Page 56 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
They were both quiet, letting the moment exhale and have itself. Emotions swirled, the room thick with them like clouds before a downpour. Max understood, unequivocally, that this was an important conversation in their relationship and that the words spoken would shape the future in front of them.
“I was too hard on you,” her mother said finally, meeting Max’s eyes with sorrowful ones.
“It was all I knew. My mother was hard on me, and hers was the same.” She reached for a tissue and dabbed beneath her nose.
“We weren’t permitted to make mistakes, and I saw the benefit in that through achievement. But there’s a price to pay, too.”
Max nodded, knowing all too well. For the first time, however, she saw herself in her mother.
She saw the daughter who watched her own hopes and dreams get pushed to the side, extinguished.
Maybe she hadn’t wanted to be a doctor. Maybe Max’s mother dreamt of one day being a zoologist. Who knew?
Max realized that she’d never really asked.
A mistake that now ushered in a swarm of regret.
It would be simple to correct her mother and let her off the hook. Tell her she’d given Max a fully loving childhood, and they had nothing to talk through. Max couldn’t do that. She’d lost too much. Something had to change, and she had to make it happen.
“I’m sorry you had a difficult time when you were young,” Max said.
“And I’m also sorry that you carried it with you into motherhood.
You did a lot of things right with me, but your expectations were a difficult hurdle to leap.
” She turned her palms upward and studied them as if they contained the perfect set of words to communicate her feelings. “But I can’t leap any more hurdles.”
“You fell in love,” her mother said softly.
“I did.” Max shook her head, finding power in sharing that information out loud. A painful lump lodged itself in her throat. “She’s afraid of me now. I made her feel small, and I hate every second of that knowledge. She shines brighter than any person I’ve ever met.”
Her mother nodded, thoughtful. “Then you make sure she knows that.” She pressed down on the couch cushion with one finger. “You correct the mistake. If she matters to you as much as you say, you run toward her with all you have, not away. You lead with honesty and you make yourself vulnerable.”
It was the first piece of usable romantic advice her mother had ever offered her.
It was also the first time she’d ever encouraged her to find love with a woman.
Max sat with the understanding, reeling from the unexpected twist. Today, the milestones were raining down like sprinkles on a cupcake.
Max wanted to be sure she didn’t miss any.
“Vulnerable has never been my strong suit,” Max admitted.
“That might also be my doing,” she said. Her eyes held apology, which released a heavy dose of truth right in the center of Max’s already swirling emotions.
“I just wanted you to love me,” Max said, her voice a strangled whisper. “I used to lie in bed at night and pray for it.”
Instantly, the tears in Max’s eyes were mirrored in her mother’s. She sat forward and met Max’s gaze. “I loved you so much,” she said emphatically. “Maybe too much. I thought pushing you to be your best self would help you in life. Make you strong.”
“All I needed was for you to believe I was. Once I had that, I would have had everything. I could have moved mountains.”
Her mother exhaled slowly as she reached for a tissue. “I failed you in that,” she said quietly. “And it’s painful to know I can’t go back and fix it. But let me say it now before another minute goes by. I believe in you, Maxine. I always have.”
Max nodded and absorbed the words, or at least attempted to. It would take her time to believe them, but she was willing to try if her mother was. Because they couldn’t go on the way they had. There was too much at stake.
“But, it’s not too late, you know.” She sent Max a wobbly smile, the lines around her eyes more prominent.
She appeared older today, smaller. Maybe it was the toll the treatment had taken on her body, or maybe it was because she wasn’t dressed like Dr. Mayumi Wyler, wearing navy lounge pants and a gray T-shirt without a stitch of makeup to be seen.
It crafted an individual who seemed a little less daunting, just a woman across the couch offering what help she could cobble together.
“I hope you’re right,” Max said, her gaze falling to the tan woven rug. Her heart hung heavy, and every part of her held recriminations for how things had gone with Ella on Christmas morning. Correction: how she’d treated Ella that morning. This was all on her.
Her mother reached down the couch and covered Max’s hand with her own, squeezing it tightly. “I have an idea. If you have the time to stay, why don’t I make some hot cocoa? We can watch a few of these family videos and talk about what went wrong between you and Ella.”
Max sat back, struck. “You said her name.”
“Why wouldn’t I say her name?” her mother asked, her brows pulling together.
“You’ve always referred to her as my girlfriend or that woman you’re seeing.”
“I have?”
Max nodded.
“Hmm. Well, it seems I have a few things to work on.”
“Okay, this is too weird,” Max said, holding out her hand like a stop sign. “Now you’re actively admitting you’re not perfect. Is an asteroid about to take us all out?” She feigned looking skyward.
Her mother picked up the remote. “Shhh, and watch the home movies. And after that, I have some ideas about Ella. You have to work in some big moves.”
“Big moves, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
Max smiled, a soft, surprised thing that crept up before she could stop it.
Maybe this was what growth looked like. Not grand gestures or perfect endings, but two people in tough spots, sitting on a couch, watching the past flicker across a screen while figuring out how to show up for an uncertain future.
She settled deeper into the cushions as the tape resumed, the sound of a small voice on the screen calling for her mom. It echoed through the room like a benediction.
They sat on the couch, one cushion between them, letting the story of who they’d been remind them of who they might still become. The ground felt shaky, but for the first time, Max looked over at her mother and wondered if there just might be hope for them.