“A wise person, your grandson, called me today to tell me I was right about everything. Once I had him repeat those beautiful words so I could record them for all posterity, I realized I’d come awfully close to texting you the very same thing not twenty-four hours before. If you saw those three dots, that was me on the verge of an apology I was too chicken to make.
“Today is going to be a celebration of all mothers, but mostly my mother, Heidi Stutz Vance Smith Rodriguez Malone Quarles. And I know she’s watching—or will be watching—because I recently learned that she watches all my videos. I don’t know why that surprised me so much, considering she’s been behind me every step of the way, even when I thought she wasn’t.
“You see, if I’d been paying more attention to my mother, I would’ve learned to value myself more. For the first time in my life I understand why you kept every one of those names: you were searching for love, and you weren’t afraid to keep trying. You have been so brave to keep trying again and again until you found someone worthy of you. You somehow knew the problem wasn’t with you but rather what the world told you to do and who the world told you to be.
“Real estate agent, mother, defender of justice, wilyJeopardycompetitor, and all-around badass, that’s you. And next time, with the exception of this video, I promise you will be the first person I call instead of the last.”
I poured a flute of champagne and held it up toward my viewers. “Take the time today, folks, to award your mom with the Badass Mom Badge. Give her a hug if you’re able. Here’s to you, Heidi!”
I took a sip of my champagne and put it down.
“And should any of my real-world friends be listening, I’d love to see you again. You know the day, the time, and the place. I really hope I’ll see you there, but I completely understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore.”
Chapter 36
I slogged through the editing and the process for putting my videos up, and then I texted my mother to say:I put up a video I’d like you to watch. I promise from here on out you’ll be the first person I call.
I paced. I willed my phone to buzz with a new text. I scooped the litter, washed my hands, scrubbed the sink, and then washed my hands again. I put in a load of laundry. I did anything and everything I could to keep from chasing that dopamine dragon by looking at the comments.
But then I checked my comments.
Well said!
OneBadMother49:Oh, Vivian. Nobody’s perfect.
One bad mother.
But what kind of mother am I? A bad one, I guess.
1949: the year my mother was born.
Suddenly, those comments that had seemed so ominous or critical sounded ... maternal.
Vivian, I know who youreallyare. Be careful.
Stop this insanity, Vivian, or youwillregret it.
Shock turned to shame. Mom thought she was a bad mother?
If so, I had made her feel that way.
My doorbell rang.
So help me God, if Mitchell Quackenbush was back or if it was someone who wanted to sell me something, I was going to—
My mother stood outside.
Which made no sense.
Hadn’t she driven back to Florida?
I opened the door, my heart hammering with alternating beats of hope and fear. “Mom, you’re here.”
“Of course I’m here.” She stepped inside, deftly and gently putting up a foot to prevent Lucky’s escape.
“How?”
“I drove back after Carl’s funeral and was staying with Rachel. She let me put my car in her garage.”
