Page 93 of Home for the Holidays

“Touché.”

“Yeah.” Iris took a big gulp of her quickly cooling coffee. She was hoping it would still be hot enough to scald her mouth so she had something to focus on other than this uncomfortable conversation.

“Iris, she’s lovely. I’m not asking in order to protest this.”

“You—you’re not?”

“Not at all.” Mary locked eyes with Iris for a moment before she stared out the kitchen windows to the street. “You’ve been your own person for as long as I can remember. I’ll be honest, honey. You became someone I didn’tthinkI wanted to know.” She looked at Iris again. “But I was so stupid to not realize that sooner.”

“Mom…”

“You are a phenomenal woman. The way you help the LGBTQ+ younglings. And you have a great life surrounded by people who accept youandrespect you. I figure I should probably be at the top of that list.”

“Which list?”

“Of people who accept youandrespect you. Because I do.AndI love you. Which should automatically catapult me to the top, don’t you think?”

Her smile was dazzling. She had taken immaculate care of herself ever since Iris was a kid. She watched everything she put in her mouth, ran three miles a day on top of the thirty thousand steps she’d get some days as a nurse, and moisturized her skin every single day and night. Young Iris used to want to look exactly like her: dark hair, blue eyes, flawless skin. Then one day not that long ago she had looked in the mirror and her mother was staring back. She remembered cringing. If she was going to look like her, was she eventually going to act like her too? But as they sat together and talked, and her mom’s face softening instead of hardening under the weight of acceptance and love, she thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to resemble the woman who had given her life.

Iris took a deep breath. “May I say something?”

“Of course.”

“Zac was so nervous to come out to his family this weekend, and I kept pushing and pushing him. Not good of me, but”—she chuckled—“he brought me here as his girlfriend, hoping to throw them off his scent. And I needed that awkwardness to stop.”

“Zac wasn’t out? And they didn’t know?” Mary’s shock was adorable. “And they didn’t know you were a lesbian? How’d you hide that?”

“I hid my flannels and Doc Martens, Mom. Duh.” She laughed, and so did Mary. “I know, crazy, right? But I pushed him because I knew it was going to help him heal.” Iris paused and fixed her nervous gaze onto her coffee, onto the creamy color and the fact that she wanted more but was too deep into this conversation to stand up and leave. “I thought him coming out would fix his relationship with his mom even though I know me coming out to you ruined our relationship.”

“Iris—”

“No, let me finish.” She held back the tears that were begging to come out, like wild dogs straining at their leashes. Releasing them now could go either way, good or bad, but holding them in was the only thing she had control over. “I’m not perfect. God, I’m far from it. But, Mom, you’re not perfect either. I have spent so much time wondering why I’m so afraid to get close to people, why I run from relationships, why I’m so against falling in love. Not just with someone else, but with myself. I am enough, Mom. I am a good person with a great heart and so much love to give. I deserve more than your acceptance and respect. You say you love me, which is great, and I believe that, but I want you tolikeme. I want you to see the real me and feel proud of the person I turned out to be. Because I am fucking awesome.” Iris finally looked across the table at her mom, who had clearly not been able to hold back her wild, barking dogs and was crying like a baby. “I’m sorry for being so honest with you.”

“Iris, stop,” Mary said through tears. “Do not ever apologize for being honest with me. My god.” She wiped at her tears with a Kleenex she pulled from the pocket of her pajamas. Iris wanted to chuckle because of course she had a tissue tucked away somewhere. She always did. “I’m the one who is sorry. Sorry for how I’ve handled all of this. For how I handled you and your sexuality. You know when you came out to me and I shunned you, it wasn’t you I was upset with. I was mad at myself. Mad that I didn’t see it. Mad that I raised you and had no idea, no clue that you were different. Different is not bad, my dear. It never has been, and it never should be. If we were all the same, it would be a very boring world.”

“You said I was going to hell.”

Mary laughed. “Oh, honey.”

“I don’t even believe in hell.”

“At this point, I don’t either. I am so sorry. I was a horrible lady then. I am trying. I am working on myself. I think…” She casually traced the rim of her Easy Bake Café mug with her forefinger. “I made you hate yourself because I hated myself.”

Iris felt what she said in the pit of her stomach. Was this the moment? Was this theholy shitmoment for her mom?

“You know, being one of ten kids was not easy. Would have been twelve if your grandmother’s last two pregnancies had stuck.” She shook her head, a deflated expression on her face. “I worked so hard to escape that life. I didn’t want to end up like my parents. I wanted to love my children no matter what. And I screwed that one up, didn’t I?” She let out a puff of air. “I’m working on it, Iris. I promise. I don’t want to lose you because of the hatred I have for myself. Because believe me, not only do I love you, but I like you. I think you’re a tremendous woman. You’re beautiful and kind and intelligent and everything Iwantedyou to be.Thoseare things that matter. I didn’twantyou to be straight or rich. I just wanted to give you every advantage I had to claw tooth and nail for. And I will always want you to behappy. Do you hear me?” She was clutching her used Kleenex in her right hand, her left clenched into a fist on the tabletop. “I’m sorry I ever made you think and feel otherwise.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Iris whispered. She was getting everything she had needed for so long. “For the record, you weren’t a bad mom.”

Mary chuckled through her tears, then blew her nose in a new Kleenex, also pulled from her pocket. She wiped at her nose carefully before she shrugged. “I mean, I was okay, right?”

“You were, yes.” Iris smiled. “You gave me the advantages you wanted me to have. Come on, I went to NYU. I live in New York City. I have an apartment and a fantastic practice with Stacey. There’s nothing about my life that I want to change. Except this. You and me.”

“Then let’s fix it. I’m in therapy now, you know?”

“What? You are?”

“I am.” Mary tapped her hand on the tabletop. “Figured it was time.”

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