Betrayed (Rosato & DiNunzio, #2)(78)
Her mother nodded, tacitly accepting the correction. “But the thing is, we’re all so proud of you, the way you’ve grown up, a lawyer making a wonderful living, you and Frank on your way to getting married. Barb has even been saving up all these years for your wedding, she wants to pay for everything—”
“I’m not marrying Frank,” Judy blurted out, surprising even herself.
Her mother blinked, her tears gone, though her eyes were red and puffy. “Well, whatever you choose to do, Barb and I thought it was getting on time to tell you, but then her illness shifted everything forward.”
Judy tried to follow the timeline. “Did you know she had breast cancer before this weekend? Did you know about the chemo?”
“No, that came as a surprise to me, too. Barb thought she could beat it and she didn’t want to worry me, but when she needed the surgery, she decided not to wait any longer, to tell you.”
Judy swallowed hard, thinking of how awful Aunt Barb must be feeling, looking down the barrel at a dreaded diagnosis, and on top of that, knowing that she was keeping a terrible secret.
“Needless to say, if anything happens to her, she wants you to know the truth, while she’s still alive. She wants to be able to explain her actions and she wants you to be able to hear it from her.”
“What do you want?” Judy said, speaking from the heart. She suddenly knew how her mother must be feeling and even why she’d put off telling the truth for so long. Because suddenly, Judy was losing the only mother she had ever known.
“I wanted you,” her mother said, leaning forward urgently, her hands clasped together on her lap. “I wanted you from the minute I saw you, an adorable, blue-eyed baby girl. We were so happy, very happy, all of us together. You fit right in, and then we had Billy and John, and we became a family, a real family.”
“Not a real family. It wasn’t real.” Judy tried to process it, thinking of her brothers. “Do they know, too? Billy and John? And Tommy? Do they all know?”
“No. They thought we were a family, and I thought we were, too. But we weren’t, I see that now.” Her mother frowned deeply, agonized. “That’s why I know the problems in our relationship were my fault, my responsibility, and now you know that’s true. You’ve been a good daughter to me, a wonderful daughter. You reached out to me time after time, until you finally gave up.”
Judy cringed inwardly, because it struck such a chord. She could remember trying to connect with her mother, but after a while, she had simply stopped.
“I was holding back inside, knowing you weren’t mine forever, not like the boys. I was protecting myself, but I hurt you in the process.” Her mother shook her head, looking down for a moment. “I’m so sorry. It was a bad and selfish decision, made in a different time, for the wrong reasons. I realize now that we actually picked the worst possible choice. I was afraid to love you fully, and Barb was afraid to love you fully. You never had either of us completely. Our beautiful, blue-eyed baby girl fell between the cracks.”
Judy understood her mother and Barb, and she even understood why they’d done what they’d done, but it didn’t make it any less sad. Somehow she ended up betwixt and between, hollow and hurting, her hands empty. She felt her eyes well up.
“The amazing thing to me is the natural affinity you and Barb have for each other. You just fit together.” Her mother’s eyes welled up, too. “You two are a wonderful pair, a true mother and daughter, even though you didn’t even know she was your mother. Nothing defeats nature, not even words.”
Judy realized it was true, that she had always felt closer to her aunt, and she wondered if her heart had known something she hadn’t been willing to acknowledge. She found herself edging backwards toward the threshold, aware of her actions only because Penny bounded off the bed, her tail wagging,
“Are you going somewhere?” her mother asked, rising slowly.
“Uh, yes.” Judy didn’t know where she was going, but she knew that she didn’t want to stay here. “Just out, I think. I think I’ll just go out.”
“Don’t go.” Her mother frowned, plainly worried. “It’s late, and it’s not a good idea to drive when you’re upset.”
“I’ll drive safe, Mom,” Judy said reflexively, then turned away and walked stiffly down the hall, with the dog trotting happily behind her.
Chapter Thirty-four
Judy found herself parked in the dark in front of Frank’s grandfather’s rowhouse, without remembering having driven here. She wiped her tears with her sleeve, then went into the console and found some napkins, which she used to dry her eyes and blow her juicy nose, hard and noisily. She knew Frank was still awake because the light was on in the front window, and through the old-school sheer curtains, she could see the bright colors of the TV, undoubtedly tuned to Monday Night Football. She looked around the skinny side street and spotted Cartman’s Jeep parked under a streetlight up ahead, so that meant the boys were over, watching the game again.
She tossed the napkin aside, eased back into the driver’s seat, and tried to decide what to do. She must have wanted to see Frank because she’d driven here, but she hadn’t realized the game would be on and she didn’t know how it would go down if she went inside. The last thing she wanted was an instant replay, no pun intended, and she knew she must look a mess. She shifted up in her seat and checked the rearview mirror, taken aback at her reflection, even in the dim light. It wasn’t only that her eyes, nose, and lips were red and puffy, but for the first time in her life, she looked at her own face through new eyes, as if she had never seen herself before.