As I mounted the steps, I mentally rehearsed the soothing words I could say to the woman who gave birth to me. I had a renewed appreciation for how she’d managed to start anew in order to give me a better life than she’d had. I’d always viewed my father as the strongest one in the family. Now, I knew different. She’d constructed her life to give me what she never had. Her defense mechanisms of never allowing people to get too close made complete sense to me now.
I rounded the banister and walked down the hall, which was lined with a blue and beige runner, past half a dozen doors, toward my parents’ room. All along the hallway were family photos. Some of mother’s equestrian years when she was younger had always been favorites. She gave it up after I was born, and I never understood why.
I tapped on one of the French doors, left slightly ajar, and slowly creaked it open. Mother was lying on her bed, on top of the covers, with one arm draped across her eyes and her long, slender legs crossed at the ankles. She didn’t stir as I entered the room. The entire scene looked like something from a painting. Mother certainly fit in this bedroom decorated in French countryside creams and blue floras.
“Come in, Lyla, dear.”
Softly I closed the door and made my way over to the bed. “Are you alright? I’m worried about you.”
She reached out with her hand and took mine as I sat. “Your mother is made of steel. It takes an awful lot to make me pliable, and it’s only when I expose myself to the right amount of heat.” She’d always told me that, and God, now not only did I believe her, but loved her even more for it.
“I hate that you’ve had to be that strong. I’m sorry life has forced you to harden.” I returned her squeeze.
She dropped her arm from her eyes, looking years older. “Don’t be.” She sat up against the pillows. “If I hadn’t walked through fire, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I’m sorry you saw my outburst. I never wanted a scandal or trauma to jade you.” She forced a smile, “My job, to protect you from such goings-on, has always been my priority. To give you a life I only ever dreamed of. Now, well, you see, there are fissures in my armor. Does that make you question everything I ever taught you?”
I lifted my chin and smiled, despite the ache deep within my chest, while I kept my eyes wide so I wouldn’t cry. “On the contrary. The difference between my childhood and yours is I’m strong because of how you raised me.” I smiled. “What my adult life has taught me is that sometimes life is messy, and you can control it about as much as you can control the wind.”
She laughed. A glorious tinkling kind of laugh that warmed me from the inside out. “Don’t I know it. Though, some of the trials can be prevented. Your father could have refused to treat Carol Timms.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “As you have complete control over which field you choose to work in, and you could be a little more cautious with the hobbies you engage in.”
I started to pull my hand away.
She held on with the strength of Samson. “Lyla, my path has been chosen, and I regret nothing. I’ve always wanted to be a wife and mother. To keep house and raise a well-adjusted child. To give her everything I never had growing up.”
I settled closer to her. “And I’m so grateful. Why won’t you ever let me in? Truly in? You know I love you and have always longed to be close to you. Yet, even now, you don’t confide in me about your past. Uncle Calvin doesn’t speak of it either. When I ask, he immediately shuts me down.”
Her eyes softened. “Dear, it would only bring heartache. Let the past stay where it should, buried. Neither my brother nor I desire to relive those days, especially not through your eyes.”
An awful thought ran through my mind. I wondered if there were any records of their past. Could it be as easy as a few strokes of the keyboard, and voila, enlightenment? Perhaps I’d understand her better. It might even bring us closer. Staring into my mother’s intelligent eyes, I decided, no, it wouldn’t. It would be a betrayal.
I nodded to let her know I agreed to let it drop. “Understood. But please don’t worry about me. I appreciate all you’ve given me. Trust you’ve raised a determined young woman who can make her own decisions and mistakes. Mistakes aren’t the end of the world. Like Gran says, it’s how we grow and learn. I want to make a difference. If I can affect change in even the smallest of ways, my life will mean something. Not only with Carol’s case but also all those Jane Does—”
“Lyla—”
“Please, listen to me.”
She sat back with a sigh and motioned for me to continue.
“I understand how disturbing my desire to investigate cases of dead women is to you and Daddy.” I gave my head a small shake and licked my lips as I groped for the words to reach her, to make her understand. “Those women couldn’t pull themselves out of the gutter, nor were some of them even given a chance to discover which path life would take them down. Their identities were stolen, and their lives simply erased. Someone has to care. I care.”
“And that’s so noble of you, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous and morbid sort of life to choose. I want more for you. I want happiness that comes from watching your child take her first steps and say her first words. The glorious sound of giggling on Christmas morning.” She had a faraway look in her eyes, as if remembering her time as a young mother.
“The life you gave me was akin to a fairy tale, and I’m so grateful.”
She shook her head, her gaze intense. “I’m not after gratitude. I’m advocating for you to reach your potential. For your life to be good. This dead club isn’t good. Your obsession with murder victims isn’t good.”
She loved me and meant well, but we would never see eye to eye on this matter.
I sighed. “I don’t want to cause you problems. Or to fuel rumors about our family.”
“That’s on your father at present. He’s aware of how I despise scandal.” She rubbed between her perfectly arched eyebrows with her index finger, and just like that, we were back in a familiar realm. “Please, honey. I understand you want to help those who need justice, and your friend is on that list now. Just be careful and give this club a rest. This isn’t one of your little games where you guess who the murderer is. This is real life with upstanding folks’ reputations on the line. Are you truly so naive you can’t see the danger you’re in?”
“Let’s just agree to disagree. This isn’t about my club or my decision to work for your brother. My friend is dead. Someone took her life and crumpled her up as if she were garbage. I’m no fool.”
Time to get real. “Could the fact that Carol was delivered to my house have been some sort of message? Sure. Likely even. Is that going to make me shy away from helping the authorities hunt down the SOB and lock him away? Not a chance.”
Mother pursed her lips, and I rose. At least she’d regained her strength. I’d accomplished that, at least.