All I Ask(37)

“Talk about looking the Devil in the eye…”

“Be nice,” Chastity warns me as though I’m the kid.

Mom and I have barely spoken since my outburst at dinner. It’s been very…polite. My father probably laid into her and forced her to back off.

I’ve wondered, if they knew the truth about why Keith relinquished his rights, would their opinion of me change? I’m not sure and that keeps me playing the role they’ve cast me as and finding solace in my choice. I never want my daughter to be ashamed that I’m her mother. Her father is in a public role and that tape would’ve made headlines. She lives in a small town that would chew on the scandal for years. People might talk about me now, but Chastity would never escape that level of embarrassment.

“I’m always nice.”

Nina snorts. “We’re back here, Mrs. B.”

“There you are.” She sighs as though she’d searched high and low. “I have some new furniture in the truck that needs to be unloaded.”

“Mom, we’re running out of room.”

“Then we’ll have to make room.”

Great. She should star on an episode of Hoarders. The only excuse she has is that she sells her junk.

We all start to move toward the front, but she grabs my arm. “You stay with me.”

“I should help—”

“They can manage, we need to talk.”

Mom tosses her coat on the back of the chair and motions for me to sit.

“We don’t have to do this. All is fine in our world, Mother.”

“I think we do.”

In other words: I have no choice.

I don’t doubt that she loves me, but I don’t think she likes me. It’s hard because years ago, I was her pride and joy. When you go from being loved so much it’s stifling to being the shit on someone’s shoes, it’s heartbreaking. I want her to see that I’m not a total disappointment. Chastity is my one great thing.

“I’m sorry about the other night.”

My jaw falls slack as I try to decide if this is reality or not. “You’re what?”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Teagan. I’m sorry that I said those things.”

“Did Dad make you say this?”

Her eyes narrow. “No. He did not, thank you. I don’t want us to have this sort of relationship anymore. You’re my only child, and regardless of your choices, I still love you.”

There are two things here and I’m not sure which one is going to win out.

First, she said she was sorry. That has never happened.

Second, she still found a way to remind me that my decisions are a disappointment. Which makes me wonder if she’s sorry that I’m her daughter or that she can’t find a way to see past the things she doesn’t like.

“So what exactly are you sorry for, Mom?”

“All of it. I’m sorry that we fight so much. I’m sorry that we haven’t found a way to accept things as they are.”

“I’ve accepted it. That’s the thing.”

She sighs. “I just wanted more for you.”

I can understand that as a mother. I want the world for Chastity and I will be sad if her life doesn’t include college, a career, happiness, and everything she wants, but I won’t make her feel bad for it. That’s the difference.

“I did too, but I wanted you to stand by me, be there for me, and not make me feel small all the time.”

“That was never my intention. I thought I was giving you the truth to see that you’re better than this.”

She has never been good at emotions. I can’t remember seeing her cry or being overly joyful at anything. It’s why I pushed so hard as a kid to be everything she wanted. I thought that maybe she would really love me. Each accomplishment was just another rung to get higher on the social ladder. It was never good enough for her, and I don’t think it ever will be.

“I think you mean well, Mom. I really do. I have always wanted to make you proud. I hope that one day, I will.”

A long breath escapes her nose and her lips are in a thin line. “I’m already proud of you, Teagan. I know I don’t show it. I’m not perfect, and I hope you understand my heart was in the right place. You’re so smart, beautiful, and have a wonderful heart, I…I went about it wrong, but my intentions were always good.”

I have to accept that the way my mother loves me will never be the way I want her to love me. We may never see eye to eye, but maybe we can start talking heart to heart.

“I want for us to stop cutting each other down. I love you, Mom.”

She nods once, wiping at her eye. “I have some dust in my eye.” Her voice quivers.

“It’s probably because I didn’t get a chance to clean the shelves this week.” I give her an out.

“Oh, yes, it’s very dusty in here.”

“Definitely.”

“You’ll do the shelves today,” she instructs and straightens her back.

Emotions and my mother are a funny thing. “Of course.”

“Now that’s settled. Let’s get this store in order because it’s in total disarray.”

I laugh through my nose. “Sure, let’s get to work.”

*