I slid a mug of coffee across the table to her. We were sitting in our usual corner at Firehouse Café. She lifted her hands and let them fall. “I understand that it’s different for you than it is for me. I really do. But I hate to see that you’re letting Shelly get to you. You could try to shift your thinking about it. That’s what I’ve done. I’m not even talking about forgiveness. I’m talking about letting go.”
“What’s the difference?” I ignored the stinging burn in my heart whenever I thought about Shelly and my father and the aftermath of their betrayal. The rest of us in their orbit were nothing more than collateral damage, wreckage they left behind.
“Forgiveness is…” My mother took a quick breath, her gaze contemplative. “I guess, a blessing that you forgive them as a person for doing that. I don’t really forgive Shelly. In a way—as you know—her actions in what happened hurt me more than your father’s actions.” She took a swallow of her coffee, rolling her eyes. “But as much as that’s true, I had to let it go, or it would char my soul. At least, that’s how it felt. I hope you can let it go.”
I let out a sharp sigh and took a bite of my bagel, chewing through my frustration. “I just can’t believe she moved back,” I said after a moment.
“Honey, her family’s here,” my mother pointed out gently.
“Yeah, and they suck.”
My mother’s eyes crinkled at the corners, slightly amused. She shrugged. “Shelly is living with the consequences of her choices. I’ve let it go. I honestly have no reaction when I see her. You forget that I had to find a way to be civil. Because you had to visit your father until you turned eighteen, so I had to find a way to make it not awful for me. I wouldn’t say I let it go back then, but I accepted it. I had to. As for your father…” she shrugged. “Same goes for him. In the end, he regretted his choices because they destroyed his relationship with you.”
My father had died a few years ago, young-ish, from a massive, unexpected coronary event. At the time, I remembered thinking it was because his heart was black. And yet, I also knew that I had to carry the weight of the bitterness that marred our relationship after everything went down. Sometimes, it felt like I had scorch marks in my heart. The ground felt barren and burned in places.
“I just can’t get over Shelly’s nerve,” I finally said.
“Yeah, well, here’s the thing. People do what they do. They hurt other people. They make mistakes. They don’t think through their choices when they’re in the midst of them.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I commented, my tone dry as dust.
It still surprised me, but my mom really did seem to have let this whole thing go. Meanwhile, I wanted her to be as angry and bitter as I was. At the same time, she deserved the peace she had found, and I wanted her to have it. I knew it was earned, a bit of hard, sweet peace she’d had to fight for.
“Maybe you should hear her out,” she finally added.
“What?” I sputtered, relieved I’d just finished chewing a bite because, otherwise, I would have choked.
“I did,” my mom replied.
“You did?”
“Yes. Honestly, at first, when they were still together and when they moved to Anchorage, I had to live with the shame and the embarrassment, and so many feelings of being a failure as a woman. Letting go wasn’t something I could do at that time. I won’t lie. I said it to her, and I’ll say it to anyone who asks. Yeah. When your father cheated on her too, and it all blew up, and she realized she wasn’t special, that she’d fallen for some of the oldest bullshit in the book, I felt some satisfaction at that. But now, I don’t even feel that. That was more, I guess, validating at the time. It helped me see that it wasn’t something wrong with me. I didn’t have a specific flaw. It was your father. I finally talked to Shelly.” My brows practically hit my hairline, but my mother shrugged lightly. “Figured I might as well get it over with. When I heard her out, I was able to let go more. I think she’ll always live with a lot of shame for what happened. It hurt all of us, including her.”
All I could do was stare at my mother, my throat tight and tears burning hot in my eyes. The blast radius from the path of my father’s and Shelly’s choices left a debris field that remained.
“Shelly apologized. I do believe she meant it. She takes accountability, but she has to live with the fact that there’s a certain amount of trust I can never extend to her. I absolutely understand you can’t trust her again either.” My mother’s gaze was soft as she held mine. “But maybe you need to just hear her out, so you can find a path toward peace.”
“You know what I hate the most?”
“What?”
“Aside from losing everything I believed about my father, because that sucked,” I said flatly. I took a quick breath. “I just don’t trust. Not in relationships. There’s always a question mark. Because I never, never, believed Dad could do what he did, but he did.”
“I know, sweetheart,” my mom said softly. “But trust is worth it. I promise you. I have other friendships, and I have complete faith in them. Not everybody will hurt you. It’s just not true.”
I blinked away the tears stinging my eyes. My mind spun to that moment the other night when I kissed Kincaid. I felt so safe with him in that moment. That was terrifying for me.
I didn’t feel safe with men. Ever. Letting down my guard wasn’t something I could imagine doing. And yet, somehow, I had. With him. That was so shocking to me.
Just then, the bell chimed on the door at the café. I reflexively glanced over to see the man in question walking in. He was with Leo Massie, another firefighter in town. The mere sight of Kincaid set my pulse off like the buzzer at the start of a race. My cheeks heated, and my belly swooped in a dizzying spin just as his eyes locked with mine.
I tore my eyes away from Kincaid’s, promptly running straight into my mother’s gaze. Her lips twitched at the corners as a teasing glint entered her eyes. “Well, who might that be?”
I cleared my throat. “Nobody,” I squeaked.
My mother’s chuckle was low. “Well, he looks like he knows you, so…”
“Oh, my God,” I hissed under my breath. “Mom!”
