Page 72 of Time To Live Again

She shakes her head. “No, thanks. I’d like to have a heart-to-heart with my daughter.”

“Okay. Let’s sit.” Leo’s song of the day, “Unstoppable” by Sia, is playing. I turn off the music and set the phone facedown on the table. I drape her jacket over the arm of the couch, then toss the scattered pillows aside. She sits down, her shoulders squared and tense, hands clasped in her lap. I join her, one leg folded under me on the couch and my back against the armrest.

“Talk to me, Mom. I want everything out in the open. This conversation is long overdue.”

She nods wearily. I reach over and grab her hands to encourage her to speak. A few seconds later, she says, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said to me. And your uncle Bruce. And Andy. You were right—instead of me listening to anyone else, I only thought about myself.

“Your dad left us without warning. What began as a great day ended with him never coming home again. Never sleeping in our bed, never kissing me throughout the day, never saying ‘I love you,’ never teasing me about my baking skills—” Her voice cracks and she closes her eyes. I blink back the stubborn tears that want to make an appearance. She takes a few deep breaths and continues. “Instead of dealing with his death, I put all my energy into you and Andy. Andy left without a second thought, and I shifted my focus to you. When I showed up on your birthday and Andy told me you’d left and wouldn’t say where you were, I?—”

Oh.“Mom?—”

She raises her hand for me to stop. “It seems like everyone is leaving, and I’ll be left here alone. Your dad was my best friend, but you’re my only daughter and best girlfriend.”

That’s another thing I don’t understand about Mom. She doesn’t have her own friends. My parents had friends who were married or couples, and they only socialized in pairs. She was content with Dad.

She continues. “I’m ashamed that I didn’t urge you to get help after LA and your father’s death. Instead, I made sure you needed me because, without that, my life has no purpose. I’m sorry, honey. Caring for my family was my favorite role, and now it feels like no one needs me anymore. The house is cold and empty, and the silence is unbearable.”

I move closer and rest my hand on her back. “Mom, I’ll always need you, but we need boundaries. This was both of our faults. I hung on to you too. We’ve experienced traumatic events, and instead of dealing with them head-on, we gave up. At least I did, anyway.”

“But what made you leave on your birthday?”

“Believe it or not, it’s because I watchedUnder the Tuscan Sunright after Christmas. Do you remember that movie? We saw it together years ago.”

She tugs on her lower lip while deep in thought. “I think so,” she says. “With Diane Lane, right?”

“Mm hmm. Remember the part where her best friend was talking about her being at a crossroads?” When she nods, I continue. “Well, there was this quote that her friend said, something like, ‘Someday, someone will look at you and wonder what happened to make you so miserable and closed off.’ And I realized at that moment I was like that woman, and I was a few days away from turning thirty.

“I knew I had to do something, Mom. Uncle Bruce and Andy had been nagging me to get a life. And I’m sorry, but if I’d told you, you would’ve insisted on going with me.”

She fiddles with her fingernails, then glances at me. “You’re right.”

“I needed to be in a new environment where I could find myself again. It was scary as hell to go to a hotel alone.”

She places her hand on my knee. “You might not believe this, but I’m really proud of you. And envious. I don’t know if I could do that.”

“That’s because you had Dad. You never had to do things alone. Now’s your chance. Being alone can be awful, but it can be awesome too. Go make new friends, take advantage of your freedom, and try new things. Like me—I found a puppy yoga studio nearby and there’s a class tomorrow morning. I’m gonna try it. Want to go with me?”

“Puppy yoga? I do love puppies.” She crinkles her nose. “Not sure about the yoga thing. My body’s not as flexible as it was in my twenties.”

I snicker. “Who cares? It’s something new. You might like it. You might even decide to get a dog. You’ve always said you wanted one but couldn’t because of Dad’s allergies.”

“Hmm.”

I wrap both of my hands around hers. “Promise me you’ll think about it. I’m telling you, Mom—one week away has changed everything for me.”

“You do seem happier or lighter. I like your new hair color.” She lifts a strand.

“Thanks.” I perk up. “While I was there, I had a little makeover and bought some new clothes.”

The doorbell rings, and we both jump. I head to the door and open it eagerly. A mailman hands me a box. Leo’s cologne. I want to tear it open and smell him again, but I’ll wait until Mom leaves. I set the box on the kitchen counter and return to the couch.

“It’s wonderful to see you smiling again.” Mom’s eyes fill with regret. “I’m such a terrible mother. I never imagined I’d become this kind of parent. Please forgive me, Olive. I promise I’ll do better.”

“I Was Born to Love You” pulses in the air, interrupting us again. “I’m sorry, Mom. Let me turn it off.” I pick it up and beam when I see his name. I turn the volume off and rest it on the couch.

“You’re glowing. What’s going on?” Mom comments, her own smile growing.

Suddenly nervous, I stuff my hands between my legs. “Um. I met someone while I was on Orcas Island.”

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