She gave a start. “Sean is working on a big job right now, and then we’re going to France. You?”
“Jen and I are having two weeks touring the Greek Islands. First trip without the kids. Can’t wait.”
“You’re not taking the kids?” Liza decided she didn’t have time to wait for her coffee to cool, so she drank a glass of water instead.
“Phoebe has tennis camp, and Rory got a place on a youth orchestra so they’re both going to be away for the same two weeks. Jenny and I thought we’d make the most of it. Enjoy some couple time, you know?”
No, she didn’t know. But she’d dearly love to find out. But would that solve her problem? Maybe not. The truth was, she felt lonely. She didn’t feel close to her mother, she wasn’t close to the girls, and right now she didn’t feel close to her husband.
Andrew blew on his coffee. “Your girls doing anything this summer?”
“Two weeks of theater workshops but living at home.”
Hardly a holiday by any stretch of the imagination.
Andrew ate a chocolate chip cookie, even though it was technically still breakfast time. “You and Sean going away by yourselves?”
“No.” Even if she’d wanted to, how could they trust the girls after what had happened the last time? As it was, she was going to be doing favors for her neighbors for the rest of her life to compensate.
And she no longer had any confidence that the twins were capable of looking after themselves.
She was planning to go to Oakwood Cottage at some point in order to check on Popeye as she’d promised her mother, but she had no idea how she was going to make that work. They would all have to go, which would stress Sean who couldn’t afford to take the time off right now.
“See you later, Andrew.”
She taught her morning classes, allowing the students latitude because they were excited about it being the last day.
At lunchtime she joined her colleagues in the staff room for a final lunch.
She had three missed calls from Caitlin, all of which she ignored. If she’d had an accident the school would have called.
This was her last opportunity for adult conversation for a while, and on balance she’d rather hear about Wendy’s new herb garden than chase through lunchtime traffic to pick up the trophy Caitlin should have remembered herself.
It was time to get tough. Not by grounding them, or removing privileges as she’d done up until now, but by forcing them to take responsibility. She should have done it before now.
“I can’t believe you didn’t bring the trophy.” It was the first thing Caitlin said when she walked through the door. “I called and called. Why didn’t you pick up the phone?”
“I was teaching.”
“But you always answer the phone, in case it’s an emergency.”
“It never is an emergency.” Would Sean be home early? She could use some moral support.
And then she remembered. Drinks. Which meant that she was here alone with the girls.
Happy Anniversary, Liza.
Caitlin was still giving a performance worthy of the drama award. “I could have been bleeding to death.”
“But you weren’t.” Liza opened the fridge. “You’re the one who forgot it, Caitlin. You need to be more organized.”
“But I asked you to bring it! That’s being organized.”
Teenage logic.
“I was working.”
“But you could have driven home at lunchtime.”
No one asked her how her day had been, or how she was feeling. No one cared.
Her insides felt hollow. She missed her mother. How ridiculous was that? She wasn’t any closer to her mother than she was to her children but right now she felt closer. It was that conversation in the car. That strange, surprising conversation where her mother had been kind, and praised her. Liza had thought about it a lot. She’d come close to breaking down and telling her mother everything. Not because she was close to her mother, but because there was no one else she felt able to talk to.
She missed intimacy. She missed feeling as if she was special to someone.
Liza closed the fridge slowly. Why had she opened it? She couldn’t remember.
Her head was full of her own mistakes.
She’d been determined to create a warm, comfortable home and to be the attentive loving mother she’d dreamed of having herself, but what she’d done was create the equivalent of a five-star hotel with room service.
She was a one-woman concierge. A fixer.
And the worst part was, they didn’t even notice. They were so used to having everything done for them it never even entered their heads to do it themselves. They complained about the service. If this had been a paid position, Caitlin probably would have fired her.
She felt a moment of something close to panic. She’d been so sure—smug—that she was a much better parent than her own mother. But she’d left home able to look after herself, because she’d been doing it since she was young. It never would have crossed her mind to demand that her mother drive to fetch something she’d forgotten. She either wouldn’t have forgotten it, or she would have figured out a way to get it herself.
She’d failed her children. A parent was supposed to raise a child to be independent. Respectful of another person’s time. And what had she done? She’d raised them to yell for their mother when there was no pizza in the freezer or when a strap top had gone missing from the laundry.
How were they going to cope when they left home?
And how was she going to cope right now?
She felt as if her head was exploding. There was a crushing weight on her chest and breathing felt difficult.
The long-awaited summer stretched ahead, but it was going to be more of the same.
She would soothe and smooth until all the lives of the various members of her family were wrinkle-free. It was what she did.
“Can we order pizza tonight?” Alice pushed her sports bag into the laundry room. “As a celebration?”
“How about ordering from that amazing Thai restaurant?” Caitlin ate a yogurt from the fridge and left the empty container on the countertop. “Or maybe Indian.”
What would you like, Mum? Let’s let Mum choose.
Enough!
Ignoring the empty yogurt container, Liza walked out of the kitchen and was halfway up the stairs by the time Caitlin caught up with her.
“Mum? We’ve decided on pizza. What toppings do you want?”
Liza headed for the bedroom. “No takeaway. You and Alice can make something from the fridge.”