Betrayed (Rosato & DiNunzio, #2)(75)
“Good night.” Judy hung up, slipped the phone back into her pocket, and opened the door, holding the compress to her mouth. Penny scooted out of the bathroom, going to Judy’s mother. “Mom, I’m fine.”
“Oh really.” Her mother cocked her head and folded her arms over her chest, managing to look concerned and chic at the same time. “Let me see your face.”
“I hurt my mouth but it’s not a big deal. See?” Judy moved the washrag, and her mother recoiled.
“Oh my, how did you do that? Did somebody hit you?”
“No, of course not.” Judy tried to think of a good lie, fast. “I stopped short in the car because I thought something ran across my path, and I hit my mouth on the steering wheel.”
“Didn’t you have your seat belt on?” Her mother scrutinized the wound. “You’re going to need to put some Neosporin on that.”
“No, I had just started the car, so I didn’t have it on yet.” Judy set the wet rag on the sink, went into the medicine cabinet, and found a tube of Neosporin.
“You should put your seat belt on before you start the car. You know that. Here, let me help.” Suddenly her mother stepped forward to grab the tube of Neosporin, startling Judy, who cringed reflexively, her body remembering what her brain wanted to forget. Her mother’s mouth dropped open and her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Honey, what’s the matter with you? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I know, let me do it.” Judy took back the tube, but her hand shook, and she and her mother saw it at the same time.
“Judy, somebody hit you.”
“No they didn’t.”
“Yes, they did. I wasn’t born yesterday.” Her mother pursed her lips, blinking. “Why can’t you tell me?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Why can’t you be honest with me?” her mother asked, wounded. Her blue eyes filmed with tears that seemed to come out of nowhere, and her gaze held Judy’s for a moment of naked pain, unlike any Judy had ever seen in her.
“Mom,” Judy started to say, but her mother turned away and walked down the hall. Judy went after her, following her into the bedroom to find her mother slumping at the edge of the bed, wiping tears away. She looked so out of place, a forlorn figure against the sunny yellow walls of the bedroom, filled with Judy’s vivid, colorful oils. “I’m sorry, Mom. Please don’t be upset.”
Her mother stifled a sob, covering her mouth with her hand, and Judy felt surprised and guilty at making her mother cry. She didn’t know where it had come from, and the only time she’d ever seen her mother cry was at Judy’s grandfather’s funeral.
“I’m really sorry, Mom.” Judy sat down beside her and put an arm around her mother’s shoulders, while Penny jumped onto the bed and flopped down on the comforter behind them.
“It’s just hard, that’s all. It’s very hard.” Her mother shook her head, but didn’t look over.
“I know, there’s a lot going on right now, with Aunt Barb and everything. It’s just all catching up with you.” Judy hugged her shoulders gently. “Why don’t I make us some tea, some chamomile, and then we can go to bed?”
Her mother kept shaking her head. “It’s not that. It’s not Barb. It’s us. It’s me. We’re not close, we can’t even talk about anything.”
“What do you mean, Mom?” Judy felt terrible that her mother was so upset, but there was no way she could tell her about the barracks.
“It’s just so hard, to be a mother, there’s so many things I didn’t understand.” Her mother’s tone softened, pained. “It’s like you have a window of time, and it’s a small window. It’s not much time, really. They say life is short, but the truth is, motherhood is short.”
Judy didn’t understand. “Motherhood is forever, Mom. A girl always needs her mom.”
“No, it’s like you have one shot to be a good mother. The window is until your child’s twelve or thirteen, and by then, I knew I had blown it with you. I just had blown it. What I did with the boys didn’t work with you.”
“You didn’t blow it, Mom.” Judy had never seen her mother like this, so vulnerable, and they’d never talked about their relationship, so directly. “You were a great mother, and you still are. You’re a great mother.”
“No, honestly, I’m not, I’m a terrible mother to you. I don’t know what I did wrong. I failed.” Her mother’s shoulders shuddered with a new sob, and Judy held her tighter.
“That’s not true, I love you. We love each other.”
“No, I love you, but I’ve done a terrible job. I’ve made a mess of it. I failed you.” Her mother heaved another sob, trying to strangle it in her throat but not succeeding, and Judy’s heart broke at the sound.
“Mom, now, this isn’t true. You’ve always been there for me, I know that.”
“How do you know that?” Her mother looked up at her abruptly, her eyes brimming and bloodshot. “I’m asking you a question. How do you know that? How do you know I’m there for you, if you never tell me anything? Never call upon me? Never even call me?”
Judy thought a minute, seeing from her mother’s questioning gaze that she wouldn’t get away with less than the absolute truth. “You know how I know, Mom? You really want to know how I know?”