Page 65 of Not How I Saw That Going

“Linda, was it?”

“Actually, it’s Lyndi,” I say with a half-baked smile.

Where do we go from here? Back to the weather and itstastefuleffects on my body?

“I was hoping to speak with you for a moment,” she says, her tone leaving no room for denial.

I turn to Maddie. “Will you go gather Crew’s stuff for me?”

She eagerly takes the out, and I turn back to Claire.

“Look, dear,” she says, but the endearment is condescending. “I know you mean well, and I’m sure you’re a lovely mother. But Ward doesn’t need someone in his life who…” She wrings her hands together. “How do I put this gently? Makes a scene?” She brushes an invisible fleck off her sleeve.

My eyes bulge. Is she calling me a child? “Excuse me?”

She waves her hand in the air, dismissing her insult. Just because I peed my pants doesn’t make me a baby.

“Sophie showed me the video. The one that got you lots ofattention.” She shakes her head with a frown. For a woman who wore a beekeeper hat to a children’s soccer game, she doesn’t have a lot of room to talk. “I feel for your situation, I really do. But please don’t use my son to find fame.”

My jaw drops, full of lead weight. Who does this woman think she is? My mother?

Oh my gosh.

She is my mother. And once again, I’m not good enough.

My tongue freezes with the realization.

She turns, leaving me gaping, and once she’s gone, I collapse back on my chair, feeling myself shrink inside. I don’t want to believe a word she says, or the lies she thinks she knows about me. But it all comes flooding back so easily.

How many times have I wished I had stood up to my own mother? I never did. Because deep down, I believed she was right about everything.

Five years later, I still struggle to convince myself she wasn’t.

Twenty Four

Lyndi

Crystalclearwaterrushesagainst the white shores. I dig my toes into the fine sand, preparing to run into the water. Ward’s strong arms wrap around my middle, and I forget about my path to the ocean. This is so much better.

Brrriiiing. Brrriiiing.

I shoot upright in my bed, forgetting where I am for a moment. At home, not on a Caribbean beach with a sexy man pretending to be my boyfriend. How incredibly disappointing.

“Hello?”

“Will you accept a call from…Rodney Hershing…an inmate at…” My heart pounds in my ears and I click the end button before the automated message can finish its request.

I fling the phone across the room. I need it as far away from me as possible.

The letters were one thing, but this? How did he get my new number? He gave up his parental rights to Crew years ago. He can’t just call me like we were once a family, because we never have been. What does he want from me?

That old fear of emotional abuse hits me in the chest, and I struggle for air. I can’t lose myself to him after all that I’ve done to find me again. I have much more to lose this time than just my sense of self.

I take a deep breath. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.

He’s just being Rodney. Playing mind games and belittling me was his favorite pastime and now he has nothing else to occupy him. Maybe he’s calling to tell me he’s changed. Or that he met someone while in prison and they will be getting married when he gets out.

He has no control over me anymore.

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