Page 79 of Take It Till You Make It
“Chandra assures me you don’t hate me, but I don’t know how you can’t.”
I look around. Who now? Did I just transport into an alternate universe? “Ch..Chandra? Miracle?”
Mom nods as she stares at the table. “She’s been very kind.”
“She has? You know her?”
“At first, she reached out through cards, in the mail. But she always included her phone number and insisted she was there to help in any way she could.” Mom’s breath stutters. “One day, I felt the weight of it all crushing me. My grief, my guilt…it all felt like too much and urgent. You know?”
She glances at me, so I nod, though I have no idea what she’s talking about.
“I thought about calling someone from back home, but it felt more desperate than that. Like I needed someone in person.”
“You could have asked me for help,” I whisper.
“You were part of my guilt. I couldn’t dump more on you than I already have. So, I called Chandra and she was at our front door, holding me in her arms within half an hour.”
I gape. “My Chandra,” I say for clarification.
Mom nods. “She’s been so wonderful.” Her gaze meets mine in panic. “You’ve been more wonderful, don’t get me wrong. I just couldn’t lay more on you.”
“Wow. That’s amazing, Mom. I’m glad for you. I truly am. You’ve made so much progress, and now I see why.”
“I’ve made progress because of you. For you. You are my world, baby girl. I need to get to a point where you know that again.”
“I know it.”
She shakes her head. “There’s no way you could know it with the way I’ve been. But you will. Can you ever forgive me?”
I physically jerk back. “I’m not mad at you, Mom. I understand.” I take a shuddering breath and stare up at the flapping canopy overhead while I blink away tears. “I understand.”
Mom still looks sad, but now there’s love in her expression. “You’ve been amazing through all of this. You’ve been strong and you’ve made such big decisions and handled so many difficult things.”
My chuckle comes out shaky and uncertain as I try to find my way back to a safer topic. “If I never drive a trailer cross-country again, it will be too soon.”
A tinge of hysteria warps Mom’s chuckle, but she nods enthusiastically. “You have been forced to grow up fast, and you’ve done it with grace and strength. I love you so much, but I admire you too. I’m going to try to be more like you.”
I slap my hand to my mouth. That feels like the ultimate compliment to come from my own mother. I nod, and when I can finally speak, I whisper, “Thank you, Mom.”
After we dry our tears, our conversation is lighthearted. She asks so many questions about what it’s like to be on set. All the questions I wanted her to ask originally. I have way too much fun sharing stories and making her laugh. I tell her about the hot photoshoot and show her the two pictures I have saved on my phone. We talk about dating, and she clearly defines all the times it is okay to say and mean, “No.”
As soon as we finish eating, I make the excuse that I have an early call time and rush to leave. I can see that her energy is flagging, and I don’t want her to feel like she’s the one who brought this fabulous outing to an end. On the way back to the car, I wrap my arm around her waist and tuck my head on her shoulder.
“Happy birthday, Arabelle.”
“Thank you, Mom.”
Chapter Thirty-One
I’m tryingon the wrap Mom loaned me to make sure it goes with my dress when there’s a knock at the door. I roll my eyes.
Yanking the door open, I say, “Will you never just text me that you’re…oh.”
It isn’t Crispin. Instead, it’s a lady. She’s wearing black slacks, a white blouse, and a black chauffeur’s cap. Her dark blond hair is pulled into a low bun. She looks very professional.
She grins at me. “Good evening, Miss Quill. My name is Belinda. I’ll be your driver tonight.”
My mouth flaps, and I look at her askance. “Uh…” I know. Very intelligent.
