Page 100 of Kiss and Tell

“I’m just…” I looked down at the floor. “I’m going through some stuff.”

“Talk to me, honey,” she said as we took our seats. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

I didn’t want to confess to her what my problems were. Being fooled by an asshole at work who I’d thought only had my best interests at heart. Sobbing for days over a boy I’d put misplaced trust in. It all sounded so juvenile compared to the high-powered, high-stakes world my mom lived in.

“Is it work?” she asked. “Or is it something else?”

“A bit of both,” I said, before going silent. I looked down at the menu but didn’t read any of the items. I also knew what I was going to get. Like mother, like daughter.

“You asked me something on the phone,” she asked patiently. “Do you want to explain?”

I played with the corner of the menu, not meeting her eyes.

“I think I screwed up,” I said quietly. “My work is interfering with my personal life and I thought I had it all under control but now everything’s messed up and—” I cut myself off as the backs of my eyes began to sting. I didn’t want to make a scene in the middle of the restaurant.

“It’s never easy, is it?” My mom’s words were sympathetic, not pandering. She sighed softly and reached across the table to take my hand.

“Honey, after your father left I threw myself into my work. Partly it was to distract myself, but I also knew I needed to provide for you.”

I looked up to meet her eyes.

“I thought you worked so hard because you loved your job,” I said.

“I enjoyed what I did, yes,” she said. “I loved the rush of scoring a new client, I loved winning industry awards. I loved the power and the prestige that came with it.”

I knew she did. I had many memories of my mother coming home with satisfied looks on her face. She never bragged, but I heard her friends talk and I knew she was a very important person at work, even though I hadn’t exactly understood what a business consultant did.

“But honey…” she gave me a sad smile. “Despite all that, I do regret not being able to spend as much time with you as the other moms could. I missed being able to just have random movie nights with you, or to play with all those dolls of yours.”

“I never felt neglected,” I told her.

“You can’t deny you spent quite a lot of time playing Barbie Dream House all by yourself,” she said wryly.

“You were always home with me, even if you were still working,” I said. “I understood you were working hard for me. I didn’t mind.”

“But I minded,” she told me. “Once I reached a point in my career where I felt stable and secure enough to slow down, it was already too late. You were a teenager, and you didn’t need me the way you did when you were younger. I missed out on a lot.”

“But you achieved so much,” I insisted. “I really look up to you. I want to be just like you. Accomplished and respected.”

“And that’s a perfectly fine goal,” she said. “All I'm saying is, life shouldn’t only be about that.”

I lowered my eyes to the table again. I had never realized my mom felt like that. I always thought that, aside from me, her career had been the most important thing in her life. I knew success and accomplishment were things she valued.

My mom squeezed my hand as she held it from across the table. I met her eyes again. Her hand was soft and her fingers were delicate. I could see the wrinkles and veins on her skin, the wrinkles that somehow she had avoided collecting on her face.

I had never been more aware of how much my mother had aged. How old she was. And how young I still was in comparison.

“I just want to make you proud of me,” I said. “I want to work hard and prove myself.”

“Quinn, I am proud of you,” she said firmly. “But you need to listen to me when I tell you something. Okay?”

“Okay,” I told her.

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

Tears pricked the back of my eyes. I thought I’d cried so much these last couple of days I didn’t have any tears left, but I was mistaken.

“I love you, Quinn,” she told me. “Yes, I’m proud of you and all your hard work. I want to see you succeed and do well in your career. But the only thing I really care about is your happiness.”