“What … ? You mean you didn’t sign up to adopt Hannah as your long-lost daughter?”
Maeve chuckled. “No. Definitely not. She’s a sweet girl when she wants to be, but she’s got her claws dug so deep in my boy’s arm, it gets me a little hot under the collar sometimes. But I’m just the mom, so I have to keep my opinions to myself.”
“Maybe Mack should just give in,” I suggested, sad about the idea but thinking I had to be mature about it. “She seems really dedicated to him.”
Maeve stopped pushing the cart. “Give in and go with a girl he doesn’t care about? What’s he going to do when the girl he’s meant to be with comes along, then? Sounds like a life of sorrow to me.” She shook her head. “No thank you. I don’t want that for my boys. Life’s too short to settle for second best.”
“Maybe she’s the right girl for him, though. She sure seems to think so.”
“Just because a person is obsessed with the idea of something, it doesn’t make it right or even good for them.” She slowed down and started scanning the shelves for something specific. “Unfortunately, obsessed people are also deaf, dumb and blind most of the time, so it rarely works to try and help them see the light. Mack is too kind. He has a hard time just coming right out and saying what needs to be said sometimes.”
Her words were like giant Liberty Bells gonging around inside my head. Whether she realized it or not, she wasn’t just talking about Hannah. She was talking about me and my stupid obsession with my lifeplan. Why had I put so much of myself into the idea that I could carefully script everything out?
I knew the answer. Just like Maeve had said yesterday, sometimes when a person’s life is so out of control and scary, the only thing that can give it any sense or meaning is structure. My life as a teen had been such a mess, I’d done what I had to do to get out with my sanity intact. I’d created a new reality for myself so I could survive when survival was the bare minimum I could ever hope for.
I exhaled heavily. As hard as I’d worked at keeping it from happening, my past was still managing to creep into my present to cast its dark shadow.
“Why the big sigh?” asked Maeve, reaching the end of the cookie aisle. She pulled two boxes off the shelf and held them up while winking at me.
I took one from her and stared at the label, not really seeing what was there. “I was thinking about my mom.” I was lost in my memories and had just started talking without realizing what I was saying. Dammit. Too late to take it back. I hated sharing my past with people. It was embarrassing and made me feel second class to quality people like Maeve and her family. Shame burned my cheeks pink.
“Are you close with her?” She took the cookies from my hand and put them in the cart, either not noticing I was flustered or politely ignoring my distress. Either way I was grateful for it.
I looked across the aisle at the cereal, pretending to be interested in one of the sugary breakfast foods. “No, we’re not close at all. We were when I was younger, but she dated a guy who … came between us. I haven’t talked to her in years.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Maeve sounded like she really meant it and wasn’t just being polite. “Where is she? Does she live near you?”
“No, actually, she lives closer to you than me. In Seattle, last time I heard.”
“Well, why don’t you stop by for a visit before you go back East?” Maeve put her hand on my upper arm. “No matter what happened in the past, I’m sure she’d love to see you. Mothers never stop missing their kids, even when they’re just in the next town over.”
I grimaced. “No thanks. She’s not someone I want to spend my time with.” I almost shuddered, but stopped myself. No need to pull those particular skeletons out of the closet. I was already making a hell of an impression so far.
Maeve dropped her hand. “That’s too bad.” She pushed the cart forward and turned the corner, banging into something loudly.
“Oh!” she gasped, and then her tone turned to one of anger. “Hannah, what are you doing skulking around over here?”
“Skulking? I’m not skulking. I’m just getting my groceries!” Hannah Banana was the picture of innocence, her eyebrows so high they were practically at her hairline.
“Is that so?” Maeve looked pointedly in Hannah’s cart.
The entire basket was empty, and Hannah was already three quarters of the way through the store. I got nervous, wondering how much of my conversation with Maeve she’d overheard.
“Yes, it is so. I’m here to get barbecue meat for tonight’s dinner. I’ve got the old group coming over. Mack, Ian, Ginny, and me.”
Maeve snorted. “Are you throwing a party or a funeral?”
Hannah’s jaw dropped open for a second before she recovered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”