Rebecca nods, her lips in a flat line. “So, you are married because…”
For the first time since she started this descent Stella squirms. “Because I didn’t want to disappoint you andDaddy. I didn’t want you to hear bad news upon bad news and feel sick over me. Moving back in with you and Dad wasn’t right, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“So, you married the first man willing?” Rebecca’s eyes flick to me. “Oh, no offense, Roman,” she says, her lips twitching with some semblance of a smile. “You know I adore you like a son. Scott and I can’t wait to see you!” She waves three fingers my way.
I give a small half wave and wait to hear Stella’s answer.
“It was possibly not my sanest decision.” She swallows. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Mom. The last thing I wanted to do was cause you more pain. I watched you hurt so much when Brice died. I never wanted to be the source of your pain.”
“Oh, Stella,” Rebecca says. “We just want you well. Well and happy. I’m sorry for your struggles.” Rebecca blinks—I think to hold back tears. “I know I’ve been overzealous since we lost your brother. But you are never the source of my pain, dearest. You’re quite the opposite.”
“I just want you to have peace,” Stella tells her. “You’ve been worried about me since the day Brice died. Worried and sick over all my choices and?—”
“Oh, my girl.” Rebecca sniffs. “That isn’t your fault. That’s something I’m working through. I never realized you put so much on yourself.”
“I just—” Stella mimics her mother with a sniff of her own. “I hated being the reason you felt anxious or heartache.”
“Then, let’s stop crying. Yes?” Rebecca whimpers, swatting one tear from her cheek. “You’ll be more open, and I’ll be less helpful? Please?”
Stella laughs through her tears. “Deal. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, dearest. And I just want to be in your life. Good and bad.”
“I’ll call tomorrow. We have a wedding in the morning and then?—”
“On Christmas Eve?” Rebecca asks.
“Yes, friends of ours. But then we’ll talk.”
“Yes,” Rebecca says. “All about Roman and this marriage.”
“A little about Roman and maybe about the marriage,” Stella says, wasting no time to set boundaries with her mother.
“And maybe we can see you in January. If you’re able to come for a visit.”
“I’d like that,” Stella says.
I feel like we’ve run a marathon, when I’ve merely stood back to watch this emotional ride. “What was that?” I say, the minute she’s hung up the phone.
“I decided the lies were more painful than the truth.”
Sittingon the seat of Stella’s pottery wheel I run a hand over my head, holding my phone out and on speaker.
“So,” I say to none other than Lucca Cruz. “What do you think?”
“She told her mother everything?” Lucca says, his tone matching the shock I felt when it happened.
“Everything.”
“I’m sorry, bro,” he says. “It sounds like she’s taking the job in Cali, like she’s saying goodbye.”
“But she likes me. She said as much.”
“You could try long distance,” he says. “I had a girl backin Brazil and one in Cali. It was too far though. They couldn’t handle it. I get it. I’m easily missed.”
“Lucca, could you shut up. I don’t understand what any of this means. I can’t force her to tell me. She’s got a job offer and an unhealthy attachment to a family of skunks and?—”
“Did you say skunks? Because if you said skunks, maybe you need to rethink this relationship.”
