the belt freeze up.
I was working a ton, trying to keep tabs on Gabe through Mark and Alex—I was determined to keep him away from her permanently, even if she didn’t know I was doing it—and I was spending a lot of time with the boys, licking my wounds. Even though Shaw had been upset with me for trying to change, to be better for her, I think I had effected some major changes on my own, in spite of myself, and that wasn’t bad. I was allowing myself to feel everything, and while the feelings tied up in the failure of my relationship with Shaw burned, at least I was processing them and not drowning them in bad habits.
I was getting ready to say good-bye when footsteps crunching on the thin layer of snow still covering the ground made me lift my head up. I felt my eyes narrow involuntarily and the corners of my mouth pull down when I recognized the figure making her way toward me. Every instinct I had was to get out of there before she could ruin my day, but I stayed put because she was looking right at me, and for once, there wasn’t contempt or hatred shining out of her eyes.
“Mom.”
“Happy birthday, Rule.”
I cleared my throat because I had no clue what to say to her. I knocked my knuckles on the hard headstone and gave my brother a silent good-bye. “I’ll take off so you can have some time with him. I’m sure today is hard for you.”
I nearly fell over when she reached out a hand and put it on my forearm. My mom hadn’t touched me voluntarily in years and it was enough to stun me into silence.
“It’s hard for all of us, but that’s not why I’m here. I actually called your work to see if I could maybe take you to lunch for your birthday. I figured you wouldn’t answer if I called your cell, so I asked your roommate where I might find you and he pointed me here. I guess if I hadn’t been so busy trying to shut you out all these years, I might have figured that out on my own.”
I took a step away from her because I was pretty sure aliens had abducted my mom and that this creature before me wasn’t real. The things coming out of her mouth were almost too much for me to take in. “Where’s Dad?”
“Home. He’s working on getting through to your brother, and after all that’s happened, I needed to be the one to come to you. Can I take you to lunch or maybe for coffee?”
I didn’t want to go. I didn’t trust her or her motivations but it was my birthday and we were standing at my dead brother’s grave, so turning her down just didn’t seem like a viable option or one I could live with later on.
“Coffee would be all right.” She gave me a smile that was sad. I mean, really, truly sad, and I realized for the first time that my mom had a dark tunnel she disappeared into as well, that maybe it was a trait I’d learned from her. We walked back to the parking lot in silence and I followed her back to Brookside, even though all I wanted to do was keep driving back to Denver. We stopped at the Starbucks I always hit, and I let her buy me a coffee while I settled into a semi-secluded corner and stretched out my legs. I could tell she was nervous, so I tried to relax and not be as guarded as I always was around her.
“I’ve been talking to a specialist. Your dad found someone here in town who deals with grief and family issues. I think it’s been really helpful.”
I blinked. “That’s a change.”
She smiled ruefully and I caught a glimpse of the woman who had raised me before our relationship had been tainted with tragedy.
“After the way things went at dinner, your dad had reached his breaking point. It was go and get help or watch my husband of thirty-six years walk away from me. Dale has always been the only constant in my life. I wouldn’t make it without him and it took realizing how alone I would be if he walked out the door to make me see what I’ve done to my family.”
I could only stare at her in shock. I didn’t know what to say or do so I just kept sipping on my coffee and watching her.
“You asked me how I could love Remy, knowing how different he was while I always had such a hard time with you, and I want to try to explain things. It’s not an excuse; our relationship has never been easy. We’ve never been as close as I was with your brother and it started when you were both born. You guys were early, which is pretty common with twins, only you came out strong and healthy, bawling your little head off; Remy wasn’t so lucky. He had his cord around his neck and was breech. It took a lot of work and effort to get him here alive, and well, from the start I think I focused more on him than on you, which makes me a terrible mother but doesn’t mean I didn’t love you both. Remy breast-fed; you wanted a bottle, and when you were both old enough to walk, Remy held on to my fingers and tottered all over the house, but you pulled yourself up using Rome as a lever and then just took off on your own. Your brother always needed me, always wanted me, and you, well, you were like you are now: independent, fierce, and determined to blaze your own way in the world, and I just let you go. Your dad and I both just let you slip away.”
I was having a hard time breathing but I was so focused on what she was saying that it didn’t seem to matter. “When Remy brought Shaw home I was so excited. He hadn’t ever shown any interest in other girls, and meanwhile your dad caught at least one girl a week sneaking out of your window. We were starting to put the pieces together about him, but I was convinced he was just waiting for the right girl, and Shaw had it all—she’s lovely, well educated, comes from money. It never occurred to me that she was too delicate, too broken down by her own family to be with someone as gentle and sweet as Remy. She needed someone strong, someone not afraid of all the things that tormented her day in and day out, so of course she picked you. She’s loved you forever. I saw it, your dad saw it, and even with that we let Remy use her and snow everyone into thinking they were an item because it was just easier than dealing with the truth.”
She stopped fidgeting with her cup and met my stunned gaze. She had tears in her eyes, which were nothing new, but for once these seemed generated by actual regret, not overbearing anger and blame directed at me.
“The night of Remy’s accident he called me. I knew he was on his way to pick you up and I told him not to go, that you were a grown man who could find his own way home. He got really mad at me, told me I needed to get over whatever it was that kept me from embracing you, from loving you as openly and fully as I loved him. I got angry back and told him he had no place to lecture me on how I interacted with you if he was going to keep living a lie. We had a huge fight. It was ugly and I threatened him. I told him I was going to let you and Rome know exactly who their brother was and he freaked out. He hung up and left to get you, and those were the last words I said to my baby.”
She was crying openly now and all I could do was sit there and let everything she said flow over me.
“I said it should have been you—I put all my grief and responsibility on your shoulders because I was too weak to be accountable for my part in what happened to Remy. Out of all of us, you’re the strongest and you’re the one who handled it the best. It was easier to blame you than to look at you and realize what I had done. You never loved me the way Remy did and the further away I pushed you the easier it was to feel less guilt. I’m sorry I did it; you never deserved it. I felt like you were already lost to me so the idea of losing you wasn’t as crippling as it was with Rome, but I realize now you were never lost—I had just shoved you as far and as hard away as I could, and that’s not healthy or acceptable.”
We sat in silence while I tried to work through all of it. I couldn’t just accept her apology; too much time and too many hurtful words and actions had been exchanged for that. But I could recognize that we were all human and prone to making careless mistakes with people we cared about, and that we could try to work toward a resolution from
