Page 86 of Adrift

She swivels her head so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t roll off her neck. “Silver lining? You want me to look at the silver lining when my husband is fighting for his life? You want me to look at the silver lining when I’ve lost more than anyone should in a lifetime?”

I watch two other people in the waiting room, who had been speaking softly until now, shift on their seats. Yeah, welcome to the show, folks. She’s just winding up.

“That’s not what I meant,” I hedge, trying to calm my mother down. It’s no use repeating history and telling her that she ‘lost’ Sonia a decade ago and that she had that same decade to make amends with her–they both did. It’s no use telling her that she’s not the only one who lost; we all did.

“And what do you even care about silver linings? Huh? All you’ve cared about for the past month and a half is yourself–selfishly frolicking off to Tahoe to ‘take care of Arman.’” She puts air quotes around the last words, as if insinuating I had any other reason to go to Tahoe, and it pisses me off.

I sharpen my gaze on her, having had enough of her derision. “What does that mean? I have been taking care of Arman. And I’ve been doing a damn good job of it!”

She huffs out a high-pitched laugh. “You’ve also been doing a damn good job of having an affair with your brother-in-law.”

The two people in the seats near us get up and leave the waiting room, probably cringing at even having heard a part of our conversation.

I can’t decide whether I should laugh or cry. We’re sitting here, on a day when we should be reflecting on the fact that everything could have been worse–a lot worse–but instead, all my mother can seem to do is find a way to goad me into a fight.

I’m done.

I’m done mincing my words, done thinking about her feelings and respecting her views.

Just done.

“Alright, Mom. You want to do this here? Then let’s do it.” My lips tremble the way they always do when my temper starts rising. I can tell I’m seconds from losing control, and I need to rein it in. It doesn't happen often, but my mother has a way of bringing it out. “First, it’s not called an affair when the wife is deceased–”

My mom gasps.

“Second, I didn’t frolic off to take care of Arman. Unlike you, I stepped up to the plate. I’ve always stepped up, whether it was to take care of myself when you and Dad barely remembered you still had a pre-teen daughter to take care of when Sonia left the house or when I needed to take care of my nephew because you know what? That’s what I do. I move forward. I keep going, and I try to help others keep going. And, yes, I look at the silver linings. So don’t talk to me about being selfish, because that is the one thing I can unequivocally say I’m not, and the one thing I can decisively say you are.”

She tries to speak but I bulldoze over her. “From the way you treated Sonia–constantly trying to mold her into someone she wasn’t–to the way you shut down Dad’s every attempt to speak, treating him like an invalid rather than a person, to the times you’ve made fun of my weight, my outfits, my hair! You’ve compared me to Sonia or Bella or basically anyone else, just to make me feel awful about myself when I’ve done nothing to you but be born as your daughter.”

My mother’s mouth quivers as my words pierce her heart, but I’m well past the point of caring. I’m well past the point of tiptoeing around her feelings. It’s my damn turn to speak and it’s about damn time I did.

“You think it’s been easy for Dad, having been caught in the middle of you and Sonia? Having lost his daughter because both your egos were too big to fit in one room together? Do you think it’s been easy for me to grow up without the sister I used to have? Do you know how many times I’ve wondered if you lost the wrong daughter, because of the poisonous words you’ve hurled at me? It’s sad how many times I’ve wondered if it would have been better if I was the one who died instead of her. Wondered whether you would have been happier.”

“Rani!” my mother sobs, placing her hands over her mouth. Tears–streams of sincere and painful tears–rush down her face as her sob turns into a heave. “Please.”

But I continue, unperturbed, taking in a shaky breath as my eyes pool. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked to not let your words sink deep into my soul? Do you know how tiring it has been to not let all those people who have hurt me chip away at my core? Time and time again, your words have cut me open, and time and time again, I’ve stitched up my wounds. Do you have any idea how many scars you’ve left?”

I clutch the sob waiting inside my chest. “So, no. You don’t get to tell me I’m selfish or fat or any of the awful things you think you should say because it’s your fucked-up version of reverse psychology and you think it’ll somehow mold me into the version of me you want. Because I won’t let you.” My mother cries, sobbing into her hand as I wipe the tears streaming down my face. “And I say this with only love for you, but also with love for myself . . .. If you can’t mold yourself into being a better mother to me, then you’ll lose me, too. Because I’m done, Mom.”

My mother cries without holding back as I sob into my hand.

When we’ve both managed to regain a tiny bit of composure, she tries to speak again. “I might have done all those things you’ve mentioned . . ..” She looks at my face and takes back her words. “I know I’ve hurt you, and it’s clear to me how much I didn’t consider from your perspective. But Rani, I have never, in my entire life, wished for you to have died in place of Sonia. I wouldn’t wish the loss of even one child on my greatest enemy. But I see now maybe I haven’t been very fair to you.”

I glance at her, my body still reeling from the monumental unpacking and discarding of pain it had been holding on to. “No, you haven’t.”

Her frown etches into her face while her lips tremble and she looks down at the armrest between us. “I’m sorry, Rani. I’m truly sorry.”

I don’t respond, wiping my nose with the back of my hand, and my mother wordlessly takes out a few tissues from her purse. She hands me one as we both sit, silently absorbing all that’s been said between us.

I sniffle, turning to her and dropping another bomb that I’m ready to explode between us, because if it’s not now, then it’s never . “I’m in love with Darian.”

Mom’s eyes shut for a moment before she puts a crushed tissue to her mouth, staring straight ahead. “I knew this was coming.”

“I’m sorry if you disagree, Mom. But if you knew him, if you ever cared to get to know him, you’d understand why.” I pause. “Sonia didn’t make a mistake when she chose to follow her heart for him. He’s hard-working, sincere, and so incredibly devoted, and I know exactly why she fell for him.” I lick my chapped lips. “It’s the same reason I’ve fallen for him, and I’ll never regret following my heart.”

My mother finally turns to me, nodding. I see a reluctant surrender in her eyes, but it’s the most I can hope for given the circumstances. She’s trying–whether she wants to or not, at least she’s trying. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose another daughter.” Her eyes swim inside tears again. “I almost lost my husband, too. I . . . I don’t want to be alone.”

My heart feels heavy in my chest. “Then don’t be.” I grab her hand. “I don’t want you to be alone, but we can’t live like this, either.”

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