Page 17 of Always Been You
My dad chuckles, patting her hand, but I notice her fingers tighten slightly around his. A flicker of something crosses her face, almost too quick to catch, and she glances at me with a watchful expression.
“If you all would stop teasing and start eating, maybe we’d have time for dessert before midnight,” she says, dry but warm. I laugh, though her gaze lingers on me a little longer than usual, as if she’s sizing me up. For someone who’s always composed, she seems almost… cautious tonight.
“Come on, Lawliss,” my sister Elisa chimes in with a grin, “don’t pretend you’re not just as much of a perfectionist as Mom.”
I make a face. “There’s a difference between perfectionism and responsibility. One of us has to keep things in order around here.”
“Of course, our resident legal eagle,” Elisa says, rolling her eyes playfully. “No one would ever accuse you of bending the rules, unlike certain other family members.” She winks at me, fully embracing her role as the troublemaker.
Just as the laughter fades and I’m about to take a bite, I feel my mother’s gaze on me again, heavier this time. There’s a silence that stretches just a little too long. She opens her mouth as if to say something, then stops.
Finally, I break the tension. “Just say it.”
She raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Say what, exactly?”
“Say what you want to say, Maa.”
She studies me with a calm, assessing look. “What do you think I want to say?”
I set down my fork, meeting her gaze head-on. “I don’t know. You’ve been stealing glances so maybe you want to say, ‘I told you so.’”
The room goes quiet. Even Elisa, who usually has a quip ready, falls silent.
My mother’s lips press into a thin line, her expression unwavering. “Interesting. Why would you think that’s what I want to say? Is that what you’re saying to yourself?” She pauses, then lets out a soft scoff, almost more to herself than to me. “Is that why you stayed away for over a month? I thought you knew your family better… you knew me better.”
I swallow, feeling a prickle of irritation. “I don’t know, Maa. Your text messages lately have been… confusing. They don’t feel like they’re coming from the person I thought I knew. Pardon me for needing to step back and check the facts I’ve relied on my whole life.” She’s been sending mixed signal messages. Today is to ask how I am and tomorrow it’s to demand something of me. It’s so out of character.
She tilts her head, regarding me coolly. “Are you using me as a punching bag for your punching bag ex? Because I won’t accept that.”
I let out a dry, almost bitter laugh. “Oh, please. He’s the last thing on my mind.” and that's the truth.
She raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You don’t say… And why’s that?”
“ENOUGH!” My father’s voice cuts through the tension, his tone sharper than I’ve ever heard it. The sound reverberates through the dining room, startling us all into silence.
He looks between us, his eyes a mix of frustration and quiet resolve. “This is supposed to be a homecoming, not a tribunal.” He glances at my mother, softening slightly. “Let’s give each other a little grace tonight.”
My mother looks down at her plate, composing herself with a single steady breath. She doesn’t respond, but her shoulders relax a fraction. My father reaches over, resting a hand on her arm, and the moment passes, though the words hang between us, unspoken but lingering.
I exhale, trying to shake off the tension as we return to our meal, but the taste of it lingers, a reminder that things between us are far from resolved.
Chapter Nine
Lawliss
After dinner, the chef serves dessert, and we all settle into the living room. Janette is fast asleep on my father’s lap, while Elisa and Lauren are whispering to each other, conspiring about who knows what. I take a bite of the cake and can’t help but moan.
“That good?” my mom’s voice cuts through, causing me to flinch. I look over my shoulders to see her watching me with a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. I turn and nod, savoring the rich flavor. We fall into a comfortable silence, both of us lost in thought, when her next words strike me like a jolt.
“I’m sorry.” I blink, not sure I heard her right.
“Excuse me—what?”
She smiles faintly. “Do you want me to repeat it?”
“Oh, no. It’s just… unexpected,” I stammer, suddenly feeling like a teenager caught off guard. I can’t help but blink at her rapidly. She raises an eyebrow, then chuckles.
“Did I really just leave the acclaimed and renowned lawyer speechless?” Of course she did. My mom is not one to apologize. She’s always right in her dictionary. It wasn’t always easy dealing with her, especially at work when our opinions clashed and we wanted different things. Yes, she’s grown softer towards us as we grew, but never apologized. Thinking back, this is the first time she’s apologized to me.
