Page 82 of Anatomy of a Meet Cute
“Well, pick a few then.” The phrase was blithe, but Diana looked stricken.
“Here’s a great example. Remember when I was six and you desperately wanted me to be a girlie girl? Lace dresses, the whole nine.”
“You were darling.” Diana nodded and smiled fondly down at her drink.
“I was.” Sam shook her head. The memory didn’t have the same fond ring for her. “But I also had a big brother, and I loved playing in the dirt. You would get so worked up about me tearing my stockings and destroying a dress every week. I asked to wear jeans, but you said no. Do you know what I did instead?”
The smile on Diana’s face fell slightly as she remembered what came next. “You started wearing camisoles and leggings under your dresses to school.”
“The dresses went in my cubby. I didn’t wear them at school. I’d have Isaiah or a friend help me in and out of them. You wouldn’t let me be me, and I didn’t want to let you down, so I lied.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“I know. Dad figured it out. He was in charge of laundry, and there was always sand in my leggings. When he asked why my pants were dirty but not my dress, I told him the wind did it.” Sam chuckled at the memory of her father eyeing her with his most stern Naval Dad Look. Inside, he was probably cracking up.
“Your father would find that kind of thing funny.” One corner of her mother’s mouth lifted ever so slightly at baby Sam’s attempted trickery. “I wish he would have told me, though. I would have softened if I knew.”
“Would you have heard him if he did?” Sam meant the question to be gentle, but it still made her mother flinch. Diana took another sip of her wine, so Sam hurried to make her point. “Anyway, that is sortof like what happened with the party. I didn’t have time, but you were so angry with me for leaving Ohio, and the party seemed like a way to make you happy. I knew my arm was being twisted, but this also felt like a way to prove myself as a daughter. With each added element for your party, I tried to slow you down. But when I couldn’t, I tried to rush or cut corners to fit my time constraints. Hence the invitation mix-up.”
Diana looked down at her lap, and Sam used it as an opportunity to sip her wine, just in case her mother wanted to argue. “I just wanted a baby girl. Your father and I were married so young, and Isaiah and your dad were such cookie-cutter father-son types, baseball in the yard and the whole bit, you know?” Her mother looked up then, and Sam nodded along cautiously, unsure of where Diana was going. “Anyway, after years of being by myself, we finally had you, and I thought,This is my chance. I’m gonna have a friend too. She’ll like art and dolls and piano, and we’ll be thick as thieves.But that just wasn’t who you are.”
Sam hadn’t really thought about how lonely her mother must have been when she was young. It was true that Isaiah was basically a mini version of their father: good natured and nonconfrontational unless you cornered him. It must have been hard to feel so isolated even in her own home.
“I guess I still hope that. A small corner of me thought that if I manufactured enough pressure, you’d see things my way and stick around,” Diana said, her voice weak, as if admitting that took something out of her that she hadn’t wanted to give.
“But I need to be my own person.” Sam tentatively reached out to squeeze her mother’s hand. Her sadness washed over her, and Sam felt her heart soften. It didn’t make the way she’d treated Sam okay, but the context was helpful for healing her heart.
“You do. And I should’ve known. Isaiah did everything your father did. But you did the opposite of the things I wanted. The only thing you got from me was my hardheadedness.” Diana laughed wistfully and looked back out the window as a seagull perched on the top of aparking garage outside. “Even at six, you were going to find a way to make something happen. Even if it meant being sweaty in two layers of clothes. If anything, I’m not disappointed in you. I am disappointed in myself, and I let you feel that. I was never going to be your idol, no matter how hard I pushed for you to engage.”
Suddenly, Sam understood. Diana just wanted to be seen, much like Sam wanted her mother to see her now. With tears welling, her mother looked at her square in the eyes as if that alone could convey three decades’ worth of apologies—and in a way, it did.
“The good news is I don’t need an idol, and I don’t want to be a clone. But I do want a mom, and I want to be a daughter. Luckily, I think the mom I have is very impressive, even when she is far away.” Sam’s throat felt thick with emotion.
“You don’t have to say that.” Diana sniffed and ran a finger under her eye to try to stave off tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you. That was never the kind of relationship I wanted for us.”
“I’m sorry for letting my frustration build up for so long,” Sam said, her own eyes starting to water as her mother smiled. Laughing, she added, “And that my playing the piano meant that much to you. Had I known, I wouldn’t have switched to playing basketball seven nights a week.”
“You weren’t very good at the piano, so it was for the best,” Diana laughed. After a moment, she reached her hand out and grabbed Sam’s. “I guess what I want to say is that I’ve tried very hard for a very long time to make you into the kind of daughter-friend I wanted, not the kind of daughter-friend I had.”
“Maybe now that this is out in the open, we could work toward that instead? Because I think we could be friends. Especially if you still have updates on the neighbors’ cats and like ice cream.”
“I’d like to try that. The friendship part. Not all those weird flavors you eat.” Sam wrinkled her nose at the minor criticism, and Dianajumped in to add, “But I can ignore what you choose and get an orange sorbet.”
“We could start by you coming to my program launch Saturday morning. Maybe you could meet my friends? If you aren’t too busy prepping for your party.” Sam laughed at her mom’s kind-of recovery. Baby steps.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Diana smiled, then added, “And don’t worry about the catering for the event. Your Aunt Marilyn can live with cheese cubes.”
Sam laughed as the bits of tension in her heart shook loose. She knew that her mother wasn’t going to become less controlling overnight. But now they had a foundation for an honest relationship that they could build on. Really, that was all Sam needed for today. The rest would come later.
Sighing, she turned her attention back to her mom and said, “Funny thing about the cheese cubes. Turns out I have a solution for you. And I gotta tell ya, I’m so glad we talked this out, because boy, do I have a whopper of a story to go along with your new caterer.”
“Oh, really. Well, now I’m dying to know how this came about.” Diana’s face sparkled as she lit up with curiosity. “Let me order another carafe. I have a feeling catching up will take some time.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sam looked around the birthing center as it started to come alive with guests. The desks and filing cabinets had all been pushed to the edges of the room to make space for folding chairs. Anjo’s film crew was roving around the room, getting footage of community members smiling and chatting with each other or the physicians. Duesa even seemed to have her own photographer following her around, with Sherilynn behind them pointing out other shots she would like the crew to take. Duke had a shift, so she hadn’t had a chance to ask him for the details; however, his text had said that they would talk and that everything was worked out, so she guessed his charm must have bought them an extension on the report. Sam was just considering how she could say hello to Duesa and hide from the camera when she spotted her family coming down the hallway.
“I gotta tell you, Sam, this is incredible.” Isaiah spread his arms wide as soon as he walked into the birthing center, smiling at the photos of families they had propped up on easels around the room. Behind him, her mother and father were grinning as if they had won the lotto.
