You can love someone your whole life, and realize you never really knew them at all. She’s been Helen, a woman I loved, but didn’t like. I’m realizing we’d spent all this time revealing our true selves to everyone but each other. But I don’t feel any pain, because for once, I’m figuring something out before it’s too late. The regret fades away a little easier.
“Well, you were right and wrong,” I say. Mom looks puzzled by this. “I did give up on you, but it was later than you expected. Much later.”
“How much later?”
I couldn’t help laughing, sitting here like two detectives piecing together together the timeline of a crime. “Sophomore year.”
“You’re kidding right? High School?”
“Yeah. At some point, I stopped trying. Seeing how close you were with Lily made me start counting the days until I could head off for college.”
“Some of that was done to spite you, but I wanted you to see I could be a mother.”
“But I’d already seen it, mom. You kept us afloat when we had nothing. I might have been young, but I could understand you were doing what you could.” The awkwardness is gone, replaced by a curiosity as I try to process everything. “Since we’re being charitable with our memories, I’ll tell you something I’ve never told anybody else.”
“I like where this is going. What?”
“Sometimes, I’d wish we were poor again. Crazy as it sounds, I missed the time when it was us against the world.”
This revelation affects her. She just nods her head awhile, staring out into nowhere, trying to process everything. “I pushed you away,” she says, shifting the tone of the conversation. “I tried to change, Miles, but I got scared and pushed you away. Even convinced myself I was teaching you how to deal with life. Every time I got it in my head to have this conversation with you, I’d panic.”
“You still could’ve tried.”
“And what would you have said?” she asks. I don’t have a response because she’s right. I would’ve blown her off, or made up an excuse to get off the phone. She was my antagonist, even more than my deadbeat father. I could force her to watch my growth in real time, using her grandkids to keep her hostage in the audience. I spent so much time trying to flaunt this persona to her, that I neglected them because I needed her to believe I was something I wasn’t. Cutting her off was too easy. But keeping her on the fringes of my life— close enough to peek, but far enough to feel excluded— gave me an intimate look at the effects, like she did to me in high school. But that’s the tricky part of harboring resentment, it damages everyone but its intended target.
“I’m sorry too, Mom,” I say. “I’ve said some hurtful things to you over the years—”
“Water under the bridge,” she interjects. “Life’s too fragile to chase things we can’t change. Let’s just move forward.”
“Done.”
She caresses my face, and I give her the moment. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“How was last n—”
“You can ask me almost anything,” I say fore she can finish. Mom raises her hands to signal she’s leaving it alone. Oh, what the hell. “It was awesome.”
“Ok, so what’s next?”
Fuck. I couldn’t let good enough be, I had nineteen on the blackjack table and got greedy. I fall into her lap, wishing I could’ve woken up and caught Melody. She slipped out of my life just as gracefully as she entered it, leaving feelings behind that I’ll never forget. I spent the week chasing Melody around the city, and it’s easy to think it was all for nothing. But in the process—from the bar to the record shop, and up until the moment I slid the mask off her face—I found something I didn’t know I was looking for.
I found myself.
But in the process of finding myself, I lost her. The guy that walked in that coffee shop, with the heavy heart and shoe full of dog shit was gone … or should I say fixed? Either way, he’s better because of her, but she’ll never see the fruits of her labor because he figured it out too late. A cruel twist of irony that I’ll never get over.
“It’s over, Mom,” I say. She glares at me like I’m an idiot before grabbing Melody’s letter and clearing her throat. She begins to read it out loud line by line, pausing at passages she thinks are relevant, punctuating them with a quick glance that drives home her insistence that I’m an idiot. During certain sections, she smiles, and I imagine Dr. Felt would smile while reading it as well. I’ll imagine her face with every milestone I reach for the rest of my life.
“‘This isn’t goodbye. At least I hope it’s not. This is me trusting that when the time is right, the universe will lead us back to each other. Love, Melody.’” Mom folds the letter and puts it back in the envelope. “Now—” she places the letter firmly on my chest. “—exactly what part of that letter says that it’s over? Because I can’t find it.”
“You wanna be my mother, or you wanna be my therapist?” I ask.
“I wanna be whatever you need me to be, Miles.”
The sincerity in her voice makes me regret the years I spent believing she was the bane of my existence. But, I think she’s a little too optimistic about this situation.
“It’s not as simple as it sounds,” I say. “She’s telling me to work myself out, and maybe it’ll work out.”
“What’s there to work out?” She gives the rundown on my life. “Lily’s been taken care of, I was never part of the equation to begin with, but we worked that out. If you left the city right now, the only thing you’d regret is Melody.”
“You’re not getting it,” I say, frustrated. “She doesn’t see the world like everyone else. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but she said the universe would lead us back to each other. That doesn’t happen overnight.”
She distorts her face in disgust. “The universe could drop that fucking chandelier on top of us too.” She moves from under me, stand over me and puts her foot on my chest. “Listen, I talked to that girl for an hour, and she cares about you in a way that most people spend their lives searching for.”
“But she—”
She balls her fist up to silence me. “This is the part where you shut the fuck up, and let me be a mother.” She seems determined to make up for lost time, even though we agreed to move forward. “Listen, the universe did bring you together, and I’m thankful for it because she’s perfect for you.”
I don’t know what they talked about, but it clearly had an effect on my mother. In my lifetime I’ve brought home six girls to meet her, and until now, only Sara has gotten the stamp of approval.
“But bringing you together isn’t enough to sustain it. You watched me struggle for years trying to find what you’re walking away from.” She bends and takes my head in her hands. “Love is too precious to be left to chance. Do you understand me?” she pleads, shaking my head.
She continues before I can agree.
“You can’t trust that it’s just gonna work out. Relationships are too complex. And yes, luck got you to the door, but it can’t make you step inside.” She recites the last line of Melody’s letter one more time. “That isn’t telling you to wait, Miles. She’s telling you to trust your feelings. If you don’t go find her, what do you expect her to do? What does that tell her?”