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“Wow, you look busy. I didn’t think you’d be working so early.” She gives me a tentative smile, then closes the door behind her.
“There’s a lot to go through.”
“I can see that. I just wanted to check on you. Are you okay?”
“I'm fine.” I nod.
“Didn’t you want breakfast?”
“I grabbed some coffee earlier.” That was several hours ago, before the sun came up, so it might not count.
Mom moves closer and sits cross-legged opposite me. Watching her like this I have the distinct memory of being a kid and us sitting just like this while she read me my favorite books.
“Autumn, it’s been a few days now since the argument. I felt I needed to speak to you.”
“Why? You and Dad said quite a lot that night.”
“We did, but it didn’t go well. You have to understand that your father and I are just doing our best.”
“Controlling me isn't what’s best. I understand that you care, but you can’t sit there and tell me that Dad hasn’t blown things way out of proportion.”
I respect her for not trying to disagree with me. Her silence actually calms me because it means that she agrees.
“I’ve felt that I needed to take a step back and allow your father to be your father.”
“Why, Mom? You know what he’s like. I know he loves me but what he’s doing is unfair.”
She pauses for a moment to think. “I blame myself for some of the things that have happened to you. When you think about it, everything that’s happened to you is an indirect result of something I helped you do.”
My heart softens as I realize what she means. “No, Mom, that’s not true.”
“But it is. I adore all your achievements as a journalist, but if I hadn't encouraged you to follow that path you wouldn't have been in that accident. When you wanted to stay in L. A. afterward, if I hadn’t encouraged your father to let you, you wouldn’t have needed rehab. It’s the same thing with this recent problem.”
I shake my head. “Mom, no.”
“Yes. We knew how much your job meant to you, so when Dr. Francis recommended doing everything we could to keep you happy and not take you away from something that offered stability, I encouraged it. But it meant we weren’t there for you as much as we should have been.”
“You were there for me enough. You both were.” My parents came back to L.A. as often as they could. After the accident they hardly left me. For over two months no week would go by when I didn’t see them. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes just Mom. Sometimes they stayed for the whole week and that was okay for me. God, as horrid as Charlotte is, even she visited a couple of times.
“My problem was never support.” I stare at my mother, my gaze firm and unwavering, determined for her to understandme. “It was the horror of what happened. I watched Jennifer die and there was nothing I could do to save her. I couldn’t even save myself.”
Mom places a hand over her heart as her eyes turn glassy, as if she might cry. “I understand, and I know I shouldn’t blame myself but I’m your mother, so I will. I know your father might blame me, too.”
My heart beats a little faster at the thought of Dad blaming her. “Has he said that?”
“He would never, but I know he thinks it. It’s not hard for me to figure him out when it comes to anything like that. I would hate for something worse to happen to you and hear him say the words, blaming me.”
“Nothing bad is going to happen to me.” That’s what they think. That I’m just going to snap and go crazy, then overdose on drugs or worse.
“We don’t know that.”
“I’m telling you it won’t and I really want you to listen to me. What I need is time to heal.”
She nods, seeming to understand. “Okay. I hear you, but please allow me to be there for you. Don’t shut me out if it looks like I can’t fight for the things you want.”
Translation—she won’t be able to fight my father’s decisions even if she wants to.
“I would never shut you out, Mom.”
