Page 34 of Carry Me Home
We murmured our good mornings as we sat down to plates already heaped with French toast and berries. Mom didn’t deviate from her bowl of oatmeal and plain yogurt, with blueberries on top. She had eaten the same thing for breakfast every day for the last forty years. It was the secret to keeping her figure trim in middle age, and she never hesitated to remind me that it could do the same for me, as well.
“Yesterday’s event was a success,” Mom said as she spread a white linen napkin across her lap.
“That’s great,” I said automatically, concentrating on my food.
Mom took a dainty bite of oatmeal, then slid a white envelope across the table to me with two fingers. “Sign that before you leave, please.”
“What is it?” I asked, wiping my hands on my napkin before I picked it up. My eyebrows pushed together as I scanned the contents. My gaze shot to hers. “Mother…what is this?” I asked quietly.
“An apology.” She took a sip of her tea, then dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin.
“I see that.” The words came slowly as I struggled to contain my rage. “Butwhyam I apologizing?”
“For the misunderstanding at the party yesterday, of course.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” My voice shook. “Tell me you understand that.”
Her lips thinned and she looked down at her bowl. For a terrible moment, I was afraid she would deny it. But then she sighed, and when she spoke, her tone was conciliatory. “I agree with you. Todd was out of line. He’d had too much to drink, and you were wearing that blouse—not that it excuses his behavior. But the fact of the matter is, he was humiliated. Men like Todd Yates do not enjoy being humiliated.”
“Perhaps Todd Yates would be less prone to humiliation if he were actually a man instead of a whiny, entitled baby,” I muttered.
Mom frowned. “When these things happen, they are dealt with privately. You made a spectacle of him.”
Jackmade a spectacle of him, actually. But I knew she would never say that. Jack was worth too much. I was merely a façade for my parents. A pretty picture with nothing of substantive importance underneath.
“Sign the card, Jane. We’ll send it along with a Williams-Sonoma gift basket. The whole thing will be forgotten before you know it.”
I wouldn’t forget it. Not ever.
I glanced at Maya, who was cutting her French toast into equal-sized triangular bites. Her head was tilted in that way she had that told me she was listening to every word. She didn’t know what happened yesterday, but she’d know that today, her mom apologized to a man for something she didn’t do.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let Maya think that was an acceptable way to be treated.
“No.” I pushed the card back across the table.
Mom’s eyes flicked to Maya, and when she turned back to me, there was a calculating look in her narrowed gaze. “I am asking you for a favor, Jane. I would think you would be happy to do something kind for me, considering everything I do for you. Such as taking care of Maya while you’re working thissummer. It’s not easy to find childcare for someone with her needs, is it? Not in Aspen Springs.”
My chest tightened. No, it wasn’t easy. It was damn near impossible, actually. “I thought you were watching Maya because you love your granddaughter and want to spend as much time with her as possible,” I said, struggling to keep my tone light.
“Of course I love Maya. I love you, too, and I know you love me in return. We’re family. Part of being family means looking out for each other and doing what needs to be done, even if it’s uncomfortable.” She sipped her tea. “Sign the card, Jane.”
Not for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to have a family where love was just love and didn’t come with a million strings attached.
14
JACK
Essie
Are you at Sweetie Pies?
Jack
Got here ten minutes ago. What do you need?
Essie
Is there any apple pie left? I picked Maya up from school today, and it’s her favorite. I thought I’d drop by and get her a snack and then take her to the Painted Cat.
