Page 48 of The Calendar of New Beginnings (Dare Valley #9)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

L ucy was still a little shaken when she finished class.

Today, she and her students had ventured to the planetarium to take photos under pressure.

Each had taken a turn, but she’d stood in the theater the whole time, her arms crossed over her chest to help quell the inner anxiety she felt from the blaring sounds of battle from the film footage.

This was another wound she’d suffered in that village—another hurt that didn’t show.

A couple students had dropped their phones. A few more promising students had stayed calm in the face of all the noise and gore, pointing and shooting with efficiency. Lucy had been impressed with their composure. She couldn’t wait to grade this next round of photos once they touched them up.

When she pulled into her driveway, she frowned. Her mother was sitting on a worn bench in what used to be a garden before Mrs. Weidman got too old to tend to it.

She’d expected there to be another face-off, but she hadn’t expected one this soon. Frankly, she wasn’t up for it.

Exiting the car as her mother stood and started walking toward her, Lucy said, “I just got home from class. Can we chat another time?”

“No,” her mother said in a harsh tone. “We cannot. Not when I have Andy Hale taking me to task for not knowing or loving my daughter. Not when he knows the real reason you’re home, and I don’t.”

Her breathing shattered. Andy had visited her mother?

Crap. Of course he had. He was a fixer. Fiery rage flashed through her. He knew she didn’t want him to interfere in her life. Well, she would deal with him later. Right now she had to figure out a way to appease her mother.

“Look. I didn’t know he was going to see you. If I’d known, I would have talked him out of it.”

Her mother’s face was pinched tight with tension. “Do you have any idea how hard I try to understand you?”

That stopped her in her tracks. “How hard you try?”

“Don’t belittle me,” her mother scolded. “Since you were little, you were different than any other kid I knew. Do you have any idea how hard it was to be a mother to a child like that?”

Her words were a hard slap to the face. “So it’s my fault for being different?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” her mother said, clutching her hands together.

“I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t know how to be a mother to a girl like you.

You never liked the same things I did. When you were in high school, all you wanted to do was go to school, hang out with Arthur Hale, or rail about human rights issues in places I didn’t know anything about.

Not once did you ever want to go shopping or get your nails done. Not like other girls.”

Lucy set her leather briefcase purse on the ground.

This was going to take a while, and she didn’t want to have this confrontation while confined in her small house.

“You’re right, Mother. I’m not like other girls.

I didn’t want the things most girls want.

But you make me feel like I’m bad. For being me. ”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Well, you make me feel like a bad mother. You think I’m shallow for wanting to do a funny and risqué calendar to honor people who’ve died of cancer. And then you shame me in front of my friends.”

“I never shamed you!” she said, shaking her head.

“Sure you did!” her mother shot back. “You did it with April and the other volunteers. This morning your father looked at me with more judgment than I’ve ever seen. Then Andy Hale came by to deliver the final punch. I’m not a bad person!”

But she clearly felt like one, or she wouldn’t be talking this way. “No, you’re not, Mother. I’m not either. We just…don’t speak the same language. I hoped that could change. Even though I’m thirty-six years old, I hoped…” Oh, crap, she wasn’t going to say it.

“What?” her mother pressed.

“Nothing.” Lucy shook her head. “We aren’t going to resolve this, Mom.”

“We certainly aren’t if you don’t finish what you were about to say. Tell me.”

She looked down at her feet, wishing the ground could swallow her. “I just wish that you could be proud of me for one teensy, weensy second. And that’s stupid because I’m the only one who should care about my accomplishments. I hate that I still want your approval.”

“Join the club,” her mother said dryly.

Lucy blinked. “You want my approval?”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to say?” her mother asked. “Ever since you could walk, your father has been everything to you. I never measured up, and since we didn’t have any more children after you despite all our hoping and trying, I didn’t have anyone else to…”

Have a second chance with , Lucy thought. As a kid, she used to ask her parents why she couldn’t have a brother or a sister like Andy did, and they’d always told her it was in God’s hands. She’d stopped asking when she was ten, sensing it upset them.

Her mother seemed to shake off the old memories. “Then you left here and did all this…stuff I didn’t understand. I felt like you judged me for staying here and living an average life. When you came back, I hoped the calendar would bring us together. Not tear us apart.”

So she hadn’t been too far off last night. Neither one of them was completely wrong—or right. “That’s what I wanted too,” she said sadly.

“Then Andy Hale shoved his camera in my face today after I got out of the hot tub.”

The hot tub? Served him right for interfering. “Seriously?”

“He’s a real prude, Lucy. I’m a little worried for you, but that’s not the point. He showed me the photo you took of him while he was thinking about Kim.”

The one she’d sent him earlier in the morning. “He didn’t like it at first.”

Her mother nodded. “That’s what he said. But then he realized you were capturing the love he still had for Kim despite everything. That he was moving forward and living with it. He said that was what your photos of Jill and Rhett and Old Man Jenkins showed too.”

If Lucy had had a chair behind her, she would have sat down. He got it. He got her . She’d thought so last night, but this confirmed it one hundred percent.

“I got to thinking about what he said,” her mother continued, twisting her wedding ring. “I’m not saying you’re completely wrong about the photos, but I’m not saying I’m completely right either.”

For her mother, it was a giant admission. “I’d come to the same conclusion. Even though I wanted you to be wrong.” She gave her mother a wry smile.

“Your father said we’re alike that way,” she said, smiling in return.

“That’s why we always butt heads. He also gave me the first ultimatum he’s ever given me in our forty-plus years together.

He told me to say I’m sorry. That you’re our daughter, and we won’t lose you because of this. And I don’t want to lose you, Lucy.”

Lucy’s heart finally broke open, and the hurt rolled through. “I don’t want to lose you either, Mom.”

Her mother sniffed. “So, I’ll say I’m sorry and really mean it. And I’ll try a little harder to understand you, and I’ll hope you’ll do the same for me.”

In her whole life, her mother had never apologized to her. “Thank you for saying that. I know it wasn’t easy. I’m sorry too, Mom.”

“And I want you to do the calendar,” she said, “but I’d really like you to share the process more with me if it wouldn’t be too much trouble. It’s hard to admit I really don’t know you and why you chose those photos. But I’d like to.”

Well, that put a lump in her throat. “I’d like that too.”

“Oh, come here,” her mother said, grabbing her in a hug. “We might fight like cats and dogs, but I still love you.”

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s what some people call tough love.”

Her mother pushed her back and stared into her eyes.

“It’s about to get tougher. Why are you home, Lucy?

Because it’s damn well past time you told me the whole story and not that vague crap you told your father.

I know you’ve gotten cozy with Andy Hale, but it chaps my hide that he knows why you’re back and I don’t. ”

Lucy sighed. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make some tea and tell you. Just promise me you won’t turn all crazy on me and become Caretaker Mom.”

“Like I’d agree to something like that in advance,” her mother said, grabbing her forearm and leading her toward the house. “Do I look stupid?”

“Never,” Lucy answered. “But I’d still like you to agree to try and be reasonable when you hear why I’m back.” Hopefully, it wouldn’t change her mind about Lucy’s suitability for doing the calendar.

Her mother stopped her as she opened the front door. “It’s that bad?”

“It’s not great.”

Her mother pushed her inside. “Then I’ll try, and whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

Lucy could live with that. She headed to the kitchen to make tea.