he was out of sight. I held on to her and patted her back, hoping to make her feel better. She had done the same for me, and it always seemed to comfort me. She finally stopped outside of the little bakery about a block from our apartment.
“How would you like a cupcake, Juliet?”
“Could I have a pink one?”
“If pink is what you want, pink is what you will get.”
Pink was always my favorite color.
We both smiled, and she took me inside. We spent the rest of the evening eating cupcakes and walking up and down the sidewalk. My mother taught me about the leaves on the trees. She explained photosynthesis and how to identify a tree by its leaves. I listened carefully and committed it to my memory, even though I was only four. The things she said, little things she would teach me, were always so important to me. I didn’t want to forget anything she said, my poor beautiful mother. If anyone deserved something good in life, it was her…
Many calls came from Liam over the next several weeks. I knew it was him by my mother’s reaction. She would talk very low, almost a whisper. Then once she had finished the conversation, she would become very quiet and faraway. I would try to help by hugging her and telling her how much I loved her. This always pulled her back. She would hold me and stroke my hair.
Then one day, there was a knock at the door. A man handed my mother some papers and requested her signature. She paced the floor as she read them. Then called me to her after she had finished, sitting me on her lap. “Juliet, do you remember the man we met a few weeks ago?”
“Yes, Mommy.”
“That man is your father, Juliet.”
“Why?”
“Well, baby, that’s because I loved him very much a long time ago. Because I loved him so much, I was given you.”
“Did he give me to you?”
“Yes, yes, Juliet, he did. And now he wants to be your daddy. He wants you to come see him sometimes. Maybe stay with him for a little bit. But don’t worry. You and I will always be together. Spending time with him won’t change that.”
I believed her. I saw in her eyes that she meant every word she said. My mother had no choice but to let Liam into our lives. He would arrive every Saturday morning with his wife Angela to collect me. They would take me to their apartment where Angela would dress me up like I was some kind of doll. Often dressing me to match whatever she was wearing. I had fine clothes at Liam’s. But they would always change me back into the clothes my mother had either made for me or bought from a secondhand store, before returning me to her.
Angela was nice enough. She never mistreated me. She insisted that I call her Mommy. Instead, I made it a point to call her Angela. I had one mother and would not betray her by calling this other woman mommy. I made up my mind not to like Angela for my mother’s sake. I took every opportunity to act out at her expense. I would throw temper tantrums in the stores and restaurants that she took me to. Then cry uncontrollably when she tried to correct me. This was all an act, mind you. I did it for my mother. Not because she asked me to but because I owed it to her. I wanted to cause these two as much misery as they had caused her. Liam would plead with me to behave. He would bribe me with anything my heart desired. I could feel the rebellion well up in me when I was with them. I did nothing to try and hold it back. I did not want them to be happy when I knew my mother was at home, sad and alone. I had hoped that my behavior would become so unbearable that they would forego our weekends and let me stay with my mom. That never happened. Instead, Liam decided that I needed to see a child psychologist. My mother refused. So he got a court order. Then I was forced to go and see Dr. Ryder every Thursday. Which meant more time away from my mother. I was informed by Dr. Ryder that I could tell him anything, and he had to keep it a secret. And that the time I spent in his office was just between the two of us. So I came clean.
“I just want to stay with my mom.”
“I see. So you prefer to be with your mother?”
“Yes. I only act bad so they won’t want me anymore.”
“So your father and Angela won’t want you?”
“Yes. That way, I can stay with my mom. I am just pretending when I throw fits and cry.”
“I see. Well that’s very clever, Juliet. But I don’t think it’s going to work.”
“Why?”
“Because your father has brought you here. Which means he cares enough about you to find out why you are unhappy. That means that he loves you.”
“I don’t care if he loves me. I love my mom.”
“It is okay to love your dad too. That doesn’t mean you love your mom less.”
“I don’t even know him.”
“I understand, Juliet. This is why it is good for you to spend time with him and Angela. Maybe you could just give them a chance.”
I continued to see Dr. Ryder every Thursday for the next six months. I decided to give up the act so that I could have my Thursdays back with my mom. I let up on Liam and Angela. Liam felt that my newfound good behavior was the result of my therapy sessions. He made a point of telling my mother that he had been right to seek professional help. I would later let my mother in on the whole conspiracy and reassure her that I never really had any emotional problems.
* * * * *
My mother was the live-in housekeeper/nanny to the Blumenfeld’s. They were both doctors. They had two children, both girls. Mother took care of their children, Rebekah and Rachel, and cleaned their home. In return, we were provided with the studio apartment over the old carriage house that now served as a garage for their classic car collection. My mother worked hard all day cleaning while the Blumenfeld’s children were at school. Then she would pick them up, help them with homework, and make dinner. We often ate dinner with them. The Blumenfeld’s were usually home by six o’clock. Then she would be off until seven the next morning. But the time in between belonged to us. She would read to me short stories she had written while she combed the tangles from my unruly hair. Then we would lie in our full-size bed, and she would hold me, telling me how much she loved me, and I would fall asleep in her arms.
I loved my mother. She was the best person I ever knew.
* * * * *
Liam decided that I would go to the school of his choice, since he was paying my tuition. So I was sent to an all-girls Catholic school, Holy Trinity, until I was in the eighth grade. Then I was transferred to a finishing school, St. Mary’s Sacred Heart. I hated it—the nuns, the uniforms, and all the religious dogma. Hated it. But I dealt with it for my mother’s sake. Liam blamed my mother for any poor behavior I displayed. So, for her sake, I was the model student.
My mother continued to work for the Blumenfeld’s and began taking night classes once I was in my senior year. I took an interest in the performing arts. Singing and theater became my passion. My first job was at a local café not far from our apartment. My coworkers pretty much consisted of other actors. We all looked out for one another and helped each other find auditions in the area. By the time I graduated high school, I had landed a few short roles in small stage productions. Liam and Angela bought me a powder-blue VW bug for my eighteenth birthday. I decided
