He’s here.
My feet moved faster. But as I drew closer, I realized that it couldn’t be him. The person waiting outside was too short, too slight. My stride slowed until I came to a complete stop.
“Mom?”
The figure swiveled its head and looked up at me.
She looked exhausted, ten pounds slimmer, but still extremely put together. She patted herself clean of invisible dirt, like her mere presence in a zip code that wasn’t Park Avenue dirtied her up.
“Hello, darling,” she chirped brightly, her plastic smile unwavering. “Sorry I’ve missed your calls. I had a few things to tend to. Is this a bad time? I can come back tomorrow if you’d like.”
I shook my head slowly. “No. Right now is fine. Come on up.”
I kicked off my heels and threw my keys into the ugly bowl by my door upon arrival, realizing this was the first time my mother had ever been to my apartment. I flicked the coffee machine on, pulling out two cups.
“Take a seat. How’ve you been?” I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. She’d done it again. Gone MIA on me. After a few weeks when she’d actually resembled a mother, albeit from afar and only if you squinted to really put it into focus, she’d just bailed. Again. I should’ve known. Should’ve expected it. Then why did it hurt so much?
Beatrice perched herself on the edge of my green velvet Anthropologie couch, occupying as little space as possible. “Well. Everything considered, of course.”
“Coffee okay?”
“Oh, just lovely, thank you.”
“Cream? Sugar?” I asked. It was wild that I didn’t know such a trivial thing about my mother.
“I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t usually drink coffee. Just put what you normally do in your coffee. I’m sure I’ll like it.”
I dumped two spoonfuls of sugar and extra cream into her cup. I had a feeling she needed the extra calories. I carried both our coffees to the living room and sat on a recliner in front of her. She took a careful sip. I found myself watching her closely. Her face relaxed after the first sip. Maybe she’d thought I’d poison her.
And if this were ten years ago, maybe I would have.
“That’s actually good.”
“Coffee is the nectar of the nine-to-fivers.” I sat back. “So why are you here?”
My mother put her cup down on the coffee table, turning toward me fully. “There’s a reason why I haven’t taken any of your calls, Arya. I spoke to your friend, Jillian, about it, but I asked her not to tell you.”
I almost dropped my coffee midsip. It was unlike my mother to get involved with any of my friends. In fact, I’d had no idea she was even aware of Jillian’s existence. Mom licked her lips fast, her words measured and well rehearsed. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently. I know I haven’t been the best mother. Or any sort of mother at all. I take full responsibility for that. But when things with Conrad began to unravel, the last thing I wanted was to become a liability to you on top of losing everything that I had. So . . . well, I got myself a job.”
My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “You’re going to start working for us?”
My mother shook her head, laughing. “See? That is exactly why I wanted some time to pull myself together. No. I will not be taking a position with Brand Brigade. I found a job independently. Well, more or less.” She scrunched her nose. “You’re looking at the new administrative and marketing assistant for my country club! Granted, a country club I can no longer afford, but the offer is great and the health insurance is quite good, or so I’m told.”
A strange feeling swept over me. Like I was under warm water. Elation. Pride. And hope. So much hope.
“Mom.” I reached to grab her hand, squeezing it. “That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
Her eyes shone, and she nodded, taking another sip of her coffee. “Yes, and that’s not all. I filed for divorce yesterday. It’s over, Arya. I’m leaving your father, and he is moving to New Hampshire to live with his sister and her husband.”
“Oh, Mom!” I flung myself over her, burying my face into her shoulder. It took me a few seconds to realize I was sitting in her lap. I was a good five pounds heavier than her at this point, but when I tried to stand up, she pulled me back down, cupping my face with both her hands. Tears streamed down my cheeks. I couldn’t help it. They just kept coming. But they felt good. Cleansing.