Page 156 of Girls Will Be Girls
He doesn’t get that from me now.
I deserve more than that.
“Goodbye, Dad,” I say as the final blow before I turn around to head back into the restaurant.
A small part of me — the sad kid in me — thought maybe he’d call me back, try to argue, or even more delusionally, I thought maybe he’d see my side. Instead, I hear him hail down a cab, the door slamming behind him, officially shutting him out of my life.
I’m still not sorry.
I know I’ll feel sad about this tomorrow, maybe the next day, and the day after that, but I don’t feel sad now. I feel relieved.
As I rise up the stairs, feeling 200 pounds lighter, my mom appears on the top step. My guilt instantly crashes straight back on top of me.
“Mom,” I say, taken aback. “I thought you left.”
She wipes at her eye. “I needed a minute.”
“Okay.” I nod.
“Come on.” She gestures for me to follow her back down to the street.
We stand there, facing each other, both of us too scared to say the first word as another breeze sends a shiver down my spine.
“I’m not angry you changed careers.” My mom finally breaks the silence.
My mouth falls open before I’m able to stop it. “I- I-” I stutter, feeling blindsided, but in a good way. “You’re not?” I swallow.
“No.” She says.
I stare at her, unsure what this unknown territory is.
“I’m angry at myself that you felt the need to lie to me. That you hate or fear me so much that you’ve hidden your whole life from me.” She gestures at the restaurant, clearly meaning both my career and Lou.
The guilt rises back up even higher now, almost choking me. “Mom, it’s not what you think.” I start, feeling like I should come clean about Lou and us very much not being engaged.
“It’s fine.” She waves her hands at me. “I understand. I understand why you wouldn’t tell me any of it. I didn’t deserve to know.” She nods to the ground. “I’ve never been a very good mother.”
“No, Mom-” I begin protesting, but she takes my hand to cut me off.
“Louisa. You’re too nice for your own good.” She says, squeezing my hand. “I tried, but I wasn’t a good mom. I know that, and I know you want to argue with me, make me feel better about it, but it’s true.”
She takes in a deep inhale, a small tear dropping onto her cheek for just a moment before she wipes it away.
“You’re probably not supposed to tell your kids this.” She laughs sadly. “You’redefinitelynot supposed to, but I thinksome honesty might be good for us.” She squeezes my hand again. “I never wanted to be a mom.”
I rear back in surprise, not sure how I’m supposed to feel. My emotions pinballing around, unable to settle on one.
“I’m so sorry for telling you this.” She says, her voice breaking a little. “I’m also sorry for not telling you sooner.” She breathes in a deep watery inhale, then lets it go. “I always thought it wasn’t for me, that I wasn’t the right type of person to do it, but then I met your father. He was desperate for a family.”
I fail to hide my eye roll, and my mom gives me an apologetic look of“I know.”.
“I changed my mind for him.” She continues, taking my other hand in hers. “I don’t regret you or your brother. Not for one second do I wish things had gone differently because what happened gave meyou. I love you both so much it physically hurts me.”
A small blubber rises out of me.
“When your father left. When we found out about…” She trails off, both of us knowing the exact moment both of our lives blew up without needing to say it. “I began resenting you both the moment the man I loved, the man I changed my life for, up and left to find another family. Like the one I gave him wasn’t good enough.”
“Mom,” I say, unable to hold my tears back.
