“Olivia,” Dad murmurs under his breath.
I carefully place my silverware back on the table, instantly irritated. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is because I care and I’m your mother,” Mom says, voice close to pleading. “You cut me out so much. I’m not tender and loving like my cousin but I love you and I just want to know what’s going on in your life.”
“No, you want to control it.”
She stares at me, mouth agape. “Harper, that’s not even remotely true.”
“Yes,” I say carefully, voice cold. “You think that if you can control my seizures, I’ll be normal. You’ll have a normal child.”
“Harp,” Dad says quietly, his hand landing heavily on my forearm.
I shake his hand off. “No. She always does this.”
“It’s because you’re both so similar,” Dad hisses, clearly at his breaking point. He turns worried eyes on Jackson, before letting his gaze return to me. “If you listened to the intention behind her words, you’d see how much she loves you but you’re both so pigheaded that you only see the worst in one another.”
Possible, although unlikely. Mom keeps her head downcast, a tear rolling down her cheek. She stands, hand trembling on the table, before quietly excusing herself. Suddenly, I don’t feel so much like I’ve won anymore. Dad stares worriedly after her.
I stand on shaky legs. Jackson looks towards me, his gaze offering support only if I need it. My smile is shaky, but he accepts it, not coming with me when I flee after my mother.I find her in her office, a crumpled tissue caught between her thin fingers. She takes one look at me and sniffles deeply, embarrassed that I’m seeing her fall apart. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen my mother cry. She’s made of steel, always, which is another reason why she joins me for every medical appointment. Dad would cry and fall apart, whereas Mom is perpetually put together.
“I have never once wished you werenormal, Harper. Because there is nothing abnormal about you. The best day of my life was the day they placed you in my arms and told me you were mine. I swear it.”
A rock forms in my throat, tears threatening to fall. “The way you show it is hard for me to understand. I’ve always thought…”
Mom scoffs loudly. “Just because you think something doesn’t make it true. Sure, I’m not the most nurturing woman on the planet, but I’ve always taken care of you the best I can. Given you whatever you need to succeed. When I ask about the seizures it’s because I’mterrifiedfor you. Not because they anger me.”
“I don’t get it,” I say slowly. “We speak different languages.”
“I agree.”
“The way you show your love…” I trail off and take a deep breath as I stare her down. “I interpret it as being a burden. That you don’t want to be there for me, that I’m a bother.”
“I never meant?—”
“I know that now,” I interrupt her. “But it doesn’t mean I haven’t felt a certain way for most of my life. You can be short and sometimes cruel. I think maybe distance is better for us until you can finally accept I'm an adult and can take care of myself.”
She releases a loud breath. “You’ll always be my baby, though. I wish… I’m sorry I don’t show you love the way you need.”
“Yes, well.” I shrug with my hands out. “Jackson shows me.”
Her chin trembles as she stares at me. “Really?”
“Yes. When I let him.”
Her eyes sweep to the side as she carefully wipes her tears away to avoid messing up her makeup. “Jackson is lovely. He’s going to marry you.”
“Maybe.”
“Would you say yes if he asked?”
“Yes.” It’s the only possible answer.
Mom aims a watery smile at me. “Good, good. Do you let him take care of you?”
I grimace. “As much as I can.”
“Well, that gets better with time too. I’m sorry; I’ll try to be better. I hope, well, I hope you know that I love you even if I show it badly.” She crosses the few feet between us, and we hug awkwardly. I try not to cringe. Her smile is just as awkward and pained when she pulls away. “I guess we should get back out there. I fear what your father is instilling in that young man's mind.”
