54
Tamara woke from her nap, wondering if she was in a dream. The confrontation with Remo seemed like a bad one. Now awake, the despicable incident was behind her. She felt better entering the living area. Don was reclining on the sofa reading a newspaper.
“I see that you’re up. How are you feeling?”
“Better, I think. Was I dreaming earlier or did we actually have a fight with Remo?”
“We had a fight.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said, sliding down along the couch to the floor. “I’ve created an awful nightmare, haven’t I?”
“The only mistake you made was trying to handle Remo on your own. Tamara, you have chosen to be isolated from the Mitchells but the reality is, we’re family. I keep telling you that when you have a problem, Mother and I have one too. We’re not your enemies.”
“I know you’re not, but I’ve spent so much time avoiding my issues. I figured if I stayed away from the environment, I’d be able to forget about them and move on. Hasn’t worked as well as I wanted, clearly.”
“It’s not too late for us to deal with our challenges and get on about the business of enjoying these lives that God has entrusted to us. I refuse to waste any more time angry at this family member and that one. It’s pointless,” Don told her.
“You’re right,” she said, toying with fibers in the floor rug. “I don’t want to waste any more time either.”
“You might as well know that I called Mother and filled her in on what happened. Before you bite my head off for calling her, I want you to know that I truly believe she deserved the call. She’s been a good mother. I didn’t say ‘perfect,’ but Mother has done the best she could for us. That’s why I can accept her the way she is.”
“You know how demanding she can be.”
“You bet I know, but she means well. So if you’re going to run away, you better get going, because she’ll be here by tomorrow. She wants to see you as soon as she arrives.”
Tamara wasn’t opposed. As a matter of fact, she was relieved to have Madeline coming home. “For so many years I felt like I didn’t need a mother if it had to be bossy Madeline.” Tamara kept picking at the rug fibers, suddenly drawn back to age six. “Sitting here in this position, feeling helpless about Remo, makes me glad to have a mother like Madeline. I know she will fix this.”
“Yes, I can imagine she’s going to get heavily involved, let me put it that way.”
“Normally I’d protest but not after today. If I ever want to walk the streets without having to look over my shoulder for Remo, I need to accept her help.”
“Can’t hurt, or at least I hope not.” Don laughed and so did she.
Maybe it was time to really deal with her mother and form a new relationship—not necessarily rekindle what was tarnished when she was seventeen years old, but establish a new normal she was willing to accept.