Page 90

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s rip off the Band-Aid before the silent treatment gets too loud.”

Mom’s eyes widen. Yes, Mom, I’m a grown-up now and I have a voice. It’s terrifying and strange and utterly liberating.

“I’m sorry that you found out about Jax and me the way you did. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it myself and⁠—”

Mom sets down her fork full of cake, so loudly it clatters against the crockery. “Not that you walked out on that perfectly matched and accomplished man to have a fling with a sportsman, who is fooling around with other women?”

I recoil. “Is that what Carl told you?” I scoff. “God, he’s got a nerve. Mom, Carl cheated on me. He was sleeping with our secretary. I was forced out of our home and my own business by the man you think is perfect. Of course you think he’s perfect because that’s what I’ve convinced you of.” I don’t realize my words are true until they’ve left my mouth. I’m the reason Mom is smitten with Carl, or the idea of him and our life in the Big Apple that I’ve created for her.

“He cheated on you?” Dad clutches his fists on the table, while Mom is stone-faced.

I shake my head even as my cheeks flame with embarrassment. “Go ahead, Mom, ask me what I did so wrong that I couldn’t keep the dream man.”

She stares at me, unspeaking.

“I know that’s what you’re thinking, Mom. And honestly, I don’t know what I did so wrong. He wanted me to work hard. I was doing it. I was near single-handedly growing our business, travelling everywhere, trying to exercise and look great for him. I stopped doing anything and everything else I enjoyed so that I could focus on the business, on him, us, our team. I was so determined to be perfect. To please him, be liked by everyone, even people I don’t know, and make you both proud of me. I wanted to seem like I’ve got all my shit together all the time, but the truth is, I lost myself.”

My words hang in the air between us, shocking to me if not my parents. As if my brain has been keeping them captive and suddenly it pressed an emergency release button.

Dad pushes out his chair, which scrapes loudly along the tiled floor, and goes to stand by the sink, looking out at the tiny yard full of his homegrown vegetable pots.

“Sienna,” Mom says calmly, eyes on her saucer. “You have no idea what I’m thinking.”

“Then tell her,” Dad says with a temper that I’ve rarely seen on him.

Mom holds her head high and swallows, until eventually she reaches out and takes my hand. I’m so shocked I momentarily flinch but she tightens her hold, in a way that feels unexpectedly warm, rather than firm.

“I’ve only ever wanted what’s best for you. More than your dad and I ever had. We’ve had to work hard to have what little we’ve got in life and I wanted it all to come easier to you.” She exhales long and slow, then shakes her head. “I’m sorry for what Carl did to you. I apologize if I ever made you think you had to be perfect to please me.”

What? I don’t think my mom has shown remorse for twenty-nine years when it comes to me meeting her ideals.

In this new emotional wreck version of myself, my eyes well with tears, again. “I didn’t mean to get married without telling you, Mom. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have you walk me down the aisle, Dad. But Jax was there when I was low and I needed him and yeah, there was a hell of a lot of flaming sambucas involved… and a few costume changes.” I cringe, then chuckle at the thought. This one actually brings a smile to Mom’s face, and Dad’s, as he turns back to us.

“The video that you saw isn’t authentic,” I blurt. “I mean the wedding was genuine. I am married to Jax but it was really about him… saving me, because I can’t work with Carl anymore in our business.” I breathe a sigh of relief for having expunged the truth. “I didn’t know how to come back here and tell you both that I’ve failed. So, Jax did a pretty selfless thing in marrying me so that I could stay in New York while I figure out my next step. Though, ironically, I’m now temporarily working for his hockey team. I’m on a temporary visa for three months and when it ends in four and a half weeks, I’m not entirely sure what I’m supposed to do next.”

I fiddle needlessly with the old silver spoon on my saucer and shrug. “But I do know that I want to be in New York and that I still want to try and make something of myself, on my own. Jax agreed to stay married to me so that we could present our relationship as a legitimate one to the New York Dragons and salvage my professional reputation. In part, we did it to spare his reputation, too, but mostly, for my benefit.”

I smile, thinking of him; hearty laugh, panty-melting smile, the ferocity with which he loves his friends and family, his kindness with others, his insane ability as a hockey player, his unexpected moments of insight and wisdom. “He’s a pretty great guy, actually,” I say. “Disgusting, messy and hideously privileged. Sometimes wildly inappropriate. Often, actually. In fact, I’m sure you’d be repelled by him, Mom.” I shrug. “But I don’t try to please him, and I haven’t had the kind of fun that I do with him for so long.”

Mom doesn’t deny her preconceptions and inevitable disapproval but she doesn’t voice them. Just like I have never voiced how exhausting it has been trying to be an impeccable daughter to her. We’re all learning this new version of who I want to be. Baby steps.

“Is he American or Canadian?” Dad asks, and I know why.

I sniff back a chuckle. “American, Dad. Jax Harris. Team USA. New York born and bred.”

I’m sure my dad, die-hard hockey fan, already deducted this from the second he found out I was married to Jax Harris of the New York Dragons. But he’s doing what he has so often done between Mom and me: lightening the mood.

“You know, I’ll always be a Winnipeg fan,” he says. “I can’t suddenly switch to supporting the Dragons. And if Team USA are playing Team Canada, you know I’ve got my boys’ backs, right?”

I swipe my hand across my nose ungracefully, like a small child in a playground without a tissue. Which, ironically, is close to how I’m feeling.

“Yeah, I know that, Dad. Winnipeg and Canada. That’s one of the reasons you’d get along, I think. He’s got the same strength of loyalty you do. And he’s quick to see the best in people, likes to help people, even if he can’t see his kindness himself.” I raggedly drag in air. “None of that matters because we’re getting a divorce soon and then who knows what happens after that? I hope we’ll be friends but I’m not sure that I could watch him fall in love with someone who isn’t me.”

“You love him,” Mom says, emphatically, cooly but perhaps with a softened edge.

“Yeah, unfortunately, I really do.” I nod, smiling sadly, then shake my head. “He bought me a puppy. I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do with a puppy in the city? How do we coparent a puppy when we’re divorced? And why does the idea of it upset me? It was stupid. Immature and naïve. But…” I bite my lip, then look up to Mom. “I really, truly want to share a puppy with Jax and go for long walks, listening to him philosophize the crap out of everything and telling me to let my hair down in the wind, even when it is down.”

“Well, you know I’m not a man of many words and your mom will tell you I’m not the most romantic soul,” Dad says, coming to sit back at the table opposite me. “But can I offer a dollar of wisdom?”