Page 171 of Boss of Me
I say nothing, pulling my hand from her grip and turning away. Her face crumples.
“I don’t hate you or your brother,” she tearfully insists. “I could never hate my own flesh and blood. I was miserable with your father, but I never meant to take out my frustrations on you and Maverick. I never meant to hurt you?—”
“But you did.” My voice is hard. Cold. “I may not agree with Maverick’s timing, but every word he said was true. I’m tired of pretending you weren’t a shitty mother. You were manipulative and self-absorbed and cruel. There were many days we both wished to God we’d been born to someone else. Anyone but you.”
She sucks in a breath, fresh tears spilling from her eyes.
I don’t want to pile on, but I need to get some things off my chest. Now that Maverick got the ball rolling, I might as well say my peace.
Mom twists the sodden handkerchief in her lap. “I don’t want to make excuses?—”
“Then don’t.”
She stares at me with red-rimmed baby blues. “Your father put me through hell. I was wildly in love with him, and he turned that love into pure hatred. I know it’s not fair, but every time I looked at you and your brother, all I saw was Dale. It didn’t help that you both look so much like him,” she mumbles resentfully.“It was hard not to feel like God was punishing me for not heeding my parents’ warnings.”
“So you punished us in retaliation,” I say bitterly.
She doesn’t deny it.
I just shake my head, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees and my hands clasped.
“Thank you for not telling anyone about my fling with Harlan.” Her fingers tighten around the handkerchief. “If I had known what a vindictive little shit he was?—”
“But that’s the thing, Mom,” I growl impatiently. “Youshouldhave known. Harlan went out of his way to make trouble for me and Mav. If you’d paid the slightest fucking bit of attention to us, you would’ve steered clear of that lowlife bastard.”
“You’re right. I was foolish. Willfully foolish. And it backfired spectacularly.” She pauses, twisting the handkerchief into a tight knot. “Thank you for . . . handling the situation.”
“I don’t want your thanks,” I grumble. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”
“I’m glad Maverick told me. It was humiliating to hear, but I needed to know what you did for me.” She reaches over to touch my arm. “I don’t want you or your brother to hate me. What can I do to earn your forgiveness?”
I don’t respond. I have no answers for her, not right now.
“I’ll go to therapy,” she promises. “I probably should’ve started seeing someone a long time ago, but I was too proud and stubborn, too embarrassed to admit my life wasn’t perfect.”
I’m quiet, staring down at my work-roughened hands.
“I’ll make an appointment first thing Monday.” She hesitates before adding quietly, “Maybe you and Maverick could join me sometime. Working through our issues together, as a family, might help the healing process.”
I squeeze my eyes closed for a moment. Then I swallow hard and nod. “I can’t speak for Maverick. But . . . I’ll keep an open mind.”
“Thank you, baby,” she whispers gratefully.
I nod tightly. She’s never called me baby before. I’m struggling to absorb it.
“I should have been kinder to Marlowe. You’ve been miserable since the breakup, I see that now.” She squeezes my hand, all guilty empathy. “If there’s anything I can do?—”
“There isn’t.” I get up and walk to the railing, keeping my back to her. “It’s been a long day, and we both have a lot to digest. If it’s all the same to you . . .” I trail off pointedly.
She catches my meaning. “Of course. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” She rises to her feet and takes a step toward me, then thinks better of it.
I wait for her to speak, every nerve tense.
“You may find this hard to believe,” she says softly, “but I want you and Maverick to be happy.Trulyhappy. A fairytale ending was never in the cards for your father and me. But Marlowe is clearly the one you’re meant to be with, and I hope you can get her back . . . before it’s too late.”
I say nothing, working hard not to grind my teeth.
Mom slips quietly away, leaving me to grapple with the harsh reality of spending the rest of my life without the love of my life.
