“What?” Caitlin’s shriek brought her sister running to the top of the stairs.
“What’s wrong?”
“Mum washed my jeans! Can you believe that?”
“Thank you for washing my jeans, Mum,” Liza said, and Caitlin flushed.
“I needed them today, that’s all.”
“If you needed them, why were they in the laundry?”
“Because they needed a wash—but I thought you’d have done it by now. I put them there on Monday.”
“I’ve had a busy week too. I’m sure you can find something else to wear.”
“I wanted my jeans. I’m going to look awful in all the photos, and that will be your fault. You’re still punishing me because of the stupid party. I hate my life!” She thundered back upstairs and reappeared ten minutes later wearing a pair of thigh-length boots with bare legs and a miniskirt.
Still blindsided by the fact that her daughter thought she hadn’t washed the jeans out of spite, Liza blinked. “Where did you get those boots?”
“Jane lent them to me.”
“Well, you can give them back.” Stay calm. Do not escalate the tension. “You’re not wearing that outfit to school, last day or not. It’s inappropriate.”
Caitlin’s eyes sparked. “I know you like to control absolutely everything about our lives, but you’re not controlling what I wear. I decide. I do have a brain, you know.”
“And it would be good to see you using it.” This was exhausting and thankless. “Go and change.”
“No time.” Caitlin swung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the car.
Alice was right behind her. “Don’t start a fight,” she begged. “I can’t be late today. I’m reciting a poem, remember? Doing that is enough of a horror without being late.”
Why was she always the one who had to deal with these moments?
She’d give anything to swap places with Sean. She’d take a picky adult over a teenager in a tantrum any day.
“Can we go?” Alice tugged her sleeve. “People wear anything on their last day. No one cares.”
“Do people wear barely anything? Because that seems to be the look your sister is going for.” Liza looked at her daughter’s sleek bare thighs as she folded herself into the car.
She really ought to stand firm on this one, but Alice was right. If she stood her ground and argued they would all be late, her included. It wasn’t fair to expect her colleagues to cover her classes because her daughter was determined to make life as difficult as possible.
Shame washed over her.
She was allowing herself to be manipulated, and she’d almost given up caring. She was too tired to resist.
Defeated, she locked the front door and drove to school.
Caitlin scowled from under her fringe for the short journey and the moment Liza stopped the car she sprang out and headed through the gates, all sweet smiles and waves when she saw her friends.
“Bye, Mum.” Alice slammed the car door behind her and followed her sister.
Liza sat in the silence of the car and then glanced back at the twins. Caitlin was now convulsed with laughter, arms round her friends. Less than fifteen minutes earlier she’d behaved as if her life was over. Now she looked as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
Hurt slid into her.
Breathe, Liza, breathe.
They’d come through this phase, as they had all the others. One day she’d laugh at it. Would she?
She wanted so badly to be close to them. She’d never wanted them to think I wish I was closer to my mother, as she so often did. But they didn’t seem interested.
What was she to them? She was a chauffeur, a housekeeper, a chef.
And whose fault was that?
Liza swallowed. What had her mother said? Which part of your life is for you and no one else?
The answer was none of it.
She forced herself to take a hard, brutal look at the truth. Gradually, over time, they’d learned to expect her to do things for them. They didn’t see it as an act of love. They took advantage. Where are my jeans? Have we run out of milk?
The girls didn’t appreciate her affection or her interest. Stop the inquisition, Mum.
All she had to show for the last sixteen years of homemaking was two young women who expected her to cook their meals, do their laundry and be at their beck and call.
Right on cue, her phone rang.
Caitlin.
Liza reached out to take the call and then changed her mind. No. If she wasn’t always available, maybe the girls would start thinking for themselves.
She let the call go to voice mail and immediately felt anxious. What if it was an emergency? Or what if Caitlin wanted to apologize for her rude, selfish behavior?
Hating herself for not being stronger, she checked the message.
“Mum!” Caitlin’s voice barked down the phone. “I’ve forgotten to bring the school drama cup from home and it’s the last day. I’ll lose house points if I don’t, and everyone will hate me. I need you to drop it into reception at lunchtime.” There were giggles in the background and then the phone went dead.
Please, Mum. Thank you, Mum.
I love you, Mum.
Liza stuffed her phone into her bag.
It was time to make changes. And no doubt she’d pay a high price for that and life would be stressful for a while, but no matter how much unpleasantness her actions caused she wasn’t going to budge.
Fueled by anger and hurt, she drove to the school where she taught and arrived in the staff room just before the bell.
“One more day.” Her colleague Andrew was pouring hot water onto instant coffee. “The summer cannot come soon enough. You look stressed—everything okay?”
Everything was not okay, but she wasn’t going to say anything. She was upset, but that didn’t mean she was ready to discuss her teenagers in the staff room. Also, the conversation wouldn’t reflect well on her and she was already feeling like a bad mother without needing reinforcement from others.
“End of the school year. You know how it is.”
He probably had no idea how it was, but this was a staff room not a psychiatrist’s waiting room. Confessions weren’t appropriate.
He stirred sugar into his coffee. “You doing anything exciting this summer, Liza?”
Washing. Cleaning. Cooking. Organizing. Loading the dishwasher.
“Liza?”