A lump the size of a donut hole rested firmly in her throat. The last four hours at work crept by with interminable slowness, allowing her to think of little else besides the conversation about to take place with her mother. Unwilling to put it off any longer, she pushed the button next to the door frame, sending chimes of her impending doom reverberating throughout the house and her heart. I can do this. A conversation long overdue. Confidence didn't fill her, but enough found its way into her limbs to give her courage to remain at the door.
"Mel, so good to see you."
The breath she'd been holding left her lungs. "Dad, how are you?" She pulled him into a hug. "How's Mom?"
They separated, and he smiled. "Not planning to divorce me, so I'd say the Alexander charm is still alive and well."
She couldn't decide if his words made her happy or sad. He'd told her before his vows meant something. For better or worse. From her perspective, he'd certainly been given a lot more of the worse than the better when it came to his relationship with her mother. "As long as you're happy."
He smiled and kissed her on the forehead. "Happiness isn't a feeling, baby girl. It's a state of mind, a conscious decision. Though, seeing you here, uninvited, makes me experience the feeling as well."
"Maybe Mom will extend her good mood and not try to divorce me either." She offered a small smile. What kind of grown woman dreaded seeing her mother? This one, that's who.
"She's in her office. Go say your peace. This has gone on long enough between you two. You deserve to find your happy state of mind."
He pulled her into a hug—a gesture she knew with absolute certainty she never wanted to outgrow. "I love you."
"Love you too." Her father's tender gaze held hers. "She loves you too. Never forget that, Mel. Even if she has a tough time showing it. You know how she is."
She exhaled slowly. She knew.
Her steps were slow. Every nerve ending, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes, coordinated their efforts to reduce her stride and delay the inevitable. The confidence building in her since Tom's death and meeting Daniel provided hope. She inhaled and exhaled deeply. She was ready.
Stepping into the formal and imposing study, she soaked in the power and affluence that radiated not only off the woman sitting behind the mahogany desk but off every piece of furniture and art. Marie Alexander, certified public accountant, business owner, formidable adversary, and timeless beauty. Finding and grabbing hold of her courage before it slipped down her pant leg and ran like a scared child screaming from the room, she located her voice. "Everything about this study suits you, Mother."
Marie looked up from her papers and removed her glasses. "It should. I hand selected and decided on every detail."
Melodie nodded. "May I come in?"
At her mother's gesture, she took her first step into the lion's den. "I confess. I'm surprised to see you. Social visits from you aren't really the norm."
Don't take the bait. Stay calm. Be honest, even if it hurts. "I want to talk—really talk. About you, me, and our relationship."
Marie's eyes narrowed. "I try to talk to you on a regular basis. You never seem interested in listening."
Because lecturing isn't having a conversation. "I have listened. The problem is, I can't get you to listen to me."
The older woman reclined, crossing her arms and legs. "Please, enlighten me."
Inhale. Exhale. "For starters, I am not now nor will I ever be a good cook. Not because I can't learn, simply because I don't want to. I enjoy research. It's how I learn. I do love having my head in a book and dreaming as it allows me to escape the harsh realities of life—a life, I might add, created primarily by a mother who reminded me often of never being quite good enough. I chose to be a librarian because giving children a love of reading opens up an entire world for them. When they can read, they can accomplish anything."
One more breath in and out. Almost done. "Finally, I'd like to provide some reassurance you did not fail."
Her last statement brought Marie to the edge of her seat. "I beg your pardon. What makes you harbor some crazy notion I think I failed?"
Melodie shrugged her shoulders, the worst over now. Anything from this moment forward would merely repeat a road they'd traveled many times. She'd grown used to her mother's unrelenting lectures and lack of understanding. "You wanted me to be like you, just as Evelyn is. Despite all of your cajoling, threatening, and humiliation of me from a very young age, you couldn't make me like you. Instead of accepting and loving me for who I am which, by the way, is a decent, hardworking woman, you focus on your failure to hand select and control every detail of my life."
Okay, now the worst was over, for real this time—she hoped. The air in the immaculate study held a heavy combination of relief and tension. Perhaps, for the first time in her life, she'd found the courage to tell her mother the truth. And it doesn't even hurt that bad…yet.
"What is it you want from me?" Marie slouched, a move Melodie had rarely, if ever, seen.
"Honestly?"
Marie rolled her eyes and offered the slightest quirk of her mouth. "I'm fairly certain you've been brutally honest with me thus far. Why stop now?"
"I want you to be happy, Mom. Happy with Dad. Happy with me. Happy with the family life gave you. I told Evelyn last night, during her impromptu visit, all I've ever wanted is for you to have the same look of pride in your eyes when you think about me as you do for her. Not because I'm like her or you, but because you're proud of me."
"Happiness is a choice, a state of mind."
She smiled as her mother's words echoed her father's. Maybe they had more in common then they let on. "Is your state of mind happy?"
Sitting forward, Marie folded her hands and leveled an intense glare in Melodie's direction. "Answer me this, young lady. Are you happy?"
Be honest, even if it's hard. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, waiting for a full measure of courage to pour over her tongue and allow her to speak. "I haven't been. I think maybe Tom's death taught me life is short, and there are no guarantees. In an odd way, his passing gave me courage to find the happiness I deserve."
"And you think this Daniel is your key to happiness?"
She may not be good at reading people, but she'd had a lifetime of dealing with her mother. This trap could be sighted a mile away. Not this time, Mother. She offered a smile and a small shake of her head. "No, as you and Dad say, happiness is a state of mind, not a feeling. The way Daniel makes me feel when I'm around him serves as a catalyst for me to believe I can have and, most importantly, deserve happiness. I've never experienced such conviction before."
"About damn time. I knew you had it in you."
Wait. What? Why? With no idea the direction her mother's thoughts would take them, she kept quiet and waited.
"You were right, at least in part. I have wanted you to be more like me, but not how you think."
No idea, not a friggin' clue. "Enlighten me."
"You've always wanted to do things your own way, but you failed to see that my pushing you was to help you be the best you could possibly be. Instead of listening to my instruction or giving me valid reasons why your way was better, you just buried yourself in your own little world and settled."
"See, this is what I'm talking about. You keep wanting me to be Evelyn. She's the attorney, the one who would argue a fine point to death. That's not my style. Besides, despite what you want to believe, I don't want to argue with you."
Before she could continue, Marie lifted her perfectly manicured hand to stop the argument before she even got started.
"Let me tell you a story, give you an example of what I mean. My parents wanted me to get married, have kids and stay home, and be a June Cleaver wife."
The thought of her mom being a June Cleaver housewife was not only impossible, but highly entertaining. "They must've loved when you went off to college with dreams to start your own business."
"They hated every second and made no secret about it either. They harassed me the whole summer after graduation until I left for college. Before I left, I set them straight on why I made the choices I did." Marie stood and moved to the front of the desk, only inches away. "Once I did, they understood why I had to do what I did. They still didn't like it, but I worked hard to better myself. It's hard for them to argue with success. You've never stood up for yourself. Conviction sets us apart. Your sister and I have it, and, God help me, I've been trying to instill it in you. I may not like your choices. Hell, I pretty much hate them. Today is the first time you've even tried to set the record straight." Marie's eyes widened slightly and one eyebrow rose into a perfect arc. "I'll repeat it again, to make sure you understand. My job is to make you better."
"You know what the problem with your logic is, Mother?" She'd hoped she could get her to understand, but a lifetime of always believing she was right and the success to back it up kept the indomitable Marie Alexander from seeing this one important truth.
"There isn't any, but I'm curious as to where you think the flaw is."
"Who gets to define what makes a person better? I know your definition works for you and Ev, but it doesn't work for me. I measure success, not from money or the number of plaques and certificates on my wall, but with the impact I can have on people's lives. My idea of better is instilling in children the belief that they can be whatever or whoever they want to be, regardless of what anyone else thinks. Our talk today has prompted me to be better in one area though."
Marie blinked rapidly for a few moments, but the firm set of her jaw and non-smiling arc of her mouth remained unchanged. "And what is that?"
"It is important to stand up for myself. I'm not going to argue with you about my choices, but if you really want to understand why I'm doing something, I promise to answer honestly if you ask me. As for everything else, maybe we can call a temporary truce and agree to disagree?" She really wanted to find at least a small measure of peace in the relationship with her mother. Better late than never.
Marie offered the smallest hint of a smile and a slight nod. "Temporary truce. Let's have a cup of tea, and you can tell me more about this young man serving as a catalyst to your happiness."