“I couldn’t sleep.” Her mother’s voice was gruff. “You’re coming in late.”
Livvy raised an eyebrow. Tani hadn’t said anything before about when Livvy got home. Livvy ran her hand over the edge of the door. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me. You’re an adult.”
She wanted to have to apologize to her mother.Perhaps you shouldn’t come home for a few weeks and expect your relationship with your mother to be magically fixed.
Humans were complicated. Parents especially so. She glanced around the dark room. “How about tomorrow we go shopping for something to brighten this room up?”
Tani looked away from the T.V. She appeared especially small in the chair, her walker by her side. “You don’t like the room?”
“I mean, it’s not—” Livvy cut herself off, not eager to have any more emotional conversations tonight.
If her mother hadn’t opened up to her about mental health before, she definitely wasn’t going to do it now.
“Not what?” Tani asked.
“It’s not what we used to have.”
“What do you mean?”
“At our old house.”
“Of course it’s not.” Tani stared at Livvy like she was a simpleton. “Because it’s not the same house.”
“I’m not talking about just the house. You decorated so nicely back then.”
“Your father cared about all of that. Not me.”
She raised an eyebrow, not only at the words, but also at her mother even bringing up her late father. “Dad made you do all of that?”
“He didn’t make me. I wanted him to be happy,” Tani said stiffly. “I enjoyed him enjoying it.”
Livvy nodded, mildly disturbed. How much of her parental dynamics had she missed when she was young? “Oh. Well. I’ll let you sleep.”
Livvy turned to leave, but then she noted the sketchpad on her mother’s nightstand. She was too far away to see what she’d drawn in it, but the pad was open, suggesting use. “Have you used the charcoal I got you?”
Her mother glanced at her hands. “I did.”
“What other stuff do you like to use?” She made her tone brisk and matter-of-fact.
Her mother looked like she wasn’t going to respond, but then she shrugged. “Watercolors.”
“I’ll get you some while I’m out tomorrow.”
Tani pursed her lips. “That may be nice.” She picked up the remote.
Livvy started to back out, but Tani continued speaking. “I heard you with Maile.”
Livvy stopped, her blood freezing, and turned back to her mother.
Tani nodded. “I know why you think grieving a relationship is a weakness. Because you think I was weak, when your father died.”
Livvy shook her head, numb.
“Yes. I’m not dumb. You, Paul, Jackson. You resent me for how I was then, and I cannot blame you. I was unresponsive to your needs for a long time, and then you were gone, and...” Tani’s lips tightened. “And that was that.”
Livvy found her voice. “I can’t speak for Jackson and Paul. But if anyone in the world can understand a fraction of how you felt then, it’s me. Especially in hindsight.” Whether or not her mother dealt with depression too, Livvy would never say Tani was weak.
