Page 46 of July (New Orleans #7)

“H ey,” Jill said as she walked into the kitchen.

“Hi,” her mother replied as she stood at the stove, stirring something in a pot. “You’re really early. Juni is with one of her friends at the park.”

“Oh,” Jill let out, standing by the table, not sitting down yet. “I came over after work. I thought we could talk.”

“What about?” her mother asked and sighed. “Didn’t you say all you needed to say yesterday?”

Jill laughed because she couldn’t not.

“No, I definitely did not say all I needed to say yesterday. I’ve got about a decade or so of things I need to say.”

Her mother turned, placed the spoon on a paper towel on the counter, and asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Can we sit down, Mom?”

“I’m cooking dinner.”

“That’s tomato sauce, and you just stirred it,” Jill noted. “It’ll be fine while we talk.”

Her mother wiped her hands on a rag and sat down, so Jill pulled out a chair and did the same.

“I know I put you in a tight spot for a couple of weeks, Jill, but I’m back now. Can’t we just forget about it?”

“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “We can’t. What if you didn’t have an older daughter to take care of her?”

“I would’ve taken her to my parents.”

“So, you had a backup plan to take care of her?”

“Every parent does. If something happened to me after her dad died, my parents would take her. That was always the plan.”

“But you left her with me.”

“I needed to leave, and I couldn’t take the time to drive all the way to their house and then head to Arkansas.”

“So, you couldn’t spare one extra day?”

“Jill, it was around the anniversary of his death. I needed to leave. I couldn’t stand to look at her.

It was getting worse and worse. One day, I was late dropping her off at school because I just couldn’t get out of bed and make sure she brushed her teeth and had matching socks.

It’s been that way since he died, but instead of it getting better with time, it was getting worse. ”

“I told you to get help,” Jill replied. “I suggested a grief counselor for both of you.”

“And I didn’t want one,” her mother argued. “I needed to wallow, and a counselor would’ve just told me to get over it. I can’t get over it. I lost the love of my life.”

“They don’t just tell you to get over it. That’s not how it works, Mom.”

“Well, it would have been about working through it, at least, and I didn’t want to work through it. I wanted him back, and I couldn’t have that.”

“Mom, you left her here.”

“I know. And I promise that I won’t do that again, but it was what I needed. I got away, and I got perspective.”

“That’s what vacations are for, where you arrange for a babysitter.

You don’t just leave. You know that I have very little money saved up, right?

I have credit cards, but I try not to use them.

You made it so I had to think about getting out of my apartment, selling a house I didn’t own, learning how to be a parent, possibly finding a different job because mine wouldn’t pay enough to take care of both of us, and–”

“Jill, I get it,” her mother interrupted. “I made an awful mistake, and I get it.”

“Then, apologize,” Jill told her a little louder than was necessary.

“Fucking apologize for once. God, you have given me half-assed excuses and told me all about what you needed, but you’ve never actually really apologized or thought at all about what you have done and how it has impacted Juni or, God forbid, me. ”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you haven’t cared about your actions impacting me since you met him,” Jill replied.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. It is. I don’t know how you didn’t see it. You met him, and everything else took a back seat, including your only daughter.”

“Jill, I didn’t leave you. I just fell in love. I met someone who–”

“Took over your entire life,” Jill interrupted.

“I needed you, Mom. I was at that age when I needed my mom again. I was just a teenager, coming to grips with my sexuality and dealing with feeling lonely at school and not knowing how to handle that. I needed to think about life after high school, what college to go to, and how to pay for it. I had part-time jobs and bad bosses that I wanted to talk to my mom about, but I had to quit those because the moment Juni was born, you were basically gone. You went on dates and dinners and had fun almost every night of the week. How many family dinners did we have back then? None. I think it was none. I became your live-in babysitter, and our conversations consisted of Juni updates and concerns on your way out the door or when you got home. Hell, when she was seven months old and got a fever, you were out at dinner. I called you, and you just said she’d be fine.

She was, thank God, but I gave her the medicine and slept on the floor by her crib to make sure.

I don’t even remember you checking on her when you both got home.

And I’m your daughter, too.” Jill felt the tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m your daughter too, Mom. Me, the one you forgot about. ”

“You’re being dramatic, Jill. I didn’t forget about you.”

“Yes, you did,” Jill argued. “Or you stopped thinking about me as your first kid and started thinking about me as the babysitter for your second. Right when I got to school, you called me at least ten times, asking me to come home for the night to watch Juni or come home for the weekend because you two wanted to get away, or he wanted to hunt, and you wanted to go with him.” Jill wiped at a tear that had rolled down her cheek.

“I don’t remember you asking me anything about my classes or my life at college, and I don’t even know if you actually invited me home for Thanksgiving. ”

“You came here for Thanksgiving,” her mom retorted.

“But you didn’t invite me. I stayed for dinner and left. It was the same at Christmas. I came for Christmas dinner, where you gave me cash instead of a real gift, and I watched you fawn over Juni and the gifts she’d gotten to unwrap that morning. Then, I left. I never even stayed the night.”

“You were in college. All kids need money in college.”

“Maybe. But it was pulled from your purse and handed to me in a wad, Mom. Would have been nice to at least open a gift.”

“So, now you’re mad that we didn’t get you the Christmas gift you wanted?”

“No,” Jill said and sighed. “God, you’re not getting this, are you?”

“I suppose not, Jill. My daughter just showed up and started complaining that I was a horrible mother to her all these years.”

“You weren’t a mother!” Jill yelled then. “You weren’t a mother,” she said a little more softly. “You stopped being my mom the moment you met him, and the stick turned blue. It was your life with him that mattered to you, and I was just the daughter you had with a guy you used to know.”

Her mom leaned back in the chair that creaked.

“I didn’t know.”

“I tried to tell you, but you didn’t want to listen,” Jill said as she wiped another tear.

“Do you know that my friends weren’t even aware that Juni existed?

I have lied to some of them for years because I was too embarrassed that I didn’t matter to my own mother; that there was this little girl who had taken all of your attention away.

I’ve been petty enough to let that get to me, but now, I don’t think it was me being petty.

I wasn’t actually jealous of Juni. None of this was her fault.

I was mad at you . I was mad at him because he never wanted me here, to begin with, and you couldn’t see that.

You couldn’t see that he only really loved you and her, never me, and it was hard for me to be in the house knowing that.

I was a kid, Mom.” She sniffled. “I was a kid. I needed my mom. I needed someone to love me.”

Her mother leaned forward again, looking a little shell-shocked now, and said, “Baby, I didn’t know that. Of course, I loved you. I do love you. You’re my daughter.”

Jill broke down then, her tears turning into full-on sobs.

The last time her mother had told her that she loved her had been on the phone when she’d been fleeing the state, leaving Jill with Juni to take care of, and Jill had believed it had only been because her mother had needed something from her, not because she had genuinely meant that.

This was the first time in years that she actually believed her mother when she said those words, and she hadn’t realized how much she had needed them.

“Oh, baby…” her mom said and knelt in front of her, pulling Jill down into her arms.

Then, she was standing, and Jill’s face was buried in her chest, letting everything out that she’d been holding in for years now. Her mom’s hand pressed her close. Her other arm was around Jill’s shoulders, holding her tightly.

“I’ve made mistakes, and I don’t know what I can say or do to make up for them. I wasn’t equipped to handle all of this, I don’t think. I don’t mean that to sound like another excuse. I just don’t know what else to say to make this better.”

“Just please get some help,” Jill said as her sobs began to die down. “Get some help, Mom.”

“A therapist?”

“Someone. Anyone. You left me long before you left Juni. You put him ahead of both of us, and you lost me because of it. You almost lost Juni because of it, and you still might if you don’t put her first over your grief.

You need to talk to someone about this. Juni probably does, too.

She only needed summer school because she had no one to help her get over the loss of her father.

” Jill wiped at her now-swollen eyes. “Be our mom now.”

“Okay, baby. Okay,” her mom replied. “I’m here. I’m sorry. I’ll figure it out, okay?”

Jill didn’t say anything then. She just held on to her mom tightly because she couldn’t remember the last time she had hugged her like this or that her mom had hugged her back like she actually meant it, and she needed it.

When she heard the front door open a few moments later, though, she pulled away and hastily wiped at her face.

“I need to clean up before Juni sees me,” she said as she stood and hurried to the guest bathroom.

Jill did need to clean up her face because she didn’t want her kid sister to see her in tears, but she also needed a moment to herself without her mom staring at her or holding her.

“Jill is here!” Juni said loudly. “I saw her car.”

She sounded excited, which made Jill smile as she stared into the bathroom mirror.

“She’s in the bathroom,” their mother replied. “We’re having spaghetti and meatballs in just a few minutes. Can you go get changed and wash up in my bathroom since Jill’s in yours?”

“Okay,” Juni said, and Jill heard her footsteps as she ran down the hall and into her bedroom.

Jill turned the faucet on, splashed her face a few times with cold water, and blew her nose into toilet paper since she didn’t see any Kleenex around.

Then, she sat down on the toilet with its closed seat and tried to catch her breath before she reached for her phone in her pocket, pressed the contact she wanted, and put it to her ear.

“Hey, babe,” Willa said.

“Hi,” Jill replied with a sniffle.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“And you’re lying,” Willa noted. “I can hear you sniffling. Did your mom do something?”

“Not exactly,” Jill said. “Can you come to dinner?”

“Tonight?”

“Like now , basically,” Jill replied. “I’m sorry. I’d understand if you can’t.”

“No, I can . But are you sure? It’s a family dinner,” Willa replied.

“Like it or not, you’re kind of family now. I mean, my mom has seen us naked in bed together and may or may not know that you fucked me with a strap-on, so…”

Willa chuckled, which made Jill smile.

“And your mom won’t mind the last-minute addition to the guest list?”

“I get the impression that my mom might give me whatever I want right now.”

“Babe, what happened?”

“I’m sitting on the toilet in the guest bathroom. Can we talk about it when you get here?”

“Yeah, of course,” Willa replied, sounding concerned. “I can be there in about twenty minutes, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you,” she said.

“You don’t have to thank me. Should I bring anything?”

“Just you. Please just bring you.”

“Okay,” Willa said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Jill hung up the phone, washed her face once more for good measure, dried herself off with a hand towel, and then left the bathroom to face the music.

“Jill!”

She turned around, seeing Juni running toward her from her mother’s room. Juni wrapped her arms around Jill’s waist, and Jill hugged her back.

“Hey, kiddo. How was school?”

“So cool! We got to show our projects today. Freddy sat next to me and told me mine was good.”

Jill knelt down and asked, “Did Miss Mailor tell you it was good, too?”

“Yes, I got an A.”

“Congrats, kid,” Jill said and held up her hand for Juni to give her a high-five. “Just remember, when you accomplish something, it’s about what you ’ve accomplished, okay? Not about what Freddy thinks.”

“Okay,” Juni replied, probably not getting Jill’s message about not letting a boy define her, but she would get it later. “Mom made spaghetti and meatballs.”

“I heard. Want to go in now?”

“Yes,” Juni said and ran into the kitchen.

When Jill got up and turned, she saw her mom standing in the doorway.

“She’s different now.”

“Who?” Jill asked.

“Juni,” her mom replied, smiling softly. “She was in her shell before, but she’s not anymore.”

“She’s excited about a boy,” Jill deflected.

“I don’t think that’s it,” her mom said. “I think it’s you.” She smiled wider.

“Well, I hope it’s a good thing, then.”

“It’s a very good thing,” her mom replied.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Willa is on her way. I hope that’s okay.”

“I made plenty of food. I hope she likes spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Who doesn’t like spaghetti and meatballs?” Juni said loudly from the kitchen.