Page 26 of Point of Contention
Getting the internship at Reed Romance had been too damn easy and set me up with false expectations. Unattainable expectations. Securing that internship acceptance made me feel special.
Hell,Cabotmade me feel special.
Like I had something to offer that the other candidates didn’t.
But I wasn’t special.
I wasn’t unique.
I was just another English nerd in the publishing capitol of the world with a degree and a dream.
Friday afternoon, I sat on the front porch, chewing my poor thumbnail to a bloody stump. My mom’s plane had landed about an hour ago; she’d be here any minute. I hadn’t seen her since I left Iowa when I was nineteen. It was an odd feeling being so nervous to see the woman who raised me, but the time and distance between us had made my childhood feel so far away, almost like a surreal part of my life that I’d imagined.
She’d left my dad six months ago, and though Greer had known, she’d kept this information from me.
I had mixed feelings about that, but I knew she’d done exactly what I’d asked her to do. And that was to never speak of my mother or father again unless one of them were dead or dying. Extreme? Probably. But I’d needed that distance to find myself, to prove to both of them—and to myself—that I wouldn’t repeat history.
I wouldn’t become my mother or marry my father, wouldn’t throw my life away for a man…
The thought turned my stomach.
I’d done exactly that.
In keeping my parents’ separation from me, Greer honored my wishes, but I had this sick feeling that she’d robbed me of those six months with my mom. Which was stupid. I knew that. My family dynamics would never in a million years be Greer’s fault. But it was a thought I had regardless and it left a sticky feeling of unease in my belly. I’d never tell Greer I felt this way; how could I? So once again, I felt like I was left alone to deal with my shit.
A yellow cab turned the corner onto my street and headed toward me. I stood so quickly my heart hit the floor, left on the stoop behind me as if I’d forgotten to grab it as I hurried down the steps to the curb.
The cab rolled to a stop in front of me and I held my breath.
The door opened, and the world slowed to a crawl.
My mom put one foot out. Then the other. Then she stood, and I broke at the sight of her.
Her face crumpled as she opened her arms. I couldn’t get into them fast enough.
Mom enveloped me in a fierce hug, holding me while sobs shook my frame and tears spilled onto her pastel floral dress. She looked so much like the woman I remembered, just a bit older. More tired. Her dark brown hair was streaked with gray that had multiplied since I’d seen her last, and more lines resided around her eyes.
What had he put her through over these past six years? What had I left her to endure on her own?
I pulled back to look at her and she cradled my face, then swiped at my tears and cradled my face again. Looking down at me through tears of her own, her eyes flicked all over my face at once. Then she wrapped me in her arms again and held me so tightly the air couldn’t move through my lungs, but I didn’t care.
Because my mom was here.
Right when I needed her most.
I didn’t deserve her.
I’d left her in her time of need and she’d shown up immediately in mine.
After a few moments, the cab driver cleared his throat. “I, uh, hate to interrupt, but…”
My mom laughed and pulled back, looking at me again as if trying to memorize every change in my face, each new freckle, any variation in skin texture, the shape of my brows… then she released me and turned toward the cabbie. “I’m sorry. How much do I owe you?”
As they settled the tab for the cab fare, I collected her suitcase and dragged it up the stairs to the front door, then turned and waited for her to join me.
She reached the top of the stairs and smiled down at me. “You look different, baby.”
Heat crept into my cheeks and I shrugged. It had been five years; gone was the baby fat and the big dumb eyes of someone who’d never taken a chance on themselves.
