Page 168 of Severed Rivalry
We both look to her feet. “Then we need pedicures. I have some things to tell you. We can do that while our feet are being pampered.”
Her shrewd eyes land on me.
I continue before the worry can form. “None of it is bad. Maybe it’s weird, but nothing like what you’re thinking. Just things you need to be informed of and things I want to hear your thoughts on.”
She shrinks with her exhale. “You sure?”
“I apologized for not telling you about my history. Frankly, I never wanted you to know. I never thought you’d ever, ever see how I grew up. It was a mistake. I promise I won’t keep anythinglike that from you ever again. Better, I don’t have anything more like that I could keep from you, so…”
“Okay. And everything’s okay?”
“You’re safe. We’re safe. Stuff can be weird, but not be worth worrying about. Now, I need to change, and we both need Boba, don’t you think?”
Her eyes go wide and light up. “For sure.” She slides off the sofa and heads for her room.
I head for the kitchen and scratch through the Freddie line on Cian’s to-do list and the one that says therapist. He’s also marked off “Mom.” I need to ask about that.
I circle the one that discusses teenage girls. And add one to the bottom of the list—Find Ruth. I don’t know how, but we have to. She was in our care.
Rosie and I didn’t discuss the girls today. She left them at her house while she, Freddie, Cian, and I all met at my house. How I failed to ask can only be testament to how out of my element I was. Out of my element in my own home.
A home I need to pack… That’s a tomorrow-me problem. Today-me is getting a pedicure.
Renée and I get our bubble tea and, during our pedis, I tell her about Cian asking about houses and schools. She perks up at the same time she wilts. Teenage girls are conundrums personified.
“I want your input. Let’s look at where you want to go, not just where you’ve always expected to go. The three of us will make the decision together.”
“But it’s my life.”
“Absolutely. It’s why you get a vote. At fourteen, I had run away from home and didn’t understand a lick of technology or the outside world. You know far more than I did, but I know the real world better now than you do. So I’m looking out. Got it?”
“But Mom.”
“We all get input. You have a take. So do I. Ci might know something neither of us does or have ideas we should listen to. He gets a vote. Not the final say.”
In her exasperation, she stamps her foot and water splashes everywhere.
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” she sputters at the tech who’s been working with her. “I’m sorry.” She covers her face with her hands and slinks down in the chair.
“I’m sorry,” I add, though fixing it is harder. It’s not the water on the floor, but the gross tub water that hit the tech in the face that’s the problem. Ick.
The woman rises and heads to the back.
“Née.” I wait for her to face me. “Teachable moment—” I start despite her groan. “Actions have consequences. We’ll tip her well, but that doesn’t mean that momentary frustration didn’t ruin her day. It absolutely sucks and I’m not making light of it. When you start driving, think of this day. That could kill in a car. It could brutalize if it were words to a classmate. Not getting your way is an annoyance, not a death sentence.”
“I know.” Her voice is petulant; her hang-gliding mood is gone.
Might as well rip off the Band-Aid and pile on the challenges. I explain Freddie and how RoRo has taken him under her wing like she did me, that she’s asked about me renting the house to him, that he seems a familiar spirit to our ragtag family dynamic.
“Will he be at family dinners?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” I answer her question with a question of my own. “I’d say no, but who knows. RoRo has only done this once before, and it’s how we became family.”
“Too much is changing.”
“A lot is changing. Some of that got you hang gliding today with Ayla. Change is inevitable. And it’s not all bad.”
“I want to stay at my old school to finish out middle school.”
