan offerin New Zealand.She hasn’t decided yet.So relax.”
“I’m relaxed, Henry,” she says, her high-pitched voice refuting her claim.
