Page 112 of The Attraction File

She got up, the sleeves of her flowery blouse fluttering as she came over trying to pull me from my seat. I let her.

We began to walk toward the door. “No wonder you were drinking that terrible tea and wouldn’t eat my soup. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out myself. I had given up hope for grandkids, but now. Ahh, I’m just so excited.”

As we made our way down the street toward the Red Line station, she kept her hands on me guiding me.

“This isn’t 1950 anymore, Mom. If a woman is over thirty she can still have children.”

“Of course. Of course. But you never dated and when it became obvious you and Edgar were finally together, I had a small hope you two would marry. But knowing how you are, I didn’t let that hope grow.”

The train pulled up just then and we walked on. It was relatively empty, being the middle of the day. We got two seats together.

“And, how am I?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it. I think you are wonderful, smart, loyal, and have a big heart. But you hide those things from the world. You put up this wall and I know why. It breaks my heart to know why you do it. I feel guilty for not protecting you more.” A few tears ran down my mother’s face.

“Mom, don’t. You didn’t know he was doing that to me.”

She blamed herself for what Damien had done. But I was a teenager. I kept things to myself back then. Now I knew better, but back then I believed him when he told me my mom would be jealous. Would blame me for being so beautiful that I stole him away from her.

I hated my looks. Hated how they made men look at me, and believed they were the reason I would break my mother’s heart. It wasn’t until my mom and that cop found me outside the women’s shelter two days after I ran away did I realize how foolish I had been.

My mother wasn’t jealous, she was heartbroken that I hadn’t told her. We went to the police station together and they finally believed me. When I had gone the week before alone, the cop rolled his eyes at me. Told me it was obvious I was just trying to get attention. That’s why I ran. I thought no one would believe me. They would all hate me.

“No matter how old you become or even if you are a mother yourself, you will always be my baby, Evaleen. Please, don’t run away again.”

The sadness that filled her gaze caused my heart to ache. I pulled her close to me, wrapping my arm around her back. My head leaned on hers. “I don’t know what else to do.”

And I didn’t. I ran, it’s what I did. And even if that hadn’t been the best thing to do in the past, it was the right thing to do now.

“How can I stay with a man who doesn’t want this baby?”

“Oh, Evaleen. I’m so sorry. That’s such a shame. I thought he was smarter than that.”

We rode the rest of the way in silence. Once we were off the train, she held my hand as we weaved our way through the streets and back to Edgar’s place.

I threw my keys on his entryway table and felt melancholy as I glanced around. This was a nice place and I would miss it. It wasn’t big and showy with glass walls overlooking Lake Michigan like some expensive condo. It didn’t even have an ultra-modern design as I would’ve expected a millionaire executive to prefer. Especially a rich bachelor. It was warm and inviting. I’m sure the furniture was expensive, but everything felt like a home and not a show place.

“How about I heat up some broth and some crackers. Will you eat that?” My mom headed toward the kitchen as I followed.

“I think broth and crackers sounds great. It’s so terrible. I’m hungry but everything makes me sick or nauseous. I just want to be able to eat normal food again.” I groaned and threw my hands in the air in anger.

“What’s this? Did you leave cookies out? Oh, I get it. Evaleen, that’s so sweet.” My mother moved toward the kitchen bar blocking whatever she was looking at.

“Cookies? Mom, the only solid food I have had for two weeks are crackers. I did manage to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich a week ago, but that’s it.”

I came to stand next to my mom and saw a plate of sugar cookies and a glass of iced tea. It looked like most of the ice had melted with only one small cube left.

“I think Edgar left that. He did the same thing in London. I guess it’s his way of telling me he’s sorry.”

Sort of a sad gift for an apology. It only reminded me of how he touched me that night. Took my virginity and promised things that rang hollow now. I saw an envelope off to the side and picked it up.

“He did it in London too. Wow, are you sure he doesn’t want the baby?”

I turned to my mom. “What is so great about some sugar cookies and iced tea? Am I not getting it? Because they’re cookies, Mom. Just cookies.”

Sure, I was pregnant and emotional because of all the hormones, but he tried to apologize with cookies. That’s terrible.

“You really don’t know? The cookies were in your book The Scottish Prince, where Ewan feeds his new bride shortbread biscuits because she is nervous on their wedding night being a virgin. It’s one of the sweetest and later on, sexiest, scenes you have ever written, Evaleen.”

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