But she knew she had to let the anger go. The first step: identifying its cause. Well, that was easy. It was Willow. It was Willow and her terrible mothering, her complete lack of empathy or sympathy or common sense. Was Willow just doing the best she knew how? Yes, maybe her best was terrible. But it was still her best. They didn’t have to be best friends, but they could have a peaceful relationship. Right?
Maybe.
The self development books Summer read—and she read lots of them—said forgiveness was key. It was the vehicle to inner peace. “Forgiveness isn’t for the person you’re forgiving. It’s for you.”
But how do you forgive? Summer wondered. Especially when the person had no idea what she’d done or how much she’d hurt you?
That was the rub.
***
Dr. Strasser wanted to know how Willow’s actions made Summer feel. Of course, “angry” escaped her lips first.
“Dig deeper,” Dr. Strasser said. “I want to know how her actions made you feel then, as a child.”
Summer took a deep breath. Because she’d spent so much time reliving her childhood recently, the emotions were right on the surface. “Lonely,” she said. “Sad. And something else. Something important, but I can’t really put a name to it.”
Dr. Strasser simply tilted his head, waiting.
“Longing. A deep sense of longing. Like I wanted something more, but I could never have it.”
Now, Dr. Strasser nodded. She couldn’t tell if he was nodding because he suspected this all along, or because she was putting her feelings into words. She waited, unsure about what else to say. Anger, sadness and longing pretty much summed it up.
“What else?” Dr. Strasser said.
“I think I’m angry now because she waltzed back into my life like nothing ever happened. Like she wasn’t a terrible mother. And she wants to be a part of this world I’ve worked so hard to construct. But not because she missed me or loves me. It’s because she wants it for herself, so she can feel like a good mother.”
“Your mother sounds like she has a touch of narcissism,” he said.
“A touch?” Summer laughed.
“Well, I’ve never spoken with her,” he said. “So I can’t say for sure. But the best thing you can do for yourself is to move forward. Create what you want now, and live it. It’s time to disconnect yourself from that part of your past and all the pain you associate with it.”
“It’s just so hard when she’s here now.”
“It can be. That’s perfectly normal. If you want her to be a part of your children’s lives, as you say you do, then you need to resolve your feelings about what happened before. You can’t let her past actions control the way you feel and behave now. Forgiveness is about taking back your personal power.”
When he put it that way, Summer felt like forgiveness was within reach. Maybe, just maybe, she could achieve it.
***
Of course, Willow wasn’t going to make forgiveness easy on Summer. Why would she? She started sending Summer text messages several times each day:
I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to meet your father.
I’d think after all these years you’d be curious.
And what about your brother? You always said you wanted a sibling.
My feelings are really hurt. I planned that meeting for you.
I can’t believe you’d treat me this way after everything I’ve done for you.
“At least she’s giving me the opportunity to practice maintaining inner calm,” Summer said to Derek one night as they got into bed. “Gotta be grateful for that.”
Derek pulled Summer’s body toward his. “Keep this in mind: by being a crappy mother, Willow taught you how to be a good one. You can be grateful for that, too.”
Summer nodded, and said, “I just wish I could be grateful for something positive she did.”
“She gave you life. And without life, you wouldn’t have gotten me.”
Summer chuckled sleepily and turned to face him. She kissed him gently, and he ran a hand down her side.
“Can we stop all this talking, now, and just do it?” Derek asked.
Again, she laughed, and she let him pull her into a whole different state of being.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The experts said you didn’t have to reconcile with someone in order to forgive her. Summer understood the concept on an academic level, but it felt so difficult to put into practice, especially because Willow never seemed to realize she did anything wrong.
Forgiving her for past hurts was one thing. Let bygones be bygones. Let wounds heal, or at least cover them up.
But then what? The kids would want to spend time with their grandmother and it would be unfair to them to keep her from them. It wasn’t as if Willow treated them the same way she had treated Summer as a child. But her mere presence had the potential to cause even more pain in the future. Summer had the capacity to steel herself against Willow’s hurtful words and actions, but did the kids?
Did this mean Summer would have to forgive her mother over and over again?
Days turned into weeks, and Summer turned the conversation over and over in her mind. It was like kneading bread, and her brain became tired of the repetitive motions.
Luke’s health was back to normal. He ran around the house as if his entire body hadn’t been cut wide open just a month ago. In fact, he had more energy than ever. Whenever the constant running, jumping off couches and sword fighting started to grate on Summer’s nerves, she reminded herself she should be grateful for the health of all her children.
Olivia was developing quite a personality, smiling every time someone made eye contact. Sarah was growing up so nicely, and she began to help with the cooking and cleaning. She read some of Summer’s favorite books from childhood and they discussed “Where the Red Fern Grows” and “The Indian in the Cupboard.” They baked brownies together, chatting about Sarah’s friends at school and their plans for the summer. Even Nate started helping around the house, gathering laundry without being asked (or told) and corralling Hannah while Summer cooked dinner. He’d become quite adept at getting her to eat vegetables for a snack, by flying them into her mouth like pterodactyls while she sat in her high chair.
Derek had stopped walking on eggshells whenever he and Summer talked, and the ease with which they communicated felt refreshing. Summer felt easy and calm. As if everything was falling into place.
Yet, something niggled at the back of her mind. She couldn’t even say why, exactly, but she wanted to fix things between her and Willow. Since the day Summer walked out of their house at nineteen years old, she felt perfectly content not to have Willow in her life.
But then Willow came back. No, she still didn’t act like the mother figure Summer always wished for. No, she wasn’t helpful. She wasn’t warm and fuzzy. She wasn’t supportive. But she was family. She was Summer’s mother. Plus, a part of Summer wanted to be the bigger person. It was just so hard.
***
Since Willow first showed up on the Grays’ doorstep, she had been the one reaching out. She called again after Summer sent her away. She planned the surprise family reunion and sent innumerable follow-up texts.
Each time, Summer welcomed her in a completely unwelcoming way. Now, Summer decided, it was her turn to reach out. Because maybe she needed to seek forgiveness as well as give it.
Seek forgiveness for what? Winter asked. Summer could hear the sneer in her alter ego’s voice.
Perhaps Willow’s initial reappearance and continued communication were her own type of apology. And Summer stood immovable. She hadn’t been willing to bend at all in acceptance of Willow’s olive branch.
Monday morning, Veronica came over to watch the kids. Summer resolved to call Willow before noon. Between projects, she picked up the phone several times, looked at the screen, let her fingers hover over the keyboard and set her phone down again.
At eleven on the nose, she dialed Willow’s number. Willow
picked up after three rings, and Summer wondered if she was putting as much thought into the number of rings as Summer was. Three meant she hadn’t been waiting. She hadn’t jumped to answer it right away. But she hadn’t let it ring too long, either.
“Summer.”
“Hi, Mom.”
Summer hadn’t called Willow Mom (without prompting) since she was nineteen years old. They both chose not to say anything about it.
Willow spoke first. “I’m glad you called.”
“I was wondering if you wanted to meet,” Summer said.
Instead of saying something snarky like, “I wanted to meet a few weeks ago, but you stood me up,” Willow surprised Summer by saying, “I’d like that.”
They seemed to be dancing on thin, fragile ice, each of them being careful not to create even the beginning of a crack. It felt a bit awkward, Summer thought, but it also felt vindicating to know Willow was treading lightly, thinking before speaking as she’d rarely done before. Although the conversation consisted primarily of small talk and scheduling, Summer could feel the subtle difference in Willow. She was gentler. Less pushy. Softer. The hard edges didn’t poke through the phone line and impede Summer’s sense of being.
After agreeing to meet at eight the next morning, they hung up and Summer experienced a sense of hopeful anticipation she’d given up on years ago where Willow was concerned. Summer wanted to like her mother. She wanted Willow to be at the top of her list when she had exciting news to share, or when she needed advice. Just because it hadn’t been that way before, didn’t mean it couldn’t be that way now. They didn’t have to be best friends, or even friends. But they could be mother and daughter again. In a different, healthy way.
Maybe things could get better. Maybe Willow could change.
Or, Winter said, maybe not.
***
True to her word, Willow arrived at Summer’s house just after eight the following morning. She smiled warmly, as if they’d been BFFs for the past fifteen years rather than estranged mother and daughter.
“Hi, Darling,” she said. She opened her arms.
Although the embrace felt completely foreign and unnatural, Summer leaned forward and let Willow wrap her arms around her. Willow rubbed her back and then patted it a few times. After what felt like an eternity, Willow grabbed Summer’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length.
“It’s such a treat to be here,” she said.
Summer cocked her head to one side. “What do you mean? You’ve been here for weeks.”
Willow threw her head back and laughed. Summer could see a filling in one of her back teeth.
“But you’ve never invited me,” she said. “Until now.”
I’m a horrible daughter.
“That’s true,” she said. “I should have invited you earlier. Would you like to sit down? Have some coffee or something?”
Willow stopped in the entryway. The offer surprised her. During the past several weeks, Summer had practically ignored Willow’s presence. Instead of offering Willow coffee and a place to sit, Summer would carry on with her dish-washing or clothes-folding.
“So, what’s the occasion?” Willow said. “What convinced you to invite me over?”
I need to talk to you,” Summer said.
“So talk.” Summer was surprised Willow’s words didn’t hold any sarcasm.
“Let’s sit,” Summer said. “Why don’t we sit at the kitchen table?”
Willow sat, and Summer moved to the counter to fill the coffee pot with water and put fresh grounds in a filter. She sat back down as the coffeemaker gurgled.
“So?” Willow said. “What did you want to talk about?”
Summer looked out the window, and then back at Willow.
“Should we wait for the coffee?”
“Suits me fine,” Willow said.
Neither of them had ever been good at small talk. Or sitting still, for that matter. Willow clasped her hands together so hard on the tabletop that her knuckles were white and Summer realized with a start that her mother was nervous. The coffeemaker gurgled, signaling the end of its cycle. Summer stood up and poured them each a cup.
“It’s decaf,” she said apologetically as she set Willow’s on the table in front of her.
Willow shrugged and took a sip. “It’s fine,” she said. “Good, actually.”
Summer sipped her coffee, contemplating the words she’d choose.
“So what’s up?” Willow said.
Summer took a deep breath. It’s now or never, Winter said.
“I wanted to apologize.”
It was difficult, but Summer dragged her eyes away from the tiny bubbles floating at the top of her coffee and made eye contact with Willow.
Willow looked surprised. “For what, Honey?”
“For what?” Winter said. Shit. If she doesn’t know, why tell her?
Summer felt a laugh, harsh and obnoxious, leave her mouth.
“For not being as … welcoming as I should have been, I guess,” Summer said. “For not trusting you were here with good intentions. For all of it.”
Willow nodded, almost as if she’d been expecting Summer to say something like this. Almost, Summer thought, the anger seeping in again, as if she thought she deserved an apology. Summer tamped the rising anger down.
“Thank you,” she said. She, too, had been examining the contents of her cup, but she looked up at Summer then. “It means a lot.”
Summer saw Willow’s hand move away from her mug as if she wanted to reach out and touch her. But she stopped herself and wrapped her hands around the mug again. “I have to admit,” she said. “I expected you to be happier to see me. I expected you to accept my help.”
Summer nodded.
Not that you’ve been much help, Winter said. Summer pushed her voice away.
“I know,” Summer said. “And I’m sorry. I’m just not used to it. I mean, Derek is a huge help, of course, and—”
“Obviously!” Winter said, cackling with crazed humor. “You couldn’t have made all those babies on your own!”
Summer fought every urge she had to lash out at Willow.
“I just meant to say, I’m not used to your help. To having that extra set of hands. And I didn’t know how to accept it graciously. So I’m sorry. I want to have a relationship with you.”
Willow nodded again, less smug this time, and more like she was listening to what Summer had to say. At first, she didn’t speak. Summer braced herself when Willow took a deep breath.
“Summer, I need to apologize, too.”
“What?”
Summer had to fight the urge to pretend to clean her ears like she did when one of the kids said something off the wall.
“I went to a meeting,” Willow said, staring into her coffee, her eyes unfocused as her mind saw something different. “An AA meeting. And they talked about making amends. I need to do that with you.”
Summer froze. Make amends? Was that similar to apologizing? She should Google it.
“Wait, Willow. I think that’s, like, Step Nine, isn’t it? Have you done One through Eight?”
Willow laughed, a dry, harsh sound.
“Not yet, Summer. But I’ve been working on it. I read through some literature, and it struck me that I need to make amends with you. I need to apologize to you.”
“For what?”
Yes, asking Willow what she was apologizing for was a test. Yes, she had her own list of things for which she thought Willow should make reparations. But she wondered what Willow’s looked like.
“The list is pretty long, isn’t it?” Willow said.
Summer looked up, and their eyes met. “It is,” she said.
Willow nodded. The Willow of the past would have searched for excuses or pointed out everything she had done right. She would say, “You never missed a meal,” or “I was a single mother and I did the best I could with what I had.”
But today, she said none of those things.
“I’m sorry, Summer. I’m s
orry for leaving you at the grocery store when you were little. I’m sorry for drinking away your youth. I’m sorry for beating you with a shoe. I’m sorry for being less than you deserve, back then and now during the past few weeks. I’m sorry for showing up unannounced and acting like I don’t agree with your choices. The truth is, I am proud of you. I admire what you’ve done with your life. I envy the relationship you have with Derek, and the way your children look at you. You never looked at me like that.”
Where did all this introspection come from? Winter wondered. Summer swatted her away.
“I appreciate your apology,” Summer said.
To Summer’s surprise, Willow went on: “I’m sorry for being a terrible mother, then and now. I want you to know I’m working on it. I want to be better. I’m not sure if we can ever get to the point where you consider me a source of support rather than a source of irritation.”
Summer surprised herself by snorting out a laugh. “You have been irritating lately.”
Willow’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Summer immediately felt guilty. “Sorry. I was just kidding. I want us to get along better, too. I really appreciate you coming this morning.”
“So you accept my apology?”
Summer nodded. “I do. And I forgive you. Do you accept mine?”
“I do,” Willow said.
***
Once Summer and Willow got their official apologies out of the way, Willow seemed to relax in her chair. Her features softened and she took a few sips of her coffee.
“So now what?” she said. “Can I still come over and see my grandchildren once in a while?”
“I suppose,” Summer said. “They seem to like you an awful lot.” After a long pause, she asked, “What’s next for you?”
Willow shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I need to get my own place. And I have a few more amends to make.”
“Yeah?” Summer said. “To whom?”
“Well, your father for one,” Willow said.
The Motherhood Intervention: Book 3 in the Intervention Series Page 25