“You’re not in a funk,” my mom pointed out a few days after the anniversary of my father’s death and one day after Carter momentarily tried to change me. She tended to handle me with kid gloves for about a week after that day, even though neither of us ever mentioned anything. I never said anything to her because I didn’t want to upset her. She had gone on to live her life, and I didn’t want to mess that up for her. She didn’t say anything to me because she didn’t want to set me off. I usually did a good job of that on my own.
It was only after about a week, give or take, that she’d ask me how I was doing. She still didn’t mention my dad, but the implication was always there.
Her words caught me off-guard this time. “Uh, what?” I asked, stopping my coffee midway to my mouth.
“Sweetheart, I know we don’t talk about it, which is fine with me, but you can’t say you haven’t noticed, year after year, what this week is like for us. We tiptoe around each other, avoiding the subject and pretending we’re okay, but you know we aren’t ever truly all right. Most of the time, you’re a zombie, a shell of what you usually are, and frankly, Em, that’s saying a lot. But the past few days have been normal. No, better than normal. You’ve been someone completely different for the last month. You’ve been your old self. My baby girl.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered defensively.
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Your father would be happy to see you like this.”
I gasped in response. She rarely brought up my father and especially not this time of year. “I’m not talking about this. I can’t … can we please not—”
“This is a good thing, sweetheart,” she cut me off. “You needed this. You needed to wake up and see that life is worth living, that the world is still going round, and that the things that were beautiful are still beautiful. You’re doing that. Slowly, but you’re doing that. I can see the change in you. And you don’t understand how it thrills me.” She choked up on the last sentence as I watched a lone tear trail down her cheek.
As she walked up to me, I sat still, waiting to see what she’d do, what she’d say. She lifted her hands and gently pushed the sides of the wig I was wearing away from my face. “I see you, Em. I’ve always seen you. You can hide behind ridiculous clothes and horrible wigs, but you can’t hide how beautiful you are on the inside. You’re a wonderful person, sweetheart. What happened with your father doesn’t change that. If anything, the guilt you feel, the remorse that courses through your veins as if it was your life force, just emphasizes how special you truly are. No one who was ugly on the inside could feel those emotions. They’d just not care.” She paused and dropped the wig as she wiped at her tears. I didn’t dare speak. She took a breath and continued, “Your father saw that in you. That’s why he loved you so much. That’s why he wanted you close to him so he could feed off the love inside you. You can’t switch that off, Em. You can’t just turn off the person you are because life stole from you. You can bury yourself, you can push people away, you can change how you look, but you can’t change you. And believe it or not, no matter what kind of life you’ve been living for the past twelve years, you’re still you inside.”
“But I’m ugly inside,” I whispered, tears threatening to make their way down my face.
“You’re anything but,” my mom said as she pulled me into a hug. “And it’s about time you realized that,” she said against my hair. “Don’t fight it, baby girl. Whatever has been happening this past month, let it happen.”
“I don’t know how. I’ve been living like this for half my life.”
“You’re already doing it. And it’s because of this guy, isn’t it?” she asked with a knowing smile as she pulled away.
“We’re just friends,” I told her.
“I don’t care if he’s the pope and you’re Jewish. Ever since he’s come into your life, you’ve been glowing.”
“I guess it’s nice to have someone who isn’t obligated to care about me actually care about me,” I admitted.
“If you opened yourself up, Em, you’d have a million people caring about you. How could they not?”
“You have to say that. You’re my mom,” I said with a forced laugh.
“As your mom, I have to tell you the truth. If I don’t, who will?”
“Carter is pretty good at telling me the truth,” I mumbled.
“I like this Carter guy. He’s good for you.” She smiled.
“He’s arrogant and pushy, and he thinks he’s God gift to women.”
“You like him,” she stated.
“Of course, I like him, or I wouldn’t be friends with him.” I had the urge to roll my eyes.
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” she teased.
“Mom.” I said her name with annoyance, and this time, I did roll my eyes. “Aside from the fact that no matter what you or Carter say, I can’t change my ways overnight, which means no romantic connections for me. You’d think you’d be grateful I have a couple of friends,” I said with an added, “Sheesh,” at the end. “Aside from that, Carter is in no way interested in me.”
“He spends an awful lot of time with a girl he’s not interested in.”
“He considers me one of the guys.”
“Then show him you’re not.”
“I don’t want to. I just want to be one of his friends, nothing more.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I already said I don’t want any relationship stuff,” I told her.
“Okay, fine, put that aside. Let’s say you did. Why not him?”
“He’s not attracted to me.”
“He would be if he saw the real you,” she retorted.
“I don’t want someone who’s shallow,” I tossed back.
“Fine, fine,” she said as she held up her hands defensively. “But he’d have to be really blind not to see what’s underneath this getup, Em. So humor me and say he’s attracted to you.”
“He’s not.”
“I said humor me. Now, why not him?”
“The list is too long,” I responded.
“Give me a few reasons then,” she said as she leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.
“He shows up unannounced all the time. He texts me over and over if I don’t respond immediately. He tricks me into getting his way constantly. He has no filter sometimes, and honesty isn’t always the best policy. He is too good looking for his own good, and he knows it. No guy that does is good news. He forced his way into my life. He is a major player. Oh, and did I mention that he’s not attracted to me?” I added.
“Oh, what a horrible list,” my mom said sarcastically. “Contacting you too much and wanting to spend time with you. And he’s good looking too, what a crime. I see what you mean. The guy is trouble. You should stay far, far away from him,” she teased.
“He’s needy!” I tossed back.
“A guy who wants your attention. Shame on him.”
“He treats me the same way he treats his friends,” I responded, frustrated with the one-eighty direction this talk had turned.
“Oh, heaven forbid he trusts you the same way he trusts his closest pals. Oh, the horror.”
“You’re not funny, Mom.”
“And you’re not logical, daughter,” she said straight-faced.
“I see what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. I’m not changing myself for anyone. And Carter doesn’t want me. Not that I want him.” I felt the need to add that last sentence, but maybe more for my benefit than my mom’s.
“It doesn’t sound like he wants you to change from the way he is with you.”
“He wanted me to change yesterday!” I said a little too loudly.
“He what?” my mom screeched this time, her voice turning to anger. I replayed the conversation we had the night before, and I could see my mom’s face softening with each detail.
“He truly cares about you, Em,” she said softly after I was done. “Don’t let him get away. You’ll regret it.”
“I don’t know that I have a choice,” I responded. Once our deals were over, I wasn’t sure where we would stand. After my cousin’s wedding, would he still want to be my friend?
“You always have a choice. Even when it seems like the universe has made the choices for us, we still have a say. So let the universe hear your voice.”
“We’ll see,” I told her. “We’ll see,” I repeated as I hugged her. “Now, I really have to get to work, and so do you. Love you,” I said as I held on to her.
“Love you too, baby girl.”