“Oh, so there was a time when he was happy I existed. Prebirth.”
“You were like a tiny little doll when you were born. You were absolute perfection. You never cried, you slept constantly and you just loved being held. I was obsessed with you. But Fenrir was taking up all of your dad’s time, I didn’t want to travel while you were so small, so we were apart a lot and, as you grew, you looked nothing like any of the Roberts family and your father became even more distant.”
“Distant? Why?”
“It was subtle at first. He’d comment on how blond your hair was getting when Elsa’s was dark brown, your eyes started to turn green and you looked nothing like him. Everyone in that family looks alike and you were the exception. You looked exactly like me.”
I feel sick and it all starts to make sense. “He thinks I’m not his daughter.”
“He didn’t outright say it, but for a while I was convinced that was the answer. I pushed it aside at first because I thought when you got older, you’d be able to bond and bridge that gap he’d created.” Mom brushes at her cheek with the back of her hand. “I wish that had been the answer. I could have fixed that with a DNA test and a hefty round of couples counselling. But then he started to treat your sister the same way and I realized I was searching for answers that would make sense to me, something I could work with, when the reality is the problem was him the entire time.
“We fought and fought over it. I couldn’t stand that I’d started a family with a man who could treat his children like they were an inconvenience to him. I felt like I was grieving the loss of my husband, but he hadn’t died. He just wasn’t the man I knew. You noticed, even when you were very little, you knew things weren’t right. Elsa started acting out to get his attention, which would work, so you copied. I thought it would get better when we traveled together, but if anything, it made you both worse.”
I sit in silence, scared to say anything and interrupt all the answers I’m finally getting.
“It was harmless at first, “Daddy watch me do this’ and you’d wait, expectantly, but the less it worked the more you did. And I couldn’t even reprimand you, scare either of you into behaving, because it wasn’t your fault. You were little girls who didn’t know what they’d done wrong. Who didn’t understand—” Her voice cracks. “I’m so sorry, Aurora. I’m so sorry you feel the way you do about yourself because we weren’t better parents. I left him when I realized he’d never change, but it was too late. The damage was done.”
“So the answer to my questions is something that I already know? That he isn’t a good person.”
“I’ve never claimed to be the perfect mother. I know we have our differences, but I love you enough for both me and Chuck.” She stands from the chair, brushing off invisible dust from her pantsuit, her pumps in her hand looking wholly out of place. “You’re an adult, Aurora. I cannot tell you what to do and you wouldn’t listen to me even if I did but, legally, your father has to pay for your education and living costs until you have access to your trust. It doesn’t mean you have to see him. Do with that information what you will.”
I feel like I’ve had a lifetime’s worth of information in such a short time and I’m exhausted.
Like Mom, I’ve been searching for a reason. Desperately looking for answers that might explain things, give me something I can cling onto and fix. I don’t think I can fix a serious character flaw.
I stand, too, following Mom’s lead back toward the main path, helping her step back into her pumps when we reach the gravel. “Are you going to stay for a little while? Emilia will be around here somewhere.”
“I can’t, darling. I need to get home for Cat. He’ll be wondering where I am.”
I forgot about the damn cat. “Is this cat real? Or is it some kind of ploy to get me to come over.”
She rolls her eyes as she reaches into her bag to pull out her cellphone and there, on her phone background, is a picture of a scruffy black cat lying in a sea of pillows on— “Why is he on my bed!”
“You have your own place, Aurora. You can’t claim every bed you sleep in forever.”
“Are you kidding me? You were asking me to move home two minutes ago!”
She huffs as she stuffs her phone back into her purse. “I’m sure if you bring some smoked salmon with you on your next visit he will consider sharing with you.”
I’ve left Mom with Emilia and Xander is under strict instructions that he’s not allowed to hit on her. Xander made some jokes about becoming my step-dad as soon as he realized my mom just looks like an older version of me and I’m taking no chances. I gave Emilia permission that if Clay even looks in Mom’s direction, she’s allowed to beat him.
I know as I approach Jenna’s office that I’m going to hate every second of this conversation.
Honey Acres has been part of my life for longer than it hasn’t been and I know that being fired means I’ll never be welcomed back here and, really, I should have considered that before I started things with Russ. I can’t lie, I’ve never truly believed that the fraternization rule was enforced, but after being given the cold shoulder earlier, I’m not as confident.
But some risks are worth it and given the time again, I wouldn’t change it. Russ told me he wouldn’t change anything in the past because he wouldn’t risk not meeting me, so if getting fired from the place I love most in the world is how it goes for me, at least I get to keep the butterflies.
Rapping my knuckles against the door, I know from the Mamma Mia soundtrack blasting that Jenna’s in there. I’ve never knocked before entering Jenna’s office before so I don’t know why I’m starting today, maybe it’s because I know not pissing her off further will help my cause. I knock again a little harder and she finally shouts come in.
The look she gives when she realizes it’s me practically cuts me open. She’s not angry; she’s disappointed.
“Jenna, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t tell me you’re sorry when you’re not, Rory. You knew exactly what you were doing when you broke the rules and you’ve knowingly put me in a difficult position.”
“Please don’t fire him, Jen,” I say desperately, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “He doesn’t deserve to lose his job because I convinced him to break the rules.”
“You’re both adults and you both responsible for your actions.” Shit. “When did it start?”
I want to lie. Like maybe if I tell her it was today because I was sad it’ll make it easier for her to process and she won’t be as harsh. But Jenna means a lot to me and I don’t want to betray her even more than I have. “When we had the storm.”
Her head shakes as she leans against her hands. “You fucking horny so-called adults are driving me up the wall. I can’t wait for you all to go back to college and be someone else’s problem. I’m so annoyed with you, Aurora.”
“I’m so sorry, Jenna. I will leave with no drama, I swear. But please don’t fire Russ. He will be crushed if he loses this job. He doesn’t deserve it, I promise.”
“Can you stop with the pity party, please? You’re giving me a headache and my head already hurts after seeing a half-naked man crawling all over you today and then having to look your mother in the eyes.”
“I’m so—”
“Stop apologizing and go do your job, please. No, bring me a lemonade. Then go do your job.” My eyebrows raise in surprise. She huffs, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in her chair. “What? You think you’re special? If we had to fire every member of staff who fooled around together, we’d have no staff.”
“But I thought . . .”
“I saw him the night of the storm, Aurora. I knew you’d be scared so I went back to your cabin when the power was out. I watched him hover around the steps to your cabin in the rain, arguing with himself, until he finally knocked. That’s when I knew.”