She’d been across the cul-de-sac for the past few days? “You were with Rachel this whole time?”
“Yes. I thought you might need me. Well, I was hoping you might need me. But I didn’t want to smother you, and I needed you to understand I meant what I said about not using me as a punching bag.”
My chest constricted. Even after our argument, Mom had stayed nearby?
“Also, your video indicated you had champagne.” The tightness in my chest expanded, then loosened. She had seen the video.
“I am so, so sorry,” I said, running the words together to get them out. “I was so very wrong.”
“Oh, Vivian.” She opened her arms, and I flew into them.
“I get it now. I was so afraid that Mitch would leave me the way Daddy did that I lost myself in trying to keep him happy. Somewhere deep inside, I thought Daddy left because of you, but he was just ... Daddy. I was so stupid to think that I should be the opposite of you. You were only trying to teach me how to take care of myself and—”
She pulled me out to arm’s length and pushed a strand of hair out of my face and behind my ear. “Vivian, it doesn’t matter.”
“And then Dylan called and told me I was right just as I discovered how wrong I really was, and I realized something really important.”
“What’s that?” she asked patiently.
“Right and wrong are pretty darn subjective. We’ve both been doing the best we could, and that’s motherhood.”
“There’s my girl,” she said, pulling me into another one of her patented Chanel No. 5 hugs. “Now you get it.”
“But why couldn’t I have gotten it sooner? Shouldn’t I be old enough to not have to keep learning these lessons?”
“Oh, no. That’s not how life works. When we stop learning, we die.”
I thought about it for a minute. “Mom, I just have one question.”
“What’s that?”
“When can I meet Connie?”
She grinned, and the way her eyes sparkled made her the most beautiful I’d ever seen her. “We’ll see. We’re not in any hurry.”
“I’m not, either,” I said, walking over to the couch to have a seat. I felt a little light on my feet, as though my apology had drained me.
Mom chuckled. “I’ve heard that before.”
“I mean it this time. I’m going to try to do it right, find the perfect person this time.”
“There is no perfect man, and I’m not a perfect woman.”
“Because nobody’s perfect?”
“Why do you say that?” she asked sharply.
“It’s okay, BadMother49,” I said.
“Clever, aren’t you.”
“I don’t know about that. I only figured it out right before you rang the doorbell, and there’s a problem with your handle.”
“Oh?”
“You’re not a bad mother. You’re the best mother.”
She tilted her head to one side, eyebrow up as she stared me down.
