Parker chuckled, and the anxiety in Erin that spiked as Cassie left mellowed some.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
They both just stood there. Erin didn’t know how to start. I’m sorry or It wasn’t supposed to happen or I love you so much. When she took too long searching for the right words, Parker laughed at her.
“Okay, let’s stop being weird and just sit down.” She climbed onto a stool at the kitchen island. “I mean, it’s gonna be weird, obviously, but we don’t have to be.”
She patted the stool beside her, and Erin came to sit on it.
“I love you,” she said. “So much.”
She expected Parker to roll her eyes or something similar. Something typical of a teenager. Instead, Parker grabbed her hand and squeezed.
“I know, Mom. I love you.”
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I—” Tears sprung to her eyes. She wanted to beg for forgiveness, even though Parker was acting like she hadn’t done anything wrong. “It didn’t—it wouldn’t have—if I had known—”
“Mom,” Parker said, squeezing her hand again.
Erin was supposed to be the adult here. She was supposed to be mature, wise, a role model. She wasn’t supposed to need her daughter to hold her hand.
She took a breath. “You said you’ve known since Valentine’s Day. But it started—it started well before that. Before I even saw you at school.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Family Weekend.” It was surreal to talk about. “You went to dinner with your dad Friday night, and I went to a bar.” As long as they were being honest, Erin figured she should go all in. “It’s hard, sometimes, being divorced. I mean, being divorced with a kid. It was one thing if your dad was your favorite when we were married, but I don’t know, it can feel like a competition now. I don’t want it to, and it’s not healthy, I know, but it can. So I went to a bar to distract myself. And I … met a woman.”
There was honesty, and then there was giving your kid details about your sex life. Erin skipped over that part.
“When you ‘introduced’ us at breakfast the next morning, I—God, I still don’t know. I was terrified.”
“I had no idea,” Parker whispered. “I mean, Acacia told me y’all had met then when I grilled her about it on Valentine’s Day, but at the time—I really had no idea.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of what we were going for.”
“Right.”
“I thought it would be okay. You hadn’t been at school long. Maybe you’d fall in with a different group. I didn’t think you’d invite her to visit over winter break.”
Parker was still holding her hand. She didn’t look mad, or disgusted, or any number of things Erin thought she would be. She’d thought of this moment a hundred different ways over the last six months, but she’d never imagined it would be this easy.
“I didn’t want anything to happen,” Erin said. “You and I were doing well, with you at school. It was hard, for a while, with the divorce, and my work, and just everything, right? But you’re so important to me. You’re the most important thing in my life. The most important person. The best thing I ever did.”
“Mom, stop.”
“I’m serious. I would do anything for you. All I want is for you to be happy.”
They were veering away from the point of the conversation, but this was important.
“My mom taught me to care about what other people thought. She taught me that other people’s opinions mattered, that that’s what I needed to pay attention to. I don’t want you to think that. I want you to do anything you want to. It’s your choice. Not your father’s, not mine, not your professors’。 You get to find what’s right for you. You get to make mistakes along the way. It’s your life.” Erin wiped away the tears that escaped her eyes. “Sorry, I know that’s not what this conversation is supposed to be about, but … it’s important.”
“It is kind of what the conversation is about, though,” Parker said. “You and Cassie. That’s you picking what’s right for you, yeah?”
Erin half laughed and wiped harder at her tears. “Yeah, I—I think you’re right. Cassie’s just—she’s—”
“She’s pretty great, huh?”
“She is.”
Erin’s chest warmed at the thought. Cassie was so great.