Page 71 of When Cardinals Appear

“I don’t know that either,” I began. Perhaps if I gave Dr. Brooks something to work with, she could steer me in the right direction. “I thought I wanted to go to California. I thought I wanted to marry James and teach at a special school.” I stopped and took a deep breath. “But after everything I’ve learned about my mother, I don’t know where she ends and I begin.”

“That’s understandable.”

I glanced at her, hoping she would say more. When she didn’t, I ground my teeth and glared at the floor. What was the point of coming for a session if she wasn’t going to help me?

“What do you think I should do?” I asked, figuring it couldn’t hurt. The worst she might do was give me some psychobabble about how I needed to determine what I wanted for myself and that no one could do it for me. That wouldn’t be helpful, but at least I would know that I was on my own.

“Follow your heart.”

That caught my attention, and my head shot up. In some ways, it was worse than psychobabble. At least if she’d given me some line about how I was the only one who could figure out what I wanted, she might have assigned some homework to guide me in that process. But her response was so vague. And I doubted she had any worksheets that would aid me in something as intangible as following my heart.

“But how will I know that I’m doing that if I’m so entwined with what my mother wanted for me?”

She was silent, and I shifted under her scrutiny. Then she smiled. “Let’s try an exercise.”

That sounded more promising than her vague responses so far. I sat up straighter and gestured for her to continue.

“We’re going to play a word-association game. When I say a word, I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind. Some of your answers may be skewed due to your mother’s influence, but don’t worry about that. That’s something we can examine later once we have an overall picture.”

I wasn’t sure I liked that game anymore, but I was willing to try anything. “Okay, let’s give it a go.”

“Your first word is ‘lurk.’”

“Stalker,” I blurted out and frowned.

She shook her head. “Don’t overthink it. There are no right or wrong answers here.” Glancing down at her paper, she continued. “Piper.”

“Pied.”

After making a note on her clipboard, she read the next one. “Face.”

“Consequences.” My mouth dropped open. Where did that come from?

A sly smile slipped through her professional mask. “We’re getting somewhere now. ‘Home.’”

“Cedar Haven.” I swallowed and closed my eyes, wishing I could go back in time and decide not to play the game. I didn’t like where we were heading.

“Good. How about…”

I opened my eyes and found her staring at me with interest.

“Love.”

“Nate.” Tears filled my eyes, and I covered my face with my hands.

“I think you have your answer,” she said quietly.

I did. Despite my mother’s influence, despite her dreams for me, even in spite of what I’d recently learned about her, what I wanted, what the real me wanted, was to come home. Protests bubbled up inside of me, desperate to claw their way out of my mouth, but I clamped my lips shut. Those were words that echoed in my head, my mother’s voice distorted to sound like my own. The words I’d spoken without conscious thought—those came from my heart.

“I have one last word for you, but I’m not sure if it’s necessary.”

I shrugged as I wiped my eyes. My emotions were already chaotic enough. “Lay it on me.”

She grimaced. “Mother.”

“Human,” I choked out as tears slid down my cheeks. And I knew in that moment that I’d forgiven her. I forgave her for breaking up Nate and me in the first place, for not telling me about her involvement before she died, for making Nate keep that awful promise, and for so many other things that I couldn’t voice. As she’d said in her letter, she’d made mistakes, but at the end of the day, she was human. And humans were imperfect creatures.

“My one regret,” I said when I had better control of myself, “is that I never got to tell her in person that I forgave her.”

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