Page 128 of At First Smile
“True, but it makesthathappy ending so much sweeter.” She releases a contented sigh. “My desire for you to have someone has nothing to do with your disability, and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel like it does.”
“It isn’t just your insistence on me finding someone, but how you always focus on my eyesight.”
“I won’t apologize for wanting you to have everything, including your vision.” She sniffles.
“I have my vision, it’s just different than yours.” Eyes closed, I slosh out a breath.
"And it works a lot better than mine, as you said mine is the impaired one.”
“We just see things differently.”
“When you were first diagnosed and the doctor said you’d lose your eyesight, all I could think is that you were so little and already lost so much. Your dad. Now, your eyesight. Perhaps, I was a little zealous in compensating that loss.”
I scoff.
“Ok…a lotzealous.” She sighs. “I don’t want this to be our relationship. For you to resent me for making you feel like a burden because of my actions.”
“Neither do I.” I swallow down that thick lump clustered in my throat.
“That’s a start.”
“Where do we go from here?” Opening my eyes, I push up my glasses and dash away a few escaped tears.
“With a trip. How about Charlie and I come see you.” She clears her throat. “It’s long overdue. We can talk more… Figure it out, together.”
“Alright,” I say, the word slow and hesitant.
It’s not that I don’t want to move forward with my mother, but I know a lifetime of emotions knotted up in a strained relationship won’t be resolved in one call. I want the type ofrelationship with my mother where anxiety doesn’t gnarl inside me each time she calls. The type where I am her daughter to just be with, rather than a problem to solve.
“I’m glad you’re open to this,” she murmurs.
GB jumps up with a bark at the doorbell.
“Someone’s here. Let’s chat this weekend. Figure things out.
“I’d like that.”
Saying goodbye, I hang up. With a quick wipe of my face, I stride to the door. GB trots beside me, his nails clicking against the floor.
“Door manners,” I coo, scratching at his head as he sits beside me. GB may not always listen to Rowan, but he’s a perfect little gentleman for me, unless food is involved and then he’s an adorable monster.
“Hey, Pen, it’s Wes.”
I open the door to find him on the porch, a pink pastry box in his hand. The emotions from the call with my mother are replaced by a giant grin. Wes’s velvety baritone is utterly distinct, allowing me to recognize his voice, but I adore how every time he greets me, he identifies who he is, so there’s no mistake.
“This is for you.” He opens the box.
“Is that…”
“A baklava croissant from Bread.”
Bouncing on my feet, I take the box and gesture for him to come in. “So sweet… but you’re going to have to help me eat this. Did you come all the way out here just to bring me this?”
“Nope.” His tone is teasingly playful, like a child who knows a secret.
My eyebrow arches. “What shenanigans are you up to?”
“Being thebestdamn best friend ever.” He pulls out his phone. “I have a message for you.”
