Ever since she found her feet in MilGen, Mom’s been extra cautious in all things involving me. She’s afraid of the risks her position as Vice President imposes. She worries I’ve got a target painted on my back because I’m her daughter, and she thinks that if she lets me out of her sight, someone will snatch me away to use as leverage against her.
But I’m turning twenty-four in a few months, and reaching the point where I’d like to spread my wings and learn to fly on my own. Mom’s having none of it.And in her stubbornness to keep me safe, she refuses to acknowledge that everything she does affects me too.
“I think you’re going to like him. He’s a lovely man.” She’s mumbling more to herself than actually trying to have a conversation. “And he’s got a son a few years older than you. Isn’t that delightful?”
Why would it be?
She answers as if she can hear what I’m thinking. “You’ll have the big brother you’ve always wanted.”
“Great.” I shake my head at the sarcastic tone that I couldn’t hide and trudge through the living room to the sofa. Mom’s nervousness makes sense now. We’re not just going to a dinner that should’ve been done and dusted in an hour; two if it stretched longer. We’re getting all the new “family” out of the way at once.
She hums a long, deep sigh. “I know you don’t approve of this, Lilith.”
Hearing her say it hurts more than it probably should. I look away from her to hide the guilty look that quickly spreads over my face.
“Just give them a chance.” She joins me on the couch, and places a gentle hand on my knee. “If you do, I’m sure by the end of the night you’ll see that this is what’s best for us.”
“For us or for you?” I shouldn’t have said it, but I’ve waited too long to talk about it. It isn’t the time to put unnecessary stress on her shoulders, but there wasn’t agood time before, and I don’t see one coming up in the future.
Tonight’s supposed to make this thing official, once and for all.
“Us,” she says, stiffly. “I wouldn’t go through with this if I didn’t think that was true.”
I bite down on my inner cheek until a painful sting eases my temper.
In my peripheral vision, I see Mom smiling. It’s not forced, but I can tell she’s straining to wear it. It’s the sort of smile you give someone at a funeral. You’re sad they’re sad, but you’re smiling to give the other person strength.
I got a lot of those smiles after Dad died. Family friends, work colleagues and some people I’d never met came over and held my hand, saying things were going to get better.
Too young to know any better, I believed them. Well, shit, look how all those hopeful promises ended up.
“But we don’t need anything,” I say, when I’m sure my voice won’t come out shaky. “Dad saw to that.”
Her head sinks and I hear a soft but distinct sniffle.
Yeah, this hurts way more.
“I loved your father with all my heart. I’ve held onto him and cherished his memory for as long as I could.” She wipes away a tear that hasn’t fallen yet, with the same finger she used to check for dust. “But I’m not getting any younger. And I’m still a woman with wants and needs…”
She leaves it there.
I’m glad she does.
“He’s a lovely man,” she repeats. “A good man, and I know he’ll take care of you if anything happens to me.”
“I’m old enough to take care of myself.” I wrap an arm around her in a half-hug and pull her tightly against my side.
I hate seeing her this way. Fragile and sad. She’s so self-assured and certain that things are going to go exactly as she’s planned them that this sudden lack of confidence has my heart shattering into a thousand tiny pieces in my chest.
Mom rests her head on my shoulder, and squeezes my knee in a quiet promise that she’s doing alright and that everything’s going to be okay.
“Let me go freshen up.” She pats my leg and stands up. “The driver will be here any minute.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I say, swallowing my pride.
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, Lilith.” She stops in the archway that leads out of the living room and turns to me. Her lips part to say something, but they fall closed at the same speed.
She leaves with a smile instead.
