Page 54 of The Uncomplicated Café
“No, there’s definitely something,” CeCe prodded. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing,” Mama repeated, pouring the deep-red liquid over the thick swirl of honey. The aromatic steam filled the air with its fruity fragrance. “I just find it interesting, that’s all.”
“What’s interesting?” CeCe frowned. Why wouldn’t her mother come out and say whatever was on her mind?
Mama set the colorful ceramic teapot back on the trivet and met her gaze. Her dark eyes shimmered with a mother’s love—gentle and understanding. “You’ve supported Jayce’s passions since day one, even when it meant moving away. Why is that?”
“Because I care about him.” CeCe shifted on the rickety chair. Where was this conversation headed? And why did she feel compelled to further explain herself? “I want to see him succeed, to be fulfilled in life. Screenwriting—storytelling—is what he loves. Whenever he talks about it, he lights up. And he’s good at it, Mama. Really good. You should read his script. It’s amazing.” Her heart swelled with pride as she recalled the beautiful words he’d written. The humor and subtext. The meaningful message behind the entertaining story. “Yes, I miss him. And I wish he lived closer. I wish—” She paused, on the verge of saying too much.
A surge of heat flooded her body as the memory of Jayce’s kiss interrupted her thoughts. What did it mean? After all these years, he clearly had feelings for her, too—feelings that far surpassed the safe simplicity of their friendship. But what kind of future could they possibly have together? She couldn’t give up her café and life in Blessings Bay any more than he could abandon his successful career in Hollywood.
She took a sip of tea, and the sweet, tangy liquid stung the rawness in her swollen throat. Would pursuing a future with Jayce condemn her to a life like her mother’s, constantly torn between love and loneliness? Or did she and Jayce have a shot at doing things differently?
Taking another sip, she willed the soothing herbal tea to center her troubling thoughts. “I wish we could see each other more often,” she continued, sticking to the abbreviated version of her complicated emotions. “But I would never want him to give up something that brings him so much joy.”
Mama smiled again—a knowing smile bordering on amused.
CeCe squirmed, feeling exposed. “Why do you keep smiling like that? Is it so strange that I want him to be happy?”
“Of course not, sweetheart. It’s perfectly natural. It’s how I feel about your father.” The subtle implication of her mother’s words floated across the table like a feather-soft tendril of steam—a tendril that pierced CeCe’s heart with an unexpected sharpness.
She inhaled a quick, cutting breath.
Mama pushed her mug to the side and sighed deeply. “We should’ve had this conversation a long time ago.”
CeCe held the air in her lungs, too nervous to exhale. Was it finally happening? Was the heart-to-heart she’d had with her mother a million times inside her own mind about to become a reality? She’d both feared and desperately longed for this moment.
Mama met her gaze again. This time, her eyes were glassy with a potent mixture of guilt and sadness. “I told myself I was doing the right thing. That I was protecting you. When your father quit his job at the university and started traveling more as a contract archeologist, you were so young. I didn’t know how to help you understand—” She hesitated, glancing at her clasped hands on the table. Twisting her wedding band, she admitted, “I couldn’t help you understand what I wasn’t willing to accept myself.”
For a moment, the confession lingered in the silent space between them. When her mother finally spoke again, her voice strained with barely suppressed emotion. “Those first few yearswere so hard. I missed your father terribly. I wanted things to go back to the way they were, before he quit teaching. I wanted our family to be together again, but I didn’t know how to tell him—didn’t know if Ishouldtell him.” She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye before fidgeting with her ring again. “I knew the university job wasn’t enough for him. I saw the fire in his eyes die a little more every day he spent behind a desk. He needed to be on the front lines of discovery. In the trenches.” She flashed a sad, wistful smile. “He wanted us to go with him.”
“He did?” CeCe sat up straighter. Why hadn’t anyone ever told her?
Her mother nodded. “He begged me more than once. But what kind of life would that be for a little girl? Always traveling from one country to the next. No school. No friends. No stability.” Her voice cracked, and she reached for her tea. After a long, bolstering sip, she set her mug back down. “I realize now, we might have been able to make it work. Other people have. But I was… scared. Terrified, actually. To give up our life here. Our friends. Our community. Everything we know and love for a world of uncertainty. So, I—I chose to stay.”
CeCe sank into the chair, her mind reeling. Her father wanted them to join him? If she’d known earlier, would the realization have changed anything between them?
She tried to envision her life if her mother had agreed to her father’s request—all the adventures, the excitement. But what about the potential isolation and loneliness? Not to mention the domino effect such a decision could elicit. Where would she be now? Would she still own her café? What about Spock? And her friends? AndJayce?
Her heart wrenched at the possibility of losing so much.
Without the ability to live out both scenarios and then decide, she suspected her mother had made the right decision. And yet, the mere knowledge that her father missed them—thathewantedthem by his side—helped to soothe the fractured edges of her soul. If only she’d known sooner, maybe they wouldn’t have drifted so far apart. “Why didn’t you and Dad ever tell me?”
“I don’t know. I suppose because it took so long to work through our own issues as a couple. You were right, sweetheart. For a long time, Iwaspretending. At least, partly.” For the first time since the conversation began, her mother’s hands stilled, resting calmly on the table. Her steady gaze sparked with conviction.
“I love your father. And I truly believe God designed him for the work he’s doing. But I still struggled with hurt and resentment. Not resentment toward your father,” she added hastily. “I resented the time we spent apart. And I didn’t know how to both support himandbe honest about my feelings. So, instead of asking him to call more often, to try harder to come home on time, and essentially, to be more present in our lives, I bottled all those desires inside. And I see now that you suffered from my silence. And I’m so sorry, honey.”
CeCe nodded slowly as her mother’s words seeped into her wounds like a welcome salve while also stirring her empathy. She, too, struggled to support the man she loved while yearning for more.
What would it look like to be a priority in Jayce’s life without expecting too great a sacrifice? What did a healthy balance even look like? Was it possible?
She reached across the table for her mother’s hand. “It’s okay, Mama. I feel like tonight has been the wake-up call I’ve needed. Maybe one we’ve all needed. I don’t know what the future holds. But I do know it’s finally time to express all the things I’ve been too afraid to say.”
Both to her father.
And Jayce.
Chapter Thirty-Three
