Anything for Her(65)

“Why don’t we walk outside and be sure the neighbors can hear,” her mother said furiously. “Is that what you want?”

“No!” Allie yelled. “What I want is to tell the truth to one man. I want him to know me. Why is that too much to ask?”

Her mother stared at her without saying anything for a long time. She seemed to have aged ten years in the past ten minutes. “You’re the one person in the world I’ve always been able to depend on,” she said finally, her bewilderment obvious. “I never dreamed...” She broke off.

Allie’s sinuses felt hot. Her mother saw this as a betrayal. Was it? Something hurt in her couldn’t let go, though. “Did you assume I’d never marry? That you’d never have to worry about me wanting to...to trust someone else this much?”

“How can you say that?” Mom’s voice was constricted, wounded. “Of course I wanted you to have a full life! What I didn’t expect was that you’d believe you had to risk our lives to prove to a man that you loved him.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what is it? Make me understand.”

They finally sat down in the living room. Allie tried to explain her confusion. “As Allie Wright, I’m not whole. Because I am Chloe, too, and even Laura. Don’t you see? You were an adult when all this happened. The different names were only labels for you. You were whole. I never had the chance.”

Mom didn’t get it, she could tell. What Allie didn’t know was why. Was she so fixated on her fear that the boogeyman would come after them, she couldn’t see how unlikely it was? Or was she completely unable to see that her daughter was very different from her?

Allie sat looking at her mother and had an unsettling moment. They’d always been so close, depending on each other. She’d have sworn they knew each other. What she should be asking herself now was whether Mom had ever really known her. But instead she thought, Do I really know her?

For the first time in forever, she remembered watching her mother during that long-ago week in Florida, when her parents had argued in bursts, cutting off each time they realized one of their kids had come within hearing distance. Even outside of her own fear and disbelief at what they were arguing about, she’d been perplexed because Mom seemed different. And...she never went back to being the same Mom she’d been before.

Dad had been angry, frustrated, then ultimately stunned. She, though, had had an air of suppressed excitement. She seemed to carry herself taller, to fill more space. In fact, all the changes they underwent made Dad smaller and Mom larger. Had she liked that? Allie asked herself now. Was it possible her mother had been unhappy before, unsatisfied with who she was or with her life, and was secretly thrilled to grab at an entirely new self—a heroine? Or was it only the pride Allie had believed it to be?

Dear God, Allie thought, I hope that was it.

Could her parents’ marriage have been in trouble already, before her mother stayed late at work that day and overheard the conversation that shattered their lives? It struck Allie now that her father had never talked to her and her brother, not apart from their mother, about what was going to happen to all of them. He was there, sometimes, but stayed quiet, letting his wife take the lead and explain. He’d never talk about it later, either. What did he think about how Mom changed?

Maybe I never really knew either of them.

Maybe her mother had never shared the disorientation the rest of them felt, or even the grief.

It was weird how memories could cascade. Suddenly she remembered how when they were at Nanna’s she’d often hear sharp voices from the kitchen. Nanna had loved traditions, but Mom thought they were ridiculous. Allie discovered now that she’d captured a picture of Nanna’s expression as she watched her daughter. It had been so very sad.

Mom, Allie remembered, hadn’t liked Nanna’s tatted snowflakes at all and had put them on the Christmas tree after a snapped “Oh, I suppose her feelings would be hurt if we didn’t.”

Allie had grieved when they left, knowing she’d never again see this grandmother, whom she loved so much. But Mom hadn’t actually liked her own mother that much.

Not more than a minute had passed. Allie’s mother watched her with distress and a lot of other emotions Allie couldn’t read at all. Not that long ago, she would have been blithely certain she knew what her mother thought and felt. But I was wrong. So wrong, she thought, dazed.

Or...maybe I’m wrong now.