Page 34 of Emma
Emma exhaled a long, slow breath. “Sure. Yeah.”
Jane carried three cups to the dining table with an elegance that didn’t quite match Emma’s memories of her. A teapot followed, along with milk and sugar in matching ceramic jars. Emma blinked, momentarily thrown by the domesticity of it all. A teapot? That was new. When she was growing up, tea came from a stained mug if you were lucky. And more often than not, the kettle was replaced by a saucepan of water left bubbling on the stove, half-forgotten while her mum emptied another bottle of red down her throat.
“Please, sit down,” Jane offered, as she waved a hand over the table.
Emma settled beside Vanessa, their legs brushing under the table. That simple contact anchored her in the moment. She watched Jane move around the kitchen, noticing how tidy the placeandthe person were. Emma knew that a part of her should have been glad to see her mum like this, but another, much bigger part resented her. Why now? Why after everything had been broken?
“How long have you been off the drink?” Emma asked, a brow lifted.
Jane poured the tea without spilling a drop. At one time, she couldn’t even pour a glass of wine without shaking it all over the place. “Just over three years.”
Emma passed Vanessa her tea with a smile before looking back at her mum. “And Dad?”
“I haven’t seen your dad in five years,” Jane said quietly, as though she didn’t wish to discuss him. “I believe he’s still the very same person, though. Based on the people I’ve spoken to over those years.”
Emma scoffed. “Well, I guess some things never change.”
The three of them sat with steaming cups between them, an awkward silence settling over the room. Then Jane lifted her gaze to Emma’s. “You’re here about Freya.”
Emma instantly stiffened. “So, Idohave a sister I didn’t know about?” She leaned back in her chair, her shoulders sagging. “You didn’t think that was important enough for you to share with me?”
Jane lowered her eyes. “What difference would it have made? You can’t stand the sight of me, Emma.”
“What difference?” Emma asked, incredulously. “Are youfucking serious? My little sister ended up in care, andyoudidn’t even tell me she existed!”
Jane didn’t flinch. She remained calm and composed, infuriating Emma further. “And if you’d known, what would you have done?”
What would she have done? Really? That’s where Jane was going with this? Emma straightened her shoulders and glared at her mum. “Taken her away fromyou. Raised her. Shown her what a stable family could be.” She lifted her hands, only to sink back in her seat, feeling defeated. Emma hadn’t even been given the opportunity to help Freya. “Jesus, Mum.”
“I wasn’t expecting any more children,” Jane explained. “Freya was an accident, shall we say? I wasn’t capable of looking after her when I couldn’t look after myself. Your dad was a waste of space, but that didn’t surprise me. He never could be bothered to take care of anyone but himself.”
“You’re one to talk!” Emma barked a laugh. “Do you care aboutanythingyou’ve done to your kids? Do you have an ounce of regret for the way I was raised, and then Freya? Do you even give a shit?”
“I care more than you think I do,” Jane said, her gaze pinning Emma to her seat. “And while I understand you’re angry, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak to me like that. I’m still your mum.”
Emma glared at her, stunned by the nerve her mum possessed these days. “You truly believe that? That you’re my mum?”
Vanessa’s hand slid gently onto Emma’s knee, applying just enough pressure to remind her she wasn’t alone.
“I was bullied in high school because of you,” Emma said, her voice rough as years of pain came flooding back. “The only meal I was guaranteed daily was when I was at school. I used todreadthe weekends because I knew I probably wouldn’t get much to eat…if anything at all. It was like a game most of the time. Who wins tonight…Emma or the vodka!” She glared at her mum. “And you have the fuckingaudacityto sit there and tell me you’re still my mum? Don’t make me laugh.”
Jane held up a hand. “I cannot change who I was in the past, Emma. I also cannot ask you to forgive me. But that’s not who I am anymore. And I don’t wish to remember those days. I’ve come too far in my recovery to dwell on the past.”
To dwell on the past. Emma’s jaw clenched as another wave of hurt crashed through her. Jane said that with so much ease that it felt as though the mistakes she’d made in the past were tiny. But they weren’t. They were huge, painful, and hard for Emma to think about. “You’ve been sober for three years, but you haven’t once tried to contact me.” Her throat tightened as old wounds reopened without warning. “I know you never wanted me. I know you never loved me. But to have anotherchild and not even tell me that I had a sibling…” She shook her head as a single tear slid down her cheek. “That hurts more than anything I went through growing up. I could have been there for her. I could have helped to raise her. You took that chance away from me, and I cannot for the life of me understand why.”
Jane sat quietly with her hands wrapped around her tea. “I made a lot of mistakes, Emma. I know that.”
Emma got to her feet, the chair scraping harshly against the floor as she did so. Her eyes locked onto Jane’s, but Emma found nothing behind them. No apology, no hope for a reconciliation, nothing. “And I think coming here today was a mistake.” She swallowed as she looked to Vanessa. “Ready, babe?”
Vanessa nodded without hesitation. “If you’re finished here, I’m ready.”
Without looking back, Emma crossed the kitchen. Each step she took carried the weight and pain of a broken childhood, but she felt Vanessa’s presence behind her, and she knew she was safe. She knew she was loved. She knew…happiness.
As Emma’s hand found the door, Jane’s voice broke through the silence. “Who told you about Freya?”
Emma stopped in her tracks, her shoulders tensing with ease. She’d always felt tense whenever she was with her mum. Even as a child, and that was quite sad in all honesty. No child should ever feel tense or stressed around the people who were supposed to love and care for them. She turned slowly and glared at Jane. “She did. I’m one of her teachers at high school.”
“O-oh.” Jane’s eyes widened as she pressed her back to the doorframe in the kitchen.
