Mother looked at her, with a set to her jaw and a fierce devotion in her eyes that Elsa didn’t recall ever seeing before. “The lot behind us can jump ship for all I care. And how. Isn’t that what you young folks say?”
Elsa laughed despite the scene she was causing, or perhaps because of it. Because for the first time in memory, Mother was causing her own. She was not embarrassed by Elsa. She was supporting her and even defending her.
“Let’s go up,” Elsa said.
Mother smiled. “Ready? Together now.”
Yes, they were.
———
Once they were seated at a table in the tearoom, Elsa pulled a handkerchief from her handbag and dabbed her face and neck. Normally, she’d reserve such a task for the restroom but hadn’t the energy to make the extra trip.
“Thank you for that, back there.” She snapped her handkerchief away. “I’ve never seen you that way before. I rather enjoyed it.”
Chuckling, Mother leaned forward. “So did I.”
Elsa could barely contain her surprise long enough to place their order with the waiter. “Have you changed, Mother?” she asked once they were alone again. “Or have we not spent enough time together for me to notice this side of you?”
Her small sigh fluttered the lilies in the vase between them. “A bit of both, I think. Now, please, tell me what’s going on. Your father told me you were feeling better. He said you’d been training to strengthen your body. Isn’t that what you shared with him last weekend?”
“I did.”
“And what have younottold us?”
“Wouldn’t you rather talk about Lauren’s wedding?” She pushed up a smile, but it wilted.
“I would rather hear about you.” One eyebrow arched in a stern but caring command.
The waiter returned with the tea trays, giving Elsa time to think as she watched the steaming brew being poured into their cups. It didn’t take long for her to decide on the truth.
“I saw Dr. Stanhope last week. In his office, that is. I made an appointment with him.”
Mother blanched. “That man. There’s a reason we discontinued his services partway through your boarding school years.”
Elsa’s cup rattled in its saucer. “Why do you say that?”
“Whenever I questioned his choices and predictions, he made me feel as though I were a fool. He was the doctor, he told me. I ought to let him do the thinking. My job, I suppose, was to ensure his payments were on time.”
“What—what did you question, specifically?” Elsa looped her finger through the teacup handle. Heat from the cup burned her knuckle.
“Staying away from you when I knew you were sick at boarding school. He told me I would only teach you that pretending illness was the right way to get my attention.”
“Did you think I was pretending?”
Mother shook her head, then hid a trembling chin behind her teacup as she sipped. “I didn’t know what to think. The doctor told me not to try. I was too emotional. He was the one being paid to think on our behalf.”
Too emotional? Before today, Elsa wouldn’t have been able to picture Mother’s emotions rippling beneath the surface, let alone breaking through. But now she had a glimpse of what lay underneath. Perhaps Mother had learned to suppress her feelingslong ago. Perhaps she held her expressions as rigidly as her posture out of habit.
“You’re allowed to have feelings, Mother. You’re even allowed to show them.”
She drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I was raised to believe otherwise. But tell me about your visit to Dr. Stanhope and I may not be able to hold them back.”
Elsa told her everything, from the reasons for the visit to his accusations that her increasing weakness and pain was the result of a fresh bout of jealousy over her mother’s attentions to Lauren. She told her about Luke, who supported her before the appointment and since.
“Supporting you how?”
“Literally, metaphorically, consistently, voluntarily.” Not bothering to hide her smile, Elsa stirred cream into her tea and sipped again.
