If Only We (16 page)

I fill out the form. Since it's a commission store, I'll only receive sixty percent of the sale. That is okay though because it's the stepping-stone to greater things. Dozens of people on a daily basis will see my creations. It's only a matter of time before word spreads. Part of me is overjoyed at this prospect. The other part of me believes I should have made more. That other part of me is forgetting that I am broke now.
Never mind about that, Adrienne. It won’t be long until you have money again.
I quickly cross my fingers under the counter.

Once we finalize all the pricing and other details, she places my work on a shelf of its own. It feels so good to see it on display. Like all of this was worth it.

“I pay my clients by the month,” she says before I walk out. “So give me a call or come by the beginning of September to get your August earnings.”

I smile. “Okay, that sounds great. Thank you!”

Chapter Twenty-eight

Saturday evening, August 4
^th

After spending the afternoon out with Lyndsay, I go home around six, hoping my mom has cooled off. At least enough to have a civilized conversation at dinner.

The family is in the dining room setting up. Kaitlin has the silverware, Maurice is placing the vegetables in the center next to the mashed potatoes and roast, and Mom is putting the serving spoons and forks in each. They look up at me at the same time. Kaitlin is surprised to see me, Maurice has a look of pity, and my mom? No expression. I blink a couple times and stammer, “Let me, um, let me get the glasses.” I rush off to the kitchen, get four glasses out of the cupboard, and bring them out.

We eat in silence for a minute. Then Maurice clears his throat and says, “How was everyone’s day today?”

Nobody speaks. I'm afraid to say anything. As much as I wanted to share my good news, I can’t. It's too soon and will only make my mom angrier.

“That good, huh?” he jokes. “Well, mine was fine. I had to go in to work for a couple hours to fix the computers but at least they are up and running for Monday. Otherwise it would have been a disaster.”

“I could imagine,” Mom says quietly, staring down at her food.

“How about you, Adrienne?” he says, turning to me.

I freeze in place with my fork halfway to my mouth. I steal a glance at my mom, who is still staring down at her food. I suppose I have no choice but to answer, regardless of the response. “Um, well, Lyndsay and I went out to Hidden Treasures and then did some shopping.”

“Hidden Treasures?”

“It’s an arts and crafts commission shop in Richmond.”

“Huh, haven’t heard of it. Did you buy anything nice?”

Here goes nothing. “I wasn’t there to buy.”

“Oh. What were you doing there then?”

“I was there to sell.” I carefully place my forkful of broccoli in my mouth.

This is when my mom chooses to speak. “Sell what?”

“Purses and wallets.”

She sets down her knife and fork, then carefully dabs her mouth with a napkin. “Are you telling me…that you spent the summer making purses…and wallets?” She nearly chokes out the last part.

I flinch, but calmly reply, “Yes…and pillows.”

Kaitlin turns to me with wide eyes. “You made my pillows?” she asks in awe. I nod. She looks like she wants to smile but she doesn’t.

“Well then,” Mom says, throwing her napkin down on her plate, “it’s nice to see you’re not wasting your life away.”

“Joy,” Maurice says gently, touching her hand.

She shakes her head and stands up, hands on either side of her plate. “No, Maurice, I can’t sit here and listen to this.” She looks at me. “Adrienne, I cannot express my outrage at your immaturity. Purses? Pillows? You can’t make a career out of that! You can’t live off the income from that! There is no way you can justify this choice.” She points a finger at me. “Let me tell you something: You're going to find out real fast what the real world is if you keep this up. You had the perfect career right in front of you that we have had planned out since you were little and you’re going to give it up to be some sort of ‘designer.’” She makes quotes with her fingers.

At this, I shove my chair back and stand up. “
We
planned out? No,
you
planned this out. You have spent my whole life molding me into a miniature you, and why? Because of tradition and the honor that goes with it. But you know what? You never once, for even a second, took the time to ask me what I wanted to do, or paid attention to the things I liked to do.” I think,
Like when I used to sew, or when I fix the seams that come apart on your clothes.
“You just kept shoving it down my throat and never allowed me to think for myself. I spent all my life thinking like you, believing that nursing was what I wanted. Now that I’m making my own choices, I can see what I want.”

“What?” she spits out. “Making minimum-wage sewing for a living?”

I shake my head and flare my nostrils. “No…to do what I want to do and not live in the shadow of a woman who cares more about tradition than her own daughter.” With that, I run upstairs to my room and close the door.

Half an hour later, there's a knock at my door. I sigh and say, “Who is it?”

“Kaitlin.”

Relieved, I sit up and tell her, “Come in.” She cautiously opens the door and closes it behind her. She stands there for a few seconds. I pat the bed and she sits down. “What’s up?”

She glances at the door, then back at me. “I wanted to thank you for making the pillows for me. Nobody has ever done anything like that for me before.”

I smile. “You’re welcome.”

“They’re so beautiful.” She looks down and touches her fingers together. “I think…I think if you can make something that cool, you can do anything.”

There I have it, a good thing that has come out of all this mess.

Kaitlin likes me.

I grin and say, “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m happy to have one person who believes in me.”

“I’m sorry you and your mom are fighting.”

I sigh. “Me too.” I hold up a hand and brush it off. “It will all blow over soon.” Fat chance, but I don’t tell her this. “We should just take our minds off of this and watch another episode. What do you say?”

She nods enthusiastically. “That sounds great.”

Maurice knocks on my door while Kaitlin and I are still watching our show. He asks me to step outside for a second, so I do. He says, “Your mom and I decided when we got married that we wouldn’t interfere when it came to parenting our stepdaughters. I wanted to let you know that I am still standing by that. However...” He pauses. “I know that this isn’t something that will just disappear tomorrow. In the meantime, I think it would be best if we don’t discuss upsetting things at the dinner table anymore.”

“I think you’re right.” My mom and I aren't going to find a middle ground overnight. It's going to take some time, if it even happens at all.

It's at that moment that it hits me.

I know of somebody who could offer insight into the mind of my mom. Someone who lived with her for years. Someone who argued with her. Not only that, but someone who can still manage to get along with her despite their differences.

My dad.

~*~

Half an hour later, I call him up. Just when I am expecting to leave a voicemail, he answers. “Adrienne! I'm so happy to hear from you.”

“Hey, Dad. How are you doing?”

“I'm doing all right. The hospital is keeping me busy. How about you? Getting excited to start classes in the fall?”

He makes the segue into the main reason why I was calling easier. “Well…” I start. “Actually, I’m taking a semester off.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I decided I’m not going to be a nurse.”

There is a long pause on his end where I can only hear light breathing. “Does your mom know?”

I close my eyes. “Yes.”

“Ah…I can only begin to imagine how that went.”

“It hasn’t been good.” I tell him about everything that happened, from that first day of skipping the volunteer work up until now. “That’s why I called. I don’t know how to fix this and I want to understand how you guys have been able to get along, despite all the problems.”

“It didn’t happen overnight.” I can hear a hint of a reflective smile in his voice. “Your mother and I had our difficulties over the years, yes, but the thing that held us together was you. We both wanted what was best for you. When the divorce happened, we knew that although we had trouble getting along, we weren’t going to drag you into it. There was a truce set in place to be civil around you. I like to think that she and I get along partly because we still care about each other even though we aren’t in love anymore.” He lets out a breath. “She can be quite inflexible when it comes to certain things though.”

“That's the problem.”

“The way I see it, you only went along with it because you thought it would please her. She kept it going because she thought it was what you wanted too. At this point, you have both come to the opposite realization. Right now, her guard is up and precious little will get through to her until she softens. Talking to her will not do you any good until then. Once she does, then you need to talk to her seriously. Sit down with her and tell her you need to talk about something and you want her undivided attention.”

I'm not seeing a point when she will calm down. “You really think it will work?” I ask apprehensively.

“Yes. She'll listen. She always listened. Did I ever tell you about the time when I was working at St. Jude’s?”

“No.”

“Back then, you were a baby, barely a couple months old. I was working sixty hours a week. I was away from home far more than I liked. Your mom didn’t think it would be practical for me to quit that job. It paid well, and as a young family with a brand new house, we needed the money. Since I was working so much and she was raising you by herself, it ended up bringing about a compromise. If I would take on a different job, I could spend more time with both of you. It would also open up the opportunity for her to go back to work part-time.”

I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for him to convince her of this. “Did it work out?” I ask.

“It was rough working out the new routine at first, but it didn’t take long for us to get accustomed. The change of pace and lighter load made everything easier.” He is silent for a moment. “She may seem unyielding, but she is willing to meet you halfway if it makes sense.”

If she could find middle ground with my dad, I'm sure she and I can eventually. It feels nice to have an open dialogue going with somebody about this. “Thanks, Dad,” I say.

“You’re welcome, Adrienne.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Monday, August 6
^th

I head out as usual to go to Lyndsay’s on Monday. Only this time instead of staying the day over there, I load up my car with all my supplies—the sewing machine, the books, the material, and the thread. Why waste fuel and time to travel over there now that there's no need to hide it?

Lyndsay squeezes me tight before I leave. “It’s going to be weird not seeing you this week.”

“You barely saw me during the week anyway.”

“You know what I mean, dork.”

“Yes, I do.” I rest the side of my head against the door. “Am I kidding myself?”

“About what?”

“About this,” I say, holding up a bag of remnants. “I have barely gotten anywhere with this. How am I going to meet my mom halfway?”

She taps my chin with her fingertips. “Give it a little more time.”

“How much more time? I mean, how long will it take me to exhaust all my resources? What if this doesn’t work out?”

“What if it does?”

“No, what if it doesn’t? Look, I want to be optimistic but I also need to be realistic.”

She thinks for a few seconds before saying, “If it doesn’t, who cares?”

My eyes open wider. “‘Who
cares
?’” I repeat slowly.

She shrugs. “Yeah, who cares? You just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and do something else. I still don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring for me. Sure, I want to be a nurse but maybe ten years from now I’ll prefer to be behind a desk. At the very least, this is going to teach me a lot about the medical field, and those skills can help launch me into a number of other careers.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “Wow.”

“I know, right?” she says with a grin. “Mom and I were talking about my future and she started talking about her work experience. I pretty much knew the whole story already but I looked at it with new eyes and realized that the same applies to me. I’m just like her in many ways, and despite my worries, I can be just as strong as her and handle whatever life decides to hand me.” She appears relaxed as she tells me this. Like the weight of the world was lifted off her from one simple epiphany. It doesn’t mean everything is going to be perfect, it just means that her view of it is balanced.

It is truly inspirational.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “That’s a great way to view it.”

And that is exactly what I needed to hear.

~*~

I spend the rest of the day reorganizing my room. I rearrange the books on my shelves to move all the papers from my desk over. I find Coventry hiding behind where the papers were. I smile as I pick him up, then place the little kitty plush on my shelf next to my DVDs. I set the sewing machine on my desk and hook it up. After moving a few more things around, I have a nice little craft nook going in one corner of my room. I stand back and take it in for a moment.

“Whoa,” says a voice behind me. I turn and find Kaitlin standing in my doorway.

“Hey,” I say cheerfully. “I thought I’d bring it all back home instead of hiding out at Lyndsay’s again.”

She bounds to my bed and jumps on it. “What’s your next project going to be?”

“I won’t have enough money for what I need until next week.” There is an exquisite fabric I would like but it's quite expensive. The money from last week’s chores won't be enough. “But, I do have some bits and pieces I can use for something smaller. Like maybe…headbands.”

Kaitlin claps her hands together. “Cool.”

I grin. Her enthusiasm is contagious. “My thoughts exactly.” Just then, my phone rings. I glance down and see that it is Chevy. I flip it open. “Hey!”