Page 125 of Meet Me in the Valley
The complimentary chips and salsa sit untouched between us, growing stale with each beat of awkward silence. When the server arrives to take our order, we both respond like we’re on autopilot, rehearsing normalcy, going through the motions.
Even though I should eat something solid—considering the only thing I’ve had today is some cereal before work—I settle for a lame taco salad.
My stomach’s tied in too many knots to handle much else. Oddly enough, the Coke is helping. The bubbles offer a brief distraction from the churning in my gut.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she says softly. “It seems I don’t know how to talk to you anymore. You were just so angry?—”
“Am,” I cut in, keeping my voice steady. “Iamstill angry.”
My mother blinks at me, unmoving. I watch her swallow, licking her lips like they’ve gone dry. She looks so defeated. I can see where she tried to cover her dark circles, her makeup there creasing.
There are more wrinkles than I remember, though I can’t tell if that’s new or if I’m just seeing her clearly for the first time in years. The glow and warmth she used to carry that used to light up a room like the sun is gone. I wonder if she’s still smoking. It’s aged her, even though she’s not old by any means.
As I take in my mother’s features, a sudden onslaught of questions slam into my mind like a battering ram.
Is she taking care of herself? Does she get enough sleep at night? Does she regret everything?
I sit with these new feelings. Without analyzing too much, I can accept that it’s a flicker of empathy I’m developing. It’s not a lot, but it’s there just enough to make me aware.
She lets out a slow breath and reaches for her water, downing nearly half the glass in one go.
“That’s fair. I wasn’t expecting anything less. I deserve that.”
Yeah, you do.
“Well,” I sigh, “ I’m not here to yell at you or anything. Figured I got all of that out the last time we saw each other.”
The smile she gives is sheepish, almost as if she cowers in her seat. The goal of today isn’t to lash out like a petulant child. I had my fill of that already. I knew going into this conversation that acting out would get me nowhere. No matter how badly Iwant her to hurt, where does that get me in the end? I know something for certain.
It doesn’t bring me any closer to calming the storm that’s been brewing inside of me this entire time. It doesn’t bring me closer to peace—to Tia.
“Something you said has been haunting me for weeks.” Her hands tremble as she speaks. “And I know you might not believe me—or think anything I say holds any truth—but I need to explain something to you, Logan.”
Our food arrives, and it takes everything in me not to shove the plate aside and leave it untouched.
Across the table, my mother doesn’t reach for her fork either. I’ve got a strong feeling we’re both thinking the same thing.
She knows I’d rather be anywhere but here. And yet, I pulled out the chair. I sat down. I made the conscious choice to show up.
Because I knew this was a necessary step toward acceptance. Doesn’t mean it’s easy.
It’s fucking hard.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
She picks up her fork, then puts it back down. Her fingers skitter across the table, touching random things. She folds and unfolds her napkin countless times until, finally, her eyes meet mine.
Apprehension carves itself across her face, deepening the tired lines around her eyes and mouth.
“I want you to know—” she swallows, “that I didn’t choose another child over you.”
My body freezes. A heavy gallop begins in my chest, hammering away. It pulses in my temples, behind my eyes, in the curve of my jaw as I lock it tight.
“I don’t regret being in Nora’s life. I love her and Cali, but not as much as I loveyou, Logan.”
Ever since the day she walked out, I never understood it. Question after question haunted my mind for months.
Was it the affair? Did my dad do something wrong? Did I?
