Chapter 4 - The Mother Who Was Afraid to Lose Her Place
Tessa didn't answer immediately.
Behind her, the toaster clicked.
Elijah looked up from his bowl of cereal.
"Why is everybody sad?"
Nicole turned toward him.
"Nobody's mad at you, Eli."
He looked between them.
"Did I do something?"
Tessa crossed the kitchen and kissed his forehead.
"No, baby. You haven't done anything wrong."
She asked him to take his breakfast into the living room.
He hesitated, then picked up his bowl and left.
Nicole waited until he was gone.
"Tell me the truth."
Tessa gripped the back of a chair.
"I met your mother through a sewing group."
Nicole said nothing.
"She had started volunteering there after her divorce. We worked on donated clothes for families who needed them."
Tessa glanced toward the photograph.
"She was funny. Kind. She talked about you constantly."
Nicole felt tears threatening again.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because by the time I married Marcus, things between your parents had become so painful that I didn't know how to explain my connection to her."
"That doesn't make sense."
Tessa nodded.
"I know."
She sat down.
"When I first met your father, I didn't tell him I'd known Ava. I was afraid he'd think I had some connection to the arguments they were having."
Nicole remained standing.
"And later?"
"Later, I was afraid to admit I'd been hiding it."
Tessa rubbed her hands together.
"Your mother reached out to me three years ago. She knew I'd married Marcus. She asked if you were okay."
Nicole stared at her.
"What did you say?"
"I told her you were doing well in school. That you had friends. That you were happy."
"Did you tell her I missed her?"
Tessa's eyes filled.
"No."
Nicole's voice cracked.
"Why?"
Tessa pressed her lips together.
"Because you had finally started calling me Mom sometimes."
The words seemed to change the air in the room.
Nicole stepped back.
Tessa continued.
"When you first came to live with me, you barely spoke. You stayed in your room. You didn't want help with homework. You wouldn't let me wash your clothes."
Nicole remembered those days.
She had been eleven when Marcus brought Tessa into their home.
Nicole had refused to call her anything but Tessa.
She'd been angry whenever her father asked her to be polite.
But Tessa had been patient.
She had learned how Nicole liked her sandwiches.
She remembered her school schedule.
When Nicole got her first period unexpectedly during a field trip, Tessa had driven forty minutes to bring her clean clothes.
Slowly, Nicole had begun trusting her.
One evening, without thinking, she'd called Tessa "Mom."
Tessa had cried in the laundry room afterward.
Nicole knew because she'd heard her.
Tessa looked up.
"I was afraid if Ava came back, you'd stop needing me."
Nicole stared at her.
"So you kept her away?"
Tessa shook her head.
"No. I didn't stop her from calling. But when she asked whether you wanted to see her, I told her I thought you weren't ready."
"You didn't ask me."
"No."
"You didn't even try."
Tessa began crying.
"I know."
Nicole's hands curled into fists.
"You made a decision about my life because you were afraid I wouldn't love you anymore."
Tessa nodded.
The admission was almost worse than another lie.
Nicole had spent years wondering whether she was worth loving.
Now she understood that one adult had loved her enough to become possessive, but not enough to tell her the truth.
"Why did Mom give you the dress?"
Tessa wiped her face.
"She was moving to a smaller apartment. She couldn't keep everything she'd saved. She wanted you to have something from her wedding, even if you never wore it."
"And the letter?"
"She asked me to give it to you when you turned sixteen. She hoped you'd be old enough to decide for yourself whether to contact her."
Nicole shook her head.
"I turned sixteen five weeks ago."
"I know."
"Why didn't you give it to me?"
Tessa whispered, "Because I kept telling myself I needed one more day."
Nicole sat down across from her.
The anger in her chest had become too heavy to carry standing up.
"You should've trusted me."
Tessa began to answer, then stopped.
"You're right."
At that moment, Marcus entered the kitchen.
He had heard the last few sentences.
He looked at Tessa.
"Did you tell Ava that Nicole didn't want contact?"
Tessa lowered her head.
"Yes."
Marcus stared at her.
"After everything I told you about what happened between Ava and me?"
"You told me you thought Nicole needed stability."
"That doesn't mean you had the right to keep a letter from her."
Tessa looked up sharply.
"And you had the right to tell Ava that Nicole didn't want to see her?"
Marcus went silent.
Tessa's words were harsh.
But they were true.
Nicole looked from one adult to the other.
For years, both had told themselves they were protecting her.
Neither had trusted her with the truth.
Marcus slowly pulled out a chair.
"Nicole, I need to say something."
She folded her arms.
He looked directly at her.
"I was wrong when I told your mother you didn't want to see her. I was angry, and I thought I was keeping you from more disappointment."
He swallowed.
"I knew you missed her. I should have told her that."
Nicole's eyes filled.
"And I should have told you that she was trying."
Tessa covered her face.
Marcus looked at his wife.
"What you did was wrong, too."
"I know."
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Nicole stood.
"I want both of you to stop deciding what I can handle."
Marcus nodded.
Tessa whispered, "Okay."
Nicole picked up the photograph.
"I'm meeting Mom on Saturday."
Marcus looked startled.
"So soon?"
Nicole turned toward him.
"That's exactly what I mean."
He fell silent.
She continued.
"I'm not asking permission to love her."
Marcus looked down.
"You're right."
Nicole walked toward the stairs.
Halfway up, she heard Elijah call from the living room.
"Nicole?"
She turned.
He stood in the doorway clutching a toy dinosaur.
"Are you leaving us?"
Nicole's heart broke a little.
She walked back down and knelt in front of him.
"No, Eli."
"Promise?"
She hugged him.
"You're my brother. That doesn't change."
He wrapped his small arms around her neck.
Nicole closed her eyes.
May you like
She wished the adults who loved her had understood something so simple.
Loving one person didn't mean she had to stop loving another.
