Page 56 of Still the One

Jamie puffs up her cheeks, then lets the air escape slowly. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“Hey.” I put a hand on her knee. “My mom knows what you mean to me. It’ll be all right.” I squeeze Jamie’s knee. “She just wants me to be happy, and you make me happy.” I understand it’s daunting for Jamie to see my mother again. It’s not like the other night when Jamie’s dad called and asked to speak to me, his voice shaky with emotion.

“Thank goodness I’m charming,” Jamie jokes, but her heart’s not fully in it.

“And you brought half a bakery worth of goodies.”

We collect the bags of bread, cake, and biscuits—baking was the only way Jamie could cope—and make our way to the front door. It swings open before we can knock.

“Gabby, sweetheart.” My mother holds her arms wide. “There’s just no way you’re fifty years old. It can’t possibly be.” She ignores Jamie’s presence and throws her arms around me. “I could swear I only had you yesterday.” She plants a few kisses on my cheek. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” She holds on to me a while longer, as though she doesn’t want to let go.

I clear my throat. “Um, Mom?”

She releases me from her hold, then looks over at Jamie. She gives her a once-over. She shakes her head slightly. “Oh, Jamie,” she says. “I never thought I’d see the day.” To my surprise, she opens her arms to Jamie as well. “Come here.”

Jamie puts the bags down and awkwardly steps into my mother’s embrace. It’s a far cry from the mother-daughter hug we just shared, but it’s a whole lot more than I was expecting her to give.

“It’s lovely to see you, Ms. Mackenzie,” Jamie mumbles.

My mother scoffs. “Really? You’re going to Ms. Mackenzie me? I don’t think so. It’s always been Suzanne to you.” She releases Jamie from her hold.

“Suzanne it is,” Jamie says, and with that, the top layer of ice seems to be broken.

My mother and Jamie always got along, but when Jamie dumped me, my mother’s claws came out. She witnessed the pain it caused me and her maternal instinct was to lash out at Jamie. She reacted how most mothers do when their child gets brutally hurt. But a lot of time has gone by, and my mother has twenty-five more years of life wisdom on me, including the capacity to forgive.

“So this all happened in Maui,” Mom says, looking from me to Jamie and back.

We’re sitting on the back porch, each with a glass of champagne in our hands.

“Maybe I should go to Maui sometime,” my mother continues. “There must be something in the water there.”

“Do you have an old flame to rekindle?” I ask.

She just shrugs. “Not for any rekindling, but just to see what miracle would be in store for me.” She draws up her eyebrows. “Because that’s what this looks like to me.” She focuses her gaze on Jamie. “Nothing short of an enormous miracle.”

“I’m with you there, Suzanne,” Jamie says.

“When Gabby told me you were back in her life, I was shocked, I can tell you that.” She slants her head. “Jamie Sullivan. I never thought I’d allow you into my house again.”

“I’m over the moon to be here,” Jamie says. Under the table, her foot finds me and she hooks her ankle behind mine.

“I’m not without trepidation,” my mother says. “Surely, you understand why, but… Well, it somehow makes sense. Seeing the two of you together, it just somehow does.” She rests her gaze on me and sends me a quick smile. “The motherly advice I’d like to give you is to not let the years you didn’t have come between you now.” She lifts her glass. “You’re fifty years old, for crying out loud.” There’s a sudden tremor in her voice. “Nothing I have done in my life compares to you, darling. Nothing. It doesn’t even come close.” She turns to Jamie. “And you better take care of her. Even though it’s the most futile promise to make, I’m still going to need you to promise me, Jamie.”

Jamie brings a hand to her chest. “I promise you, with all that I am, that I will treat Mac like the princess she is.”

“Damn right,” Mom says, and sips from her glass.

“Guys, come on.” I’m not entirely unmoved by this, but it’s a bit much. “Let’s take it down a notch, shall we?” I roll my eyes at their blatant display of sentimentality. Besides, I can protect my own heart. I’m very good at it—too good, maybe.

“Don’t pretend this isn’t a huge deal, darling.” My mother looks at me. “If no one else is going to say it, I will. Because I’m your mother and it’s my job.”

“I’m fifty, Mom. I think I can take care of myself now.” I appreciate her intention, and I get that this is my mother’s way of dealing with this—that she has some posturing to do in front of Jamie—but it’s also reminding me too much of what happened. Of all the times I drove home to cry on her shoulder. Of all the things I said to her about my dreams being stolen as well as my heart being broken.

“If you want to be a mother, you will find a way,” my mother once said. “And if it doesn’t happen, you can, in the fullness of time, be at peace with that, too.” Her words have been a great comfort to me over the years. Because I clearly didn’t find a way to be a mother—and I blamed Jamie for that for a long time. But I’m sitting here with my own mother and Jamie, time not yet full—I’m only fifty—but strangely at peace nevertheless.

Chapter 32

Jamie

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