Page 119 of Hero for the Holidays

“You still haven’t come back here.”

“No. And maybe it’s because I’m afraid. I’m afraid that coming back there will make me more like I used to be. I’m sorry that you’re all caught up in that. In that part of my life that was so difficult. I don’t know what to do about the mess that I made there. I’ve done a lot of therapy. A lot of thinking. I know that doesn’t help you. It doesn’t make me a better mother. I said things to you that were unforgivable, Fia, and from my own hurt.”

“Do you remember. Do you remember when you told me that you were trying your hardest? And that I would be a terrible mother?”

“Yes,” she said. “I thought about that often, especially when you ended up staying single. But I did not realize that you were actually pregnant at the time. I was in a bubble. I was being selfish. The most important thing to me was my relationship with your father, and when it wasn’t going well, nothing was going well.”

“But you feel like you’re a different person now than you were then.”

“Yes.”

She realized then that this was actually the more important thing. It wasn’t coming to terms with her mother. She had a feeling that for her, coming to terms with her mother would always look a little bit differently than it did to her sisters. She had a feeling that for her, there would always be some resentment. She would never ache for a closer relationship to her. But she did want to learn something. As she was, steeped in regret.

“Do you think you would’ve been a better mother if you would’ve waited longer? If you would have maybe been with someone else?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitating. “Some people can learn on the job. I didn’t learn fast enough. And so you were all caught up in my mistakes. I shouldn’t have been mothering in my twenties. I should have been dating. I should’ve been finding out all the things about myself that I didn’t actually find out until I was in my forties. If I would’ve known that I could be happy by myself, if I would’ve known that I could be happy with other partners. With men. With women. If I would’ve known that, I wouldn’t have clung to him so hard. I wouldn’t have made him my entire identity. I would’ve given you different advice. I would have treated you better. I would’ve had more patience.”

“I’m struggling. Because I really do believe that I did the right thing by giving Lila up for adoption. I do. It’s hard because now Landry and I are both so good at it.”

“But you don’t know who you would’ve been. How long it would’ve taken you to get to this point if you’d been struggling through that whole time. I’m evidence that a person can change. But also evidence that a person could just be a bad mother.”

There was something about that that was balm for Fia’s soul. An honesty that she hadn’t really expected.

“It’s tempting to believe that love covers all that stuff,” Fia whispered.

“I loved you, Fia. I always have. But I couldn’t prioritize acting on that love when I felt so miserable about myself. I couldn’t put your needs before mine because I felt like I was going to fall apart if I couldn’t fix my relationship with him. And then I just sat in that farmhouse, and that life that he wanted, and I felt myself getting smaller and smaller. It was the worst when I envied you.”

“You envied me?”

“Yes,” her mom said, broken. “I knew you had a boyfriend—you weren’t that sneaky. I knew you were in love. You were radiant with it. So young and with your whole life ahead and I was stuck. It made me jealous. Of my own daughter. After your dad left it was a slow process, but I realized my life was only fixed if I stayed in one place. It was only too late for me to live if I decided not to live. I knew I needed to change everything in order to find myself. I was going to just continue. I know you were angry that I left. But having me there was only ever going to get worse and worse. We didn’t get along...”

“Yeah.”

It was right then that she realized in her way, her mother had made that decision for her. Because Fia loved the ranch and she didn’t. Because back then being near each other was only toxic. It hadn’t been wholly selfish. It had been a gift in its way. And she’d never been able to see it that way. Because once their mother was gone they been able to paint the farmhouse in bright colors. And find new life and new focus. Because sometimes you had to cut ties to change things for real.

And that didn’t mean you couldn’t circle back. But she could see it. Clearly. And she could see the truth of all this in her own life.

“I do want to come visit. I need to come see Alaina’s baby. And yours.”

“Well, it so happens that Landry has been renovating some guest quarters. You can come visit, and you wouldn’t have to stay in the farmhouse. You wouldn’t have to be at Sullivan’s Point. Maybe that would be easier for you.”

“Maybe,” she said. “You’ve changed a lot, Fia.”

“I have,” she said.

That was the other best thing she could’ve heard.

Because she had so much worry about old patterns, old feelings and old failings. But she had changed. Because in some ways, she’d figured out that she was okay without Landry King. She sure liked having him around, though. But she hadn’t died when they’d broken up. She’d been strong, and they’d made a new life for themselves. Even if a commune and multiple lovers hadn’t been her answer.

She would never be the same kind of jealous that she used to be.

It wasn’t actually because she would be okay without him. It was mostly that she could see the clear differences between him and her father. When at the time it had been too easy to decide that her father made a case for men being all one thing.

Landry wasn’t her father any more than he was his.

“Thank you. For the conversation. I appreciate it. I had some things to work out.”

“I’d like to try,” said her mother, “to have some kind of relationship. I’m learning. That you girls are growing. I’m learning more and more what I need to do to be there for you.”

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