I can’t gauge if Collie wants to share further, but in the off chance she does, I ask, “What about your sister? Capri, right?”
She nods and a smile appears. “She’s my best friend. Not sure I trust anyone in the world more than I do her. We’ve been through a lot together.”
“But she’s getting married and lives in Italy?” It’s a question I’m almost positive I know the answer to.
If there’s one thing I’m good at—it’s listening. All I’ve done over the last two years is listen to everyone, and it’s fucking suffocating.
But I oddly don’t feel like that right now.
Another nod from Collie. “And having a baby.”
I get it now.
She’s happy for her sister and best friend, but there’s a new loneliness that comes with losing someone you once had day in and day out.
Her case isn’t like a death, I suppose. But in a way, Collie has handed her sister over to her new fiancé and takes the seat as second best.
Second favorite.
“What about your parents? Are they around?”
“They are. My dad is one of the best men I know. But my mother is another story. Pretty sure she thinks I wrote the book on how to disappoint your parents. If only I could be as studious and pristine as her.”
“I’m familiar with expectations,” I sigh, realizing I can relate to Collie more than I expected.
“I hate it. I’ll never be who she wants me to be. My entire life, I was told I don’t talk with eloquence or dress classy enough. Cut-off shorts and a tank top just won’t do it in the Meadows household. God, I remember when I showed up with a lip ring and legit thought I would be on the streets by nightfall. I’d never felt so low in my life…as a child.” I let her talk, filling up her shot glass when she runs out. “There was one time she told me I had a mustache, and she would be making me an appointment for laser hair removal right away. I was twelve. Twelve! What kind of mother says that to her child?”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. A shitty one. I was so mad, I took a picture of the two of us and tore it into pieces in front of her face.”
“Jesus. What did she do?”
“Honestly, the unexpected. My Mother never acts out of line. She will kill you with her narcissistic kindness before ever raising her voice. But this time, she screamed. All Iremember is being dragged by my ear to the trash can with the torn pieces to throw them away. I’ve hated her ever since.”
I could never imagine my own mom doing something like that. Let alone treating me that way. “I’m sorry, Collie. That’s really fucking shitty.”
I know nothing I say will replace or take away those memories for her.
She’s her mother, for fuck’s sake.
Her eyes fall closed for a moment before she throws back her shot. “Yeah, well, that was my life. And she wonders why I never want to be around her. The sad part is…I’ll always love her. She’s my mom. And I’d forgive her in a heartbeat with just a sincere apology. Yet, I know that will never happen. If it did, I think she’d have the world on its side.”
I hate that for her. No child deserves to experience that kind of pain from someone made to care for them. As a child or an adult.
“And what about your dad? Does he ever say anything? Speak up to her at all?”
Collie shrugs. “There was a time when he did. Actually, he did a lot, and it only made things worse at home. Capri was always oblivious to it, and I work hard to keep it like that still. I know my dad loves me. He told me, showed me, and made up for the absence of love I received from my mom more than necessary at times. It helps that we’re so similar, and I low-key think my mom is envious of that. Hence, all our problems.”
“I’m glad you at least had him. I’ve seen the relationship my sister Palmer has with my mom and know how important it is. I hate that you missed out on that.”
She sends me a small smile, and I know it’s one of gratitude. “That’s okay. I made it this far on my own, ya know?I’m proud of the woman I am. Besides, if anything, it taught me the kind of mother Idon’twant to be to my own kids someday.”
She grabs the tequila bottle from my hand but doesn’t drink it. Doesn’t refill her cup. Just taps it against her leg like it calms her.
“I’m impressed by you, Collie. Not sure I’d have the same grace you do.”
She doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with endless questions in her eyes, yet no energy to ask them. I get that feeling well. So, I don’t pry any further. Somehow, I think leaving it at that is enough for her. Enough for Collie to know that although we hardly know each other, I’m willing to listen and do my best to understand.
