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My eyes roll of their own volition. I’m a single mother doing a piss-poor job at raising my daughter and keeping my company afloat. “Pretty bitter, actually.”
“Now, don’t give me that. You are smart and beautiful. And you sit thirty stories up in a Chicago skyscraper. Not to mention my sweet grandbaby. Things can’t be all that bad.”
Could she be that obtuse? While I tend to avoid personal problems, Charlotte’s in constant denial.
She thinks we’re the same, but we aren’t. One knows the issue exists, and even if they don’t want to talk about it, its havoc leaks into every other aspect of their life. And the other … just pretends it never happened. There’s nothing to see here, folks.
She tries. She really does. I know we’re both dysfunctional, but we were never very close. Not the way mothers and daughters should be.
Sometimes I wish we had a stronger bond, but because I couldn’t really rely on her for emotional support growing up, I have a hard time with it now. I don’t know how to approach our relationship, so I end up frustrated and snippy.
An abhorrent thought runs through my mind. What if Isabel feels the same way about me someday?
I take a deep breath and exhale my angst. Mom is right about one thing, though. Things aren’t that bad—now. I’m grateful to be able to give my baby a nice home, unlike the trailer I grew up in. And as of today, she has a nanny, so she won’t have to go to daycare every day. I know she’ll be much happier with one-on-one time with someone she can count on. Someone she knows will be there when she’s missing me.
Maybe if I had that as a kid, I wouldn’t be such a mess. But I will lose all of it if it comes down to putting innocent people out of work. Talent that took a chance on a new company because they believed in us and our vision. A vision that’s slowly fading.
As fast as it went, angst is restored to its rightful place—a knot in my chest.
“Was there something you needed?”
She sighs. “I need you. I was hoping I could come for a visit soon. I really miss you and Isabel. It’s hard having my girls so far away.”
Regret twists my insides. I have my reasons to stay away. “I don’t know, Charlotte. Work is pretty busy and I just hired a new nanny, so I’m trying to figure that out.”
“Listen, I know you’re dedicated to work and I admire you for it, but you and Isabel need family around.”
How ironic. I bite my tongue so hard I taste copper.
“Just tell me when, and I’ll be there. I can’t wait to have my girls with me again. We’re going to have so much fun!” she squeals in the receiver.
I pull the phone away from my ear. It’s just like her to sweep things under the rug.
“How’s Randy going to handle you away from him for more than five minutes?”
After I graduated high school, my mother met a nice guy and got married, and I inherited a thorn in the flesh—my step sister, Aubry. At first, I adored her, but it didn’t take long for her claws to emerge. It was awful. A foreshadow of the havoc the girl could wreak when feeling threatened. To be clear, I wasn’t menacing—my mere presence in her house was.
My mother remained neutral about it while I was in constant turmoil. Yet another example of when I needed her and she wasn’t there for me. As soon as I was able, I moved away from the little Podunk town in Indiana I grew up in.
“Oh, stop. You know Randy loves you like his own.”
Even though the man didn’t raise me, he tried to step in as a doting father. He’s always been good to me. That’s part of the problem—Aubry’s problem.
“He thinks it’s a brilliant idea. Besides, he’s hoping you’ll come for the holidays. We’d love to throw a big Christmas celebration for Isabel.” She giggles and it’s an abrasive sound, rubbing against me in the worst possible way.
She can’t be serious. She knows why I don’t go to her place for the holidays. It’s the elephant in the receiver that she refuses to acknowledge. Besides, Jay’s family has us every year, and Isabel loves going. I won’t let Charlotte guilt me into missing out on that because she’s having a maternal moment.
“That’s never going to happen, and you know why. As far as you visiting…” I shift some papers around to give my agitated hands something to do. “I’ll look at my schedule and get back to you.” Never, but I don’t need to get into an argument with her right now.
“I’m sorry, honey. You’re a mother, so you understand why I have to try.” Here she goes.
“Right.” A smart retort is on the verge of rolling off my tongue, but I count to ten in my head to keep my cool.
“Have you … talked to her?” Charlotte edges out, knowing I’m prone to shut down when my step-sister is directly mentioned.
“I can’t do this right now.” I cross my legs, admiring the point of my stilettos—sharp enough to stab someone in the chest. I don’t attack from the back like a coward. Like Aubry. “Guessing you haven’t either since you’re asking me.”
“I’m not making excuses for her, but how would you be if I abandoned you when you were little—”
