Page 203 of The Dixon Rule

“Did something happen with Percival?” she asks in concern.

I suddenly realize I haven’t spoken to her at all about what happened with Percy. I told Dad that I would contact her when I was ready to talk, and while I did touch base briefly, I never actually talked to her about it.

It’s becoming more and more obvious that the failure of this relationship is two-sided.

“I’m an asshole,” I blurt out.

“What?” She’s startled.

“I never even called you to talk about what happened.”

“No,” she says tightly. “You didn’t.”

Despite my epiphany, a familiar note of accusation creeps in. “But you didn’t call me either.”

“You told your father you would discuss it when you were ready. I’m not the type to push.”

Frustration tightens my throat. “But you should push, Mom. You should.”

She doesn’t respond.

“My ex-boyfriend punched me in the face. You should have been on the first plane out of New York to come see me.” I sigh. “I’m not upset about it—”

“Really? Because it sounds like you’re upset about it.”

“No. I’m sorry. I’m having a thought explosion.”

“A thought explosion.” There’s amusement in her voice.

“Yes, just…let me unjumble this.” I take a breath. “I didn’t want to talk to you about Percy because I was embarrassed. I thought that you would blame me.”

She gasps. “Sweetheart. Do you truly believe that?”

“I did. But now I’m realizing it was my own insecurities making me believe that. I’m so used to thinking I’m a disappointment to you, I’m not smart enough for you, that when Percy snapped on me, I kept thinking how disappointed you would be or that you’d think I was dumb enough to let it happen—”

“Diana!” She sounds genuinely upset. “I would never think—”

“I know that now,” I interrupt. “It was all coming from an irrational place. But…” I let out another breath. “My boyfriend’s father died.”

“Oh.” She’s startled by the abrupt subject change. “I’m sorry to hear that. This is the hockey player?”

“Yes, the hockey player. He’s a lot more than that, though. But yeah, he just lost his dad. His sister has been staying with him this week, and her mom has been checking in every single day.”

I hear a sigh on the other end. “Don’t tell me you want me to call you every day, because that hasn’t been the nature of our relationship your entire life.”

“It hasn’t,” I agree. “And I’m not saying I want that, but a little interest in my life is not too much to ask for.”

“I show interest.”

“No, Mom, you don’t. You criticize me when I talk to you about cheerleading or my dance competition. I understand you’re not interested in it, but guess what. You can fake it.” I start to laugh. “I fake it all the time. I’m not too interested in hockey, but I make the effort and listen to my boyfriend talk about it. Because it’s his passion. And when Dad goes on about his stupid sausages and his butcher, I pretend to care. But guess what, I don’t care about meat!”

Mom giggles. “Oh my God. Does he still go on about Gustav?”

“Yes, and it’s obnoxious. But that’s what you do when you love people. Support their interests. I’m not saying I want you to start coming to my cheer competitions. I know we’re different. But I don’t want to miss out on a relationship with you just because we’re completely different people. Like, we must have something in common. Some common ground. I just don’t think we’ve tried hard enough to find it.”

“No,” she says quietly. “I don’t think we have either.”

“Well, I’m willing to do it if you are. I’m willing to put in the effort.”

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