Bibi’s eyes fell shut. “Lord, baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“So is she. Everyone is sorry but no one will tell me anything.”
“It’s not my place,” she said. “It’s up to your mother to unlock her heart for you or not. I’m angry with her for showing up out of the blue when I knew she wasn’t ready. Saying things that would only hurt and confuse you.” She shook her head grimly. “Foolishness.”
“I hate feeling this way,” I said quietly. “With her but with you too.”
“I know. But it can’t be helped. I made a promise. And keeping one’s word means something.”
“Even if it hurts me?”
She shook her head, her warm face that I’d turned to for comfort a thousand times, now stiff and unmovable. Her tone firm. “I’m sorry for that, Shiloh. But I also made a promise to myself, too. To only ever do what I think is best for you. To protect your happiness.”
I understood her meaning, and the dread sank heavier in my stomach. Telling me the truth is worse than keeping me in the dark.
I pushed off the couch. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m going to lie down. Do you need anything?”
“No, honey, but wait…”
I did something I’d never done before; I ignored her and went to my room. My heart, already cracked wide, cracked again for the rift between us. I curled up on my bed and didn’t go to school that day. Or the next.
Or the one after that.
My phone chimed with texts until I put it on silent without looking at them.
On the third afternoon I’d spent lying on the couch in sweatpants and an old T-shirt, watching her programs with her, Bibi stood over me, hands on her hips.
“You just going to lie around for…how long? You’re missing a lot of school.”
“I’m taking a few personal days.”
“This isn’t like you, Shiloh.”
Isn’t it? Who’s to say? I don’t know who I am.
She sighed at my silence and sat down next to me, her hand gentle on my shoulder.
I couldn’t resent her for keeping whatever promise she’d made to Mama, but it had taken these three painful days to get us back to where we’d been—about the same amount of time for the shock of my mother’s sudden visit to wear off.
But the hangover wouldn’t quit.
A pain had lodged deep in my chest or heart…or maybe deeper than that. A knife stab in my damn soul. I thought about Ronan’s mother. It was horrible he’d lost her, but maybe that was better than having her alive and walking the earth, thinking her own kid was a battle she fought and lost.
The sun was turning a twilight gold when my phone vibrated with an incoming call.
“You going to get that?” Bibi asked.
“No.”
On TV, Judge Judy scolded a man for not remembering the basic facts of his own case.
“It’s Ronan, isn’t it?” Bibi said. “He’s probably worried sick about you.”
“He doesn’t want anyone to know we’re seeing each other.”
“That doesn’t sound like him.”
“He has his reasons. And we’re casual. Because I have my reasons too.”
The phone buzzed again from the coffee table.
“Shiloh.” Bibi wasn’t messing around.
I heaved a sigh and reached over to pick it up. I had two missed calls and a half dozen texts.
Are you okay?
Shiloh?
WTF??
“It is Ronan.” I closed my eyes for long moments, then set the phone back down.
“Talk to me, baby,” Bibi said, her tone gentle now. “Come on. I know your mama didn’t do right but I’m getting scared.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, hauling myself to sitting. My braids were getting rough, my sweatshirt stained. “I hate myself like this. Mama hates me, period.”
“She doesn’t, honey. But I hate that she makes you feel this way. So you think being alone is the only way to be strong.”
“Because it’s true. I can’t open my heart and be strong at the same time. I can’t…be in love and still be in control.” I gestured at my nest on the couch. “Look at me. Mama was here for ten minutes and it wrecked me for three days.” I shook my head. “I have to be alone. I have work to do.”
“You choose to be alone because it’s safe. Because your mother hurts you terribly, and I’m so sorry for that, Shiloh. I’m sorry you feel the need to protect yourself. But Ronan…he’s a good man, yes?”
I nodded, my hands twisting in my lap. “But how long before…?”
“How long before what, baby?”
“Before he sees what Mama sees? How long before he decides he doesn’t want me either?”
“Oh, sweet girl…” Bibi gathered me to her, held me tight.
God, I felt so pathetic. So weak. My chest torn open. Exposed. My heart bleeding for my mother and beating for Ronan. The tears tried to come but I willed them back and shook my head.
“Never mind,” I said, gently extracting myself from Bibi’s embrace. “I’m going to school tomorrow. I’m going to get my shop. That’s my only goal. It’s where I should put my energy. Not in silly boy drama that I promised I’d never get involved in. Because I was right. It’s just a distraction.”
A beautiful, sexy, intense distraction that I can’t stop wanting.
“No, Shiloh.” Bibi’s voice was back to firm. “Marie coming here is the distraction. Don’t let her words poison you. Not against Ronan and especially not against yourself.”
I smiled for Bibi’s sake. “I’ll try,” I said, but it felt too late. Mama’s rejection had burrowed down, planting roots that had gone so deep I didn’t know how I’d ever tear them out.
We ate a quiet dinner, and soon after, Bibi went to bed. I stayed on the couch in the dark; the only light was the glare of the TV. The Simpsons was a too-bright blare of yellows, blues, and reds.
I must’ve dozed off because I was jolted out of my skin when a hard rapping came at the door. The night was deep and dark when I peered through the peep hole. Ronan was angrily pacing our front walk, rain drenching him.
I threw open the door. A square of light from the house fell over him, illuminating his face that was hard and angry. His dark hair was plastered down over his forehead and cheeks.
“What are you doing here?”
“Are you alright?” he demanded.
“Of course, I am. What—?”
“Good.” He practically spat the word, then turned to go. He took two steps and whirled around, whipping wet hair out of his eyes. “I mean…what the fuck, Shiloh?”
I recoiled, crossed my arms over my chest. “I stayed home for a few days.”
“You can’t answer a damn text?”
“My phone was off. I was trying to rest. So you show up at my house and… What are you doing here?”
“Nothing. Making sure you’re okay.”
I hugged myself tighter, scared of how badly I wanted to throw myself into his arms. The fear put ugly things in my mouth to push him away.
“Why? What is your crazy obsession with me? Being safe? From who? What the hell do you think is going to happen?”