Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) (89 page)

“And you did?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “Not right away. I was still wary. I wanted him to prove his dedication. To show that he didn’t want you to suffer the way I had. He begged to see you. I said no. He’d left us once, left me on my own to raise you. He just thought he could show up nine years after and pop back into our lives as if nothing had ever gone wrong?”

“Wait,
nine
years?” I ask. “I remember that summer at his cabin. I was twelve!”

“What, you think I took him back right away? Hell no. I couldn’t just forgive him like that.” She snaps her fingers. “No matter how much, on the inside, I wanted to,” she adds softly.

“So you made him wait three
years
?” I ask in disbelief. This is new to me. I’d assumed, from the story Paul told, that it happened right away.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I was with another guy at the time,” she says. “What was his name? Harry, Henry, Hank… something like that.” She laughs, looks at the remains of her cigarette, shrugs, and takes one more from the box. She lights it. “What an example I am. Your mother, the whore.”

“Mom!” I exclaim. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” she asks. “It’s true, isn’t it? How many men have you seen me bring home over the years? No, no, don’t answer. But don’t pretend it hasn’t affected you, either. Some impression it must have made. I’ve come to terms with most things in my life. Sobriety…forced me to face all of them. I couldn’t hide from myself any more. The only thing I truly regretted—and this comes from the heart, Lilly—is how badly I fucked things up with you.”

“No,” I say. “Mom, it wasn’t your fault. It—”

She frowns at me, showing her skepticism.

“It wasn’t
entirely
your fault,” I hedge. “I played my part, too.”

“Do you remember the fight we had?” she asks. The tip of her cigarette goes bright as she breathes through it.

“Which one?” I ask with a crooked smile.

She chuckles. “There were a lot, weren’t there? I’m sorry. I know it was—oh, this is your favorite word—
irresponsible
of me. No, the one I’m talking about is our first big one. The one that made you run away from home. The one where you said you wouldn’t keep working.”

“The one where I said you should stop drinking,” I add softly.

“Yes,” she nods. “That one. It’ took me a long time to work up the courage to accept the things you told me then, Lilly. I knew you were right. But I couldn’t face the reality until you left for good. That’s when I felt I had truly lost you. And I knew it was my own fault.”

“Mom, look,” I begin, wringing my hands. “I know I said some things that night. Things I regret. Things I probably shouldn’t have. They came from a place of anger. But I didn’t …I never…I never hated you.” I give a weak smile. “Despite my parting words.”

“No,” she says. Her eyes bore into me with a sudden intensity. “Don’t you dare apologize, Lilly Ryder. Everything you said that night was the absolute truth. It was the wake-up call I needed—even if it did take a few more years for me to accept.

“But no,” she continues. “The first fight is when I really began to question myself. I kept your father away from you because I didn’t want you to hurt the way that I did. But what if
I
was the cause of your pain? What if
I
was the reason for your suffering? What if
I
inflicted all the things onto you that I tried to shield you from?”

“Mom…”

“Don’t cut me off, Lilly,” she snaps. “If we’re having a heart-to-heart, this is the way to do it. Just listen while I speak. I stayed up all night crying the first time you left. I vowed that if I ever saw you again, I would give up the bottle for good.”

She inhales once more. “Of course, that didn’t happen. The morning after you came back, I woke up, and what did I do? I poured a shot of vodka in my espresso. I hated myself then, Lilly. Oh, how I loathed what I’d become. I was weak, tempted, and frail.

“Maybe the real reason I didn’t keep my promise was because you came back so soon, because I got you back so easily. I didn’t have to change if I wanted to see you again. And so, I didn’t.

“But that broken promise, unspoken to anyone, not known by anyone other than me… it dug at me. And it hurt. It consumed my mind: my failure, my failure, my failure.

“I wasn’t past addressing reality. I could see what a hypocrite I’d become. I kept your father away from you, deprived you of growing up with a dad, all for what? To become someone just like him?

“No.” She stops and her eyes take on a faraway look. “Not someone like him. Someone
worse
. Your father, he did drugs. But he could…he could control his cravings. A ‘functional addict’, isn’t that the term they use these days? And I…I was exactly the opposite.”

“But you’re not anymore!” I say gruffly. I smile.

“No,” she agrees. “But the damage had already been done. I know I ruined your teens, Lilly. Those are years you can never have back. Things should never have deteriorated into what they became. And who holds the ultimate responsibility for that? I do. I’m just shocked—astounded, really—at all you’ve managed to accomplish. All you’ve managed to do, despite your upbringing. I mean really, Lilly: Yale? That’s almost beyond belief. Hell, to be honest,” she fixes me with one of her looks, “I don’t know if I would have believed you, had you come to me today and told me, if I hadn’t seen it in print.”

“Thanks for having faith in me, mom,” I say dryly. Then I wink.

She laughs. Then she stops, blinks, and says, “God, it feels good to laugh. Especially because I’m doing it with you.”

That sentiment warms my insides.
This
is the woman I’ve despised for so long?
This
is the woman for whom I’ve held so much contempt?

I can hardly believe how stupid I’ve been. I couldn’t see past my own struggles to look at hers. All I could see was the alcoholism. I never even tried to understand the woman—the person—behind it all.

And for that, I am truly sorry. But I already know better than to live with regret. I’m just glad to have finally gained the strength to find her, to see her, and to put the past where it belongs.

“So enough about that,” I say. I’ve gotten the other thing I needed from her: confirmation. Confirmation that Paul’s story checks out. Now I know that he was telling the truth, and that Jeremy didn’t set it all up to deceive me.

If only I could say the same about Hugh.

“How have
you
been, mom?”

“Oh, you know.” She gives a half-hearted shrug. “Hanging in there, I guess.”

“I saw you at work earlier,” I say. “You owned the place.”

“What, you didn’t think I had it in me?”

“No, no,” I backtrack. “It’s just—”

“Lilly. Relax. I’m toying with you. Nothing you could say can ever upset me. You don’t know how grateful I am just to see you again. It still feels a bit surreal, kind of like a dream, to have you sitting in my trailer.”

“Well, I’m no miracle,” I say with a smile. “I’m really real. And I’m really here.”

“I’ve been working there for almost a year,” she says. “It’s good. It’s stable. The customers aren’t so bad. There are a few regulars who tip well…” she winks. “I pay a few of them back in my own special way.”

“Mom!”

“What? You don’t think I still have it in me? Last I checked, I’m more or less the same age as the man
you’re
currently involved with, and I don’t see you doubting his sexual prowess—”

“I do
not
want to talk about your sex life, mom!” I exclaim. “Or mine.”

Her eyes twinkle. “So he’s good, then? I mean, I would assume so…a man with so much charisma, so much power. How
did
the two of you meet, honey? You haven’t yet told me a single thing about
Jeremy
.”

“It’s a long story,” I say, and launch into the same practiced lie Jeremy and I invented for Thalia and Fey.

Chapter Fifteen

Hours pass. By the time we’re done talking, the sun is starting to rise.

I’m exhausted. Seeing my mother and reconnecting with her on a personal level is nothing I could have believed possible a few months ago. But then again, so many things have happened to me since then that my entire worldview is now different.

I used to think that there were bad people and there were good people in the world. That there was no such thing as bad people doing good things, or good people doing bad things. The things you did defined you as a person, and so your actions were the true measure of your worth.

Admittedly, it was a very narrow view of the world. But it helped me immerse myself in academics for long enough to end up where I wanted to be. And then Jeremy came storming in…and all that changed.

Despite all the bad he’s done to me, I can no longer deny the good. And I don’t have to. I’m not afraid of it anymore.

Jeremy opened my eyes to the true nature of the world. What is that nature? It’s indefinable. It’s ever-changing, constantly in flux, and never, ever what you expect. To try to put your finger on it would be like trying to stop a river with nothing more than a handful of twigs.

It can’t be done.

But that’s not the point. The point isn’t to try to understand and define something so much greater than yourself. The point is to acknowledge your place in the world, to realize how little you can ever truly know, and to make peace with that understanding.

People will surprise you. Events and circumstances will surprise you. The only way to ready yourself for it is to become infinitely mutable. To forge ahead on the untrodden path. To trust in your ability to lose yourself and to accept it, once you do veer off-course.

Because stability, truth, and expectations? They’re not lies, exactly, but they will never be the anchors you want them to be.

Jeremy showed me that. He showed me that forgiveness is possible. My mother and I are but the latest examples. It would have seemed inconceivable to me that I would be lying down, about to fall asleep, under the same roof as her, after having made peace… if you would have suggested it to me while I was still at Yale.

But here I am, about to do just that. She gave me her bed, despite all my protests. But they were half-hearted, at best, given how tired I was when it finally came time to call it a night. Tomorrow—or whatever day it’ll be when I wake up—I’m going back to Jeremy. I’m going back to Jeremy, with full control and confidence in my mind. And there, I will demand answers from him: about Hugh, about the video, about his driver. We’ll see what face he shows me then.

Chapter Sixteen

When I wake up, mom’s gone. I find a note from her in the kitchen:

Meatloaf’s in the fridge.

I smile. It’s been a long time since she’s cared enough to feed me at home.

I look through a window. It’s dark outside. A freshly fallen, white, fluffy snow covers everything. It makes me think of the holidays, even though they’re past. For a few nostalgic moments, I reminisce about the Christmases of my childhood.

Those are memories I haven’t recalled in a long time.
Good
memories, of my mother and me. No matter how poor we were, no matter how much she struggled just to put food on the table, I never felt it. Not as a child. Every Christmas, she would delight me with boxes of chocolate that I devoured and, sometimes, other little trinkets to let me know she cared.

They weren’t expensive. They didn’t have to be. For a child, every gift on Christmas feels like a little miracle. Mom never deprived me of that.

Not until alcohol took over her life, at least.

But we’ve moved past that now. She’s sober, which is a revelation I would have never believed. I witnessed it when she poured the Johnny Walker down the drain. Liquor still has its pull on her. I saw the struggle play out before me. But she was been able to resist. That takes strength. Real strength, of the type I didn’t know Renee possessed.

I turn away from the window and look over her small dwelling. I live in a huge mansion, while she lives in…
this
?

Could I give her some money? Would she take it? Or would it—

I stop short, and wonder at the direction my thoughts have turned in disbelief. I’ve been in my position at Stonehart Industries for less than two weeks. I’ve been the recipient of a real income for less than two weeks. Not that I’ve even checked the bank accounts that Jeremy opened for me after I signed the employment offer. I haven’t had time. Still, it’s astounding to think that
I
have enough money to consider offering a portion to my mother.

But do I really want to get her involved in anything to do with Jeremy Stonehart? No. Not yet, at least. It’s still too early to consider doing that. Hell, I don’t even know where
I
stand with him. Or how on earth I’m going to get to California without having to swallow my pride and tell him I’ve been robbed.

That
is a conversation I want to put off for as long as possible. I shudder to think of the damage it’ll do to his impression of me.

But I cannot allow myself to be childish. My need to get back to California overpowers everything else. The need to get revenge, to see Jeremy pay for the things that he’s done to me hasn’t been forgotten.

Yet the problem is: I can feel that desire slipping away. I rely on Jeremy for pretty much everything in my life. If I, somehow, bring him down, what will I have left?

No
! I shake my head wildly to dispel the notion. I’m a survivor. Always have been, always will be. I’ll find my way. Didn’t I just prove that with my mother? I just need to trust in myself…to believe in my own abilities…enough to overcome whatever weakness I’ve allowed into my life since that watershed phone call from Fey. Granted, I lost some confidence in myself. But I think, finally, that it’s coming back.

I look around once more. Today is already lost. Judging by the clock, I got nearly fourteen hours of sleep. Tomorrow, then, I’ll call Jeremy and ask for a return flight. It keeps this trip on its original, intended schedule, that way. And it wouldn’t feel right to simply leave mom without saying good-bye.