She turned off the car and walked toward the front door. Gloria had even decorated the heavy wood with a fall wreath, full of orange and yellow flowers and a burlap ribbon.
Maybe the homeowner had decorated before Gloria had moved in. Yeah, that explained it.
A second after Stella rang the bell, the door was flung open and Gloria was there, throwing her arms around Stella’s shoulders before she had a chance to brace herself.
“Oh, honey,” her mother gushed.
Stella managed to stay upright with taking the brunt of her mom’s weight. Gloria clung tight, as though expecting Stella to run away before they had a chance to talk. To be honest, Stella’s initial instinct had been to do just that. A fleeting moment of panic had snapped into her spine, whispering at her to shove her mom away. That she didn’t like displays of affection or anyone touching her.
But Brandon touches you.
Yeah. Funny how he’d become the one person who didn’t send her into a panic.
Gently, Stella removed her mother’s arms and stepped back. She offered a smile at the flash of hurt in Gloria’s eyes.
“I’m sorry, come in,” Gloria invited.
Stella stepped through the door and noticed how good the place smelled. Like sunshine and freshly baked bread. Her mom had baked?
When Stella was growing up, Gloria had been incapable of microwaving a simple bowl of mac and cheese.
No, not incapable. Unwilling.
“What’s that I’m smelling?” Stella queried as she followed her mom into the house.
“Oh, that’s apple cinnamon bread.” A nervous laugh popped out of her mom. “Just something new I’m trying. Would you like some? I just took it out of the oven.”
Again, her instinct was to say no. To turn around and try this again another day, that she didn’t have the strength or the energy to deal with this. But something in Gloria’s gaze, and unabashed amount of hope, gave Stella pause.
Maybe her mother was turning over a new leaf. And if she could, why couldn’t Stella?
“Sure, I’ll try a slice,” she told her mom.
Gloria’s mouth turned into a grin, like a kid who’d been given permission to eat a cookie before dinner. She disappeared into the kitchen and Stella took a seat on the couch to wait. Where had all this furniture come from? It was inviting and comfortable, just begging Stella to pull her feet up and curl under a blanket.
“Is all this yours?” she asked her mom when she reappeared with the food.
Gloria glanced around the room. “It came furnished. I just added some photographs and fresh flowers.” She handed Stella a slice of bread with dark brown stuff spread on top. Gloria gestured to it. “That’s apple butter. I made that too.”
Stella picked up the bread and studied it. Smelled good. And still warm. “When did you start baking like this?”
“Just over the last couple of days…” Gloria’s gaze bounced around the room as her words trailed off.
Great. She was eating guilt food.
Nevertheless, it was good. Spicy and soft and…homemade. That word threw Stella for a loop because, as a kid, homemade had been a novelty. A luxury that other kids enjoyed. Not poor Stella Davenport who had to walk to school and dance in secondhand toe shoes.
Shit, she really needed to stop living in the past. Were her demons her own fault for always comparing her present to her past? For measuring everyone around her with what she’d known growing up? Was that what she’d been doing with Brandon?
Expecting things with him to implode because that had always been her standard.
“Mom—”
“Honey—”
They spoke at the same time and quieted at the same time, waiting for the other to continue.
“Go ahead,” Stella said as she polished off the last of the apple bread.
Her mom waved a hand at her. “No, you go.”
“I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you,” she started, not knowing what else to say.
Gloria shook her head. “I deserved that—”
“No, you didn’t,” she interrupted. “There are a dozen different ways I could have handled that, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. I’m sorry.” She wadded up the paper towel. “And I’m sorry for ignoring all your calls. I know I upset you, but there were some things I needed to sort out before we could talk.”
“Honey, about Terry—”
“I don’t want to talk about him,” Stella barked. Really, she didn’t want to talk about any of it. But, at the very least, she needed her mom to know she wasn’t angry anymore. That she was making an attempt, however poor that attempt was, to put it all behind her.
Her statement must have thrown Gloria for a loop, because she opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.
“But, honey—”
“Mom, please,” Stella urged.
Gloria took a seat next to Stella on the couch. “You have to know that I…” She rocked forward on the couch and wrung her hands. “If I’d had any idea what he’d been doing…” She shook her head and blew out a shuddering breath. “God, I can’t believe I brought that monster in the house with you,” she muttered in a harsh whisper. Had she meant for Stella to hear that? “You were my little girl and I was supposed to protect you and I’ve failed in so many ways.” The tears muddling Gloria’s voice threatened Stella’s own tears. Gloria swiped at her eyes but refused to look at Stella.
Stella wrung her own hands at the impulse to comfort her mom. But touching and affection had never come easy for her, so the desire to put her arm around her own mother contradicted her comfort zone. Finally, she laid a hand on Gloria’s shoulder. “You haven’t failed, Mom. He was a creep who should have known better.”
Gloria whipped her head up and pinned Stella with tear-filled eyes. “I should have known better, Stella.” She jabbed her index finger in the middle of her chest. “Don’t you get it? I was the mom. It was my job to take care of you and keep you safe and I brought that prick into our home and he violated you.” She dropped her head into her hands and cried. “The thought of what he did to you…How could you ever forgive me?”
Stella’s own tears flowed, a feeling she wasn’t used to. She’d never been a crier. Didn’t get emotional or sappy over stuff other women did. But the sight of her mom, old and broken and crying over the little girl she’d wronged, hit a deeply buried place inside. A place she’d kept hidden for a reason, for this very reason, and her mother’s tears exposed it. Just shined a big ol’ fat light on the damn thing so that Stella was powerless to force it down.
“Of course I forgive you,” Stella whispered. “I just wanted you to see me.” She chased away her own tears, hating herself for allowing them to fall. “You never saw me, Mom.”
“Oh, honey.” Gloria thumbed one of Stella’s tears away. “You came barreling into my life before I was ready, always looking up at me with those big blue eyes full of undying trust and love and I didn’t know the first thing to do with you.” She shook her head. “You scared me to death. You were the best thing I ever did,” Gloria whispered. “What I was always the most proud of.”