Page 107 of Beautiful Broken Love

I didn’t know what she was looking for but I wasn’t in the mood to have her read me right now, so I said, “I can ride with you to pick Abe up if you want.”

“He’ll love that, Vina.” She took a sip of lemonade. “So how are you lately? I mean after the last few months ...”

“You know you can just say it,” I told her.

“I know, but I don’t want to be insensitive.”

“I’m okay, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s good.”

I took a look around the kitchen, before my eyes ventured to the living room. This house had changed so much in the last decade. When Octavia and I were younger, this place was sparse and lacked many of the decorations it had now. But back then all Mama cared about was going out with her friends or staying the night with one of her flings.

It was a surprise knowing all it took for her to get her act together was birthing a son.

When Daddy died, I was the one taking care of Octavia and making her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and pouring her milk after school. And during the first year of Abe’s life, I had to secure a part-time job just so Mama could have enough money for formula and diapers.

Whenever I wasn’t working, I’d be watching after him and Octavia while our mother slept or worked part time at a retail store. I was forced to mature, and to this day I don’t feel like I had much of a childhood.

Maybe that’s part of the reason why I’m so fucked up inside.

I shifted my gaze to Mama’s, but she was already looking at me. “You look troubled, Vina,” she said. “What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

I debated whether to speak on the issue that’d been bothering me for years now. I didn’t want to come across as bitter for how I felt.

And don’t get me wrong, Abe deserved the world. I loved that kid from the moment I laid eyes on him, but I became angry sometimes when I thought about how simple it was for him and how hard it was for me and Octavia.

I moved my spoon around in my soup, pushing one of the chickpeas toward the edge of the bowl. “Do you think I’d be different if I was raised like Abe was?”

Mama sat up straight, her rosy lips parting. She stared at me a moment before lowering her gaze with a defeated sigh. “Davina ... I know what this is about.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were young, I wasn’t there like I should’ve been.”

I swallowed thickly and placed my spoon on a napkin, bumping my bowl away.

“I wasn’t a good parent to you. You relied on me, and I wasn’t there half the time. You ... you lost your daddy at such a young age, and I could tell it really affected you. And you were always so sweet and kind and understanding about everything I did. Always looking after your sister, making sure she was fed and bathed and—” Mama gasped and pressed her hands to her chest. “I’ve thought long and hard about this moment, you know? How I would bring it up to you—how I would apologize for everything. I’ve been waiting for you to confront me because bringing it up myself never felt right. I was a terrible mother, and I know it. And this is no excuse, but I simply wasn’t ready for the role back then.”

I nodded, combating tears.

“But let me be clear when I tell you that your resilience and your shine cannot be replaced,” she said. “No matter how you grew up, or if the tables had been turned, you would still be the Davina you are now, and Ilovethat about you.” Her voice broke during the last sentence, and I tucked my hands between my thighs. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to pull myself together. I’m so sorry if my actions have damaged you in any way or made you feel like you don’t deserve to be cared about or loved. I love you from the depths of my heart, and you should know that I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere, and if it’s not too late for you, I want to keep being here for you, baby. You, your sister, and your brother are my world. Nothing will ever come before my babies again.”

At this point, Mama had become a blur. A part of me figured maybe I was being too emotional about this, but the rational part of me knew I had a lot to be emotional about.

I wasn’t sure what’d come over me. I thought I’d done all my crying at the damn lake house, but it turns out I had a lot more pent up inside me. So at my Mama’s dining table I cried, and didn’t realize I was crying until she curled her arms around me and held me close.

As she did, all I could think was that the last few months I’d spent with Lew were just like it had been when I was a child.

Inconsistent.

Lonely.

That feeling of abandonment, even though he had no control over his situation.

I’d been in complete survival mode, trying to take care of everything and make all the ends meet just so the people around me would be okay.

But what about me? What if I’m not okay?

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