Betrayed (Rosato & DiNunzio, #2)(98)

Judy let it sink in. She had never seen her mother that way, because she couldn’t have, but she understood now.

“Imagine opening your heart to let in a child that you know will be angry at you for the decision you made—when you did it with the best of intentions, to give that child a home? And can you understand her not wanting that day to come? For putting off telling you, as long as she could?”

Judy swallowed hard. She glanced at her mother, who kept her head down, rubbing her linked fingers together in her lap.

“Still think she was a coward? I don’t. I think she was a human being. I think she was a woman, with a heart.” Aunt Barb shook her head sadly. “So let’s give your mother some credit, because she was your mother, she did raise you, and she didn’t tell you the truth because she wanted things to stay the way they were. She’s terrified to lose you.”

“Mom, you won’t lose me,” Judy blurted out, though her mother didn’t look up. “You could never lose me, either of you. I just feel angry—”

“Of course you do,” Aunt Barb said quickly. “We have lived this way for this long, and you can call it a lie or a betrayal, and I suppose you’re right about that, but to me, what we call each other isn’t the thing that matters. Even that I’m your birth mother, and your mother is the one who raised you, that doesn’t matter either.”

“How can you say that?” Judy asked, bewildered. “What matters then?”

“Judy, to me, those things are just on the surface. We’re no different from a woman, or a girl, who puts up a child for adoption and is lucky enough to find that child welcomed with loving arms, by another woman. Both women are mothers.” Aunt Barb’s eyes flashed with new animation, and her tone strengthened. “The only difference here is that I was lucky enough to stay in your life, and if you think back, I’ve been in your life, for all of your life.”

Judy thought back, to the events in her life. To college graduation, and law school. Aunt Barb had organized the luncheons afterward, with her mother. Judy remembered when she was a child, to Brownies, then to Girl Scouts. Aunt Barb had sold cookies in front of the supermarket with Judy. Aunt Barb had been the den mother, not her mother, and she had even chaperoned the field trips. Aunt Barb had woven herself into Judy’s life, the two of them there for her, for as far back as Judy could remember.

“We shared you, in a way, you know. We sat down with your schedule for your various activities, your choir recitals and such, and even for your soccer games, home and away. Whatever you were doing, we did as many as we could together.” Aunt Barb met her gaze directly. “There were times, too, when we actually took turns. Your mom was kind enough to step aside for some things, to let me have you all to myself.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

“Like the aquarium?” Judy asked, the memory coming out of the blue. She remembered that the aquarium trip had always been a sore spot with her, because her mother had simply said she was too busy to go, so Aunt Barb had gone instead. “Did you guys agree that you should be the chaperone, not mom?”

“What grade was that in? Remind me.” Aunt Barb frowned in confusion. “It’s my chemo brain again, or maybe that’s an excuse. I remember the trip, but I don’t remember the grade.”

“Fifth,” Judy answered, beginning to feel a new sympathy for her mother, whom she’d blamed whenever she wasn’t there, sending Aunt Barb in her place.

“Yes, I remember now. She went to the zoo trip, because I took you to the aquarium. You loved the puffins. You wouldn’t stop watching them.”

“Yes.”

Her mother looked up, with a sad smile. “You came home with the toy puffin. It’s still in your room.”

“Yes. You named him Mort.”

“Right.” The sadness left her mother’s smile. “What a name.”

“Besides I think he’s a girl,” Aunt Barb chimed in, with a chuckle.

Judy felt the knot in her chest loosen, relieved that all this time, her awkwardness with her mother wasn’t her fault, and that nothing she could have done would have made it better. Somehow the lifting of the secret relieved the burden of guilt she’d felt every minute, until now.

Aunt Barb continued, “Judy, we both love you, like a mother. We have both spent our lives mothering you. I completely understand that you think of my sister as your mother, and I would never dream of asking you to change that, nor do I even want you to.” Aunt Barb shook her head, her lips pursed with conviction. “Keep calling her your mother. She deserves that. She has earned that, in spades. And please keep calling me Aunt Barb. I’m used to it, I don’t want that to change. It’s only superficial. It’s form over substance. It’s not what I want.”

“What do you want then?” Judy’s emotions welled up. She realized that Aunt Barb really was the unselfish person she’d always believed her to be.

“I want us to be honest and close, and take our new relationship as it comes, bit by bit. That’s how I took the chemo, that’s how I’m taking this mastectomy, and that’s how I’ll take the radiation, if I have to.”

Judy felt her resentment melt away, and Aunt Barb continued talking.

“We will go forward, getting our test results over time, changing our treatments and protocols, our dosages and our meds, revisiting our prognosis. You have to take it as it comes. That’s what I’ve learned, not from cancer, but from life.” Aunt Barb faced Judy’s mother, with a crooked smile. “We’ll muddle through, the three of us. We’ll fuss and bicker, but we’ll be fine. Won’t we, Delia?”