“Anne Marie?” Susan says, her voice unsure.
Rowan spins fast and pins her mother with stormy, gray eyes. “It’s Rowan.”
Susan releases Peter’s hand and takes a tentative step toward her daughter. “I can’t believe you’re alive. I had hoped for so long... but then they told us you were probably gone... dead.”
Tears are streaming down Susan’s face and Peter steps up to put a hand on her shoulder.
“Why did you look for me?”
Susan is startled by the venom in Rowan’s voice. “Why wouldn’t I look for you? You’re my daughter.”
“But you did nothing,” Rowan says with deadly calm. “You stood by while my father told me to leave and never come back. You ignored me for years. So I ask again... why would you look for me? Surely you were better off without me.”
“Never,” Susan says vehemently. “You were the one good thing I made with my life. I was just too weak to see it. I was too weak to stand up to your father. And that is all on me. It’s not on him, and it’s not on you. It’s my failing. I failed you because a mother should always protect her child.”
My heart breaks for both women. Rowan stands there, so clearly wanting to believe she was actually loved by her mom. Susan is seeking absolution, a little something I know about personally.
“I’m so sorry, Rowan. For all the pain I caused you. I know I have no right to ask, but I need your forgiveness. Flynn told me how strong you are... despite what we did to you. I need your strength now. I need you to be strong enough to forgive me.”
Rowan sneaks a glance at me, tears glistening in her eyes. I don’t give her any indication of what I think she should do, because this is her decision alone. I hope to God she forgives her mother, because then maybe she can let go of the past.
But then she turns her back on all of us, crossing her arms across her chest. I see her shoulders are shaking and I die inside for her.
Susan puts her hand over her mouth to stifle a sob and Peter takes her arm. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s go.”
They both turn to the door but when it opens, Rowan blurts out, “Don’t go.”
Susan turns around, hope filling her eyes.
“Please stay,” Rowan says on the heels of a deep breath. “Let’s come into the kitchen and talk. I’ll make some coffee.”
Rowan walks past me into the kitchen, giving me a look that’s unreadable. Susan and Peter follow her in. I hear Susan say, “You know... we have a Bernese Mountain Dog, too.”
I’m relieved that Rowan will give her a chance to talk. I hope that something good will come of all of this.
Turning away, I walk out of the apartment. I have to be on shift in a few hours.
31
I wake up surprisingly refreshed after the emotional overload of last night. When Flynn had walked in that door, I had to restrain myself from jumping on him. He looked like my oasis in a hot desert and I was literally parched for him.
I had been doing a lot of thinking since he had been gone. I had done a lot of missing him as well, and maybe that’s why he left. To show me what I’d be missing.
I missed lying in bed with him at night and having him wrap his arms around with me. I missed his soft kisses and the way his eyes would heat up when he looked at me. I love the way he would swat my ass when I walked by and say, “Lookin’ good, baby”. I missed all those things so much and not one of those had a damn thing to do with friendship. They had to do with intimacy and I’ve apparently been an idiot to think those things were less important than the friendship aspect of our relationship.
I was prepared to tell Flynn all of those things and more, but he threw me for a loop when he walked back into my life and started talking about my parents.
There was a moment—just a split second—when he said he went to Texas that I despised him. Anger surged through me, white hot that he would dare to dredge up those painful memories. But it left just as quickly when I came to the complete and absolute realization that Flynn did it out of love for me. He did it as a way to let me confront my past.
I would like to say I was devastated over my father’s reaction, but I really couldn’t even muster up enough energy to care about him. The fact he lays broken and withering in a nursing home really doesn’t bother me at all. I wonder if that makes me a bad person, a numb person, or a realistic person.
When my mother walked through the door, I thought she was a ghost. I didn’t spare a glance at her new husband, but stared at the woman who birthed me and then threw me away. Anger surged again, and I wanted to claw her eyes out. But then, that faded quickly and hurt and confusion took its place.
I couldn’t believe the things she was saying. That she had failed me... that she was taking complete responsibility for everything that was done to me. She wouldn’t even let my father take the fall, because as a mother... she said it was her absolute duty to protect me.
It was only when she was getting ready to walk out that door that I let my heart make a split-second decision to let her back into my life. I certainly had no clue to what extent that would be, but I knew that for my own sanity and emotional well-being, I had to hear her out and I had to make peace with it.
She and Peter followed me into the kitchen and I waited for Flynn to come in. When he didn’t, I walked back out into the living room and he was gone. This made me sad, because I really wanted him by my side, but with everything I had done to him... with the way I had let him down, I deserved no less than to have him walk away.
My mom, Peter, and I talked until the early morning hours. I learned that my mother had an early love-hate relationship with my father. She loved him for the security and companionship he brought, but she hated the control that came with it. I believe her when she said that she sort of drank the Kool-Aid he offered to her, and she let her maternal instincts wither away to keep him happy.
I also believed her when she told me that her wake-up call came within hours of me leaving. She begged my father to call the police and go after me but he refused. She got in her car and drove the roads for hours, searching for me. Ironically, she even went to the bus station but I wasn’t there. I know I wasn’t there because I sat across the street in a diner until my bus was ready to leave.
My mom stayed with my father but the relationship deteriorated badly. They fought constantly and, within just a month of my leaving, she was residing permanently in another bedroom. They separated not long after that, although she didn’t make immediate moves for a divorce. She said it was almost too much work to have to fight him.
It was only after she met Peter that she had the strength to cut final ties and start her life over again.
Luckily for her, Peter is a Godsend. He stood by her quest to find me, shelling out tons of his own money to hire private investigators. He held her at night while she cried herself to sleep, and he even arranged for a memorial service for me when the last investigator said I was probably dead. I look forward to getting to know this man better as he seems to be a genuine soul… like Flynn.
My mother and I have a long way to go to fully repair our relationship. The last five years of my exile are hard for me to accept, but knowing that she wanted me, and that she knew she made a terrible mistake, makes it easier to accept. Before they left, I told her the words she needed to hear.
I told her I forgave her.
My mom and Peter are going to stay in New York for a few days and we’re going to get together for dinner tonight. I called Nix and asked him for tomorrow off so I could spend more time with them, and he didn’t even bitch at me once. He must still be having post-honeymoon bliss or something.