Page 87 of Boss Witch

Yeah, you have a point. And you were supposed to be the grown-­up when I was a kid, but I ended up hiding from your moods or being an emotional bolster, so sometimes families don’t work as intended.

It’s a bug, not a feature.

Mom cried for a bit longer. For reasons known only to Gram, she’d apparently picked up where they left off after Clem bolted, and to exacerbate matters, she invited D-­Pop and Pansy to rub salt in the wound. Clem comforted Allegra as best she could, offering whispered reassurances.

When Mom quieted, she dialed D-­Pop, who had gone back to sleep, unbothered by any comparisons with his predecessor. Clem loved his calm, but it also drove her crazy because it meant he often didn’t notice when Allegra was about to dissolve into a puddle of tears. He was great at mopping them up and appeasing her, not so awesome at heading off a mood. And really, he didn’t need to be. Allegra was responsible for her own emotions, but often she came running to lean on Clem in a flip of the parent-­child relationship.

Just once, I’d like to be able to rely on her or tell her about my problems.

But she’d never had any faith that Allegra wouldn’t break down crying over whatever issue Clem was facing and wind up needing reassurance the problem wasn’t because of her. Likely their dynamic had something to do with Mom’s relationship with Gram. Fact was, Allegra needed a lot of therapy, but so far, she’d resisted every nudge in that direction.

Hell, I probably could use some counseling too.

But whereas Mom refused to admit she had emotional issues, Clem had a hard time opening up to anyone, and that included a therapist. So far, she hadn’t brought herself to make an appointment, but she’d heard of people who did remote sessions, and that sounded more doable, better if she couldn’t see the person’s face.

“We have to deal with Gram,” Clem said then. “This has gone on too long. She’s fucking toxic, and she’s hurt everyone in the family. I don’t know what the solution is. We’ve all tried talking to her separately, so maybe we call a family meeting?”

“And say what?” Mom finally stopped crying completely, distracted by the suggestion. “‘Please stop being yourself, your personality is atrocious’?”

That was a surprisingly biting comment, so much that Clem burst out laughing. “I was thinking something more constructive, but that would be pretty funny.”

“I’ll call Minerva and see what she says. She’s calmer about these things. I wish I could just…not react. How do you grow a thicker skin, is there a spell for it?” Allegra gazed at Clem with wide, shiny eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” she said.

Goddess, she had such complicated emotions about saying that. On one hand, she meant it. Nobody should be shamed because they were sensitive or because their emotions were close to the surface. But at the same time, Clem wished Allegra’s sensitivity didn’t mean that she found it impossible to shield Clem or let her own daughter lean on her.

Is it too late to fix us?

With a sigh, she hugged her mom again. There was no denying that a thirty-­plus year pattern left her feeling like she needed to protect Allegra. Before long, D-­Pop showed up, wearing a sleepy, baffled smile and his usual rumpled T-­shirt and cargo shorts. Today he had on a Grateful Dead tee, and he came in without knocking; such was his concern for Allegra.

“You okay?” he asked first thing.

“Not really.”

“You should’ve woken me, hon. Why get a ride to cry on Clem’s shoulder when I was right there in bed?”

Because she didn’t want to make you feel bad.There was something sweet, if intrinsically messed up, about that.

“I don’t know,” Mom mumbled.

“Let’s get some breakfast, babe. I’ll buy you a big burrito.”

Clem laughed. “You know she won’t eat that. Too many carbs.”

Allegra popped to her feet, a determined look firming her chin. “Iwilleat it! I’m sick of hearing Mom’s voice in my head. I’ve spent twenty years avoiding bread, and Ilovebread.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Clem. “You know what, Mom? I think Gram is acting out because we’re all starting to live our own lives. Danica isn’t listening to her anymore, Auntie Min never did, and I’ve been fighting her for years. That makes you the softest target. When you give her the reaction she wants, she feels like she’s still in control of you at least.”

Allegra balled up her fist, looking like she might punch something. “That…makes too much sense. I’m so done!” She turned to D-­Pop. “Dougal, I want French toast. Let’s go to that all-­day breakfast place out past Mitchell.”

“Anything you want,” he said easily. “We’ll get out of your hair now. Thanks for looking after your mom.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

I’ve been doing it my whole freaking life.

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