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Page 21
“I want to see my daughter.” There is an air of arrogance about this woman. Her posture is rigid, and her tone is clipped. It’s as if she thinks she’s too good to be standing outside, speaking with me.
I have zero concern about her ego or comfort or overinflated sense of self-importance.
“Do you care if your daughter wants to see you?”
The fact that she already feels like she has the right to Noah is not a good sign.
“Of course she wants to see me. I don’t know who you are, young man, but if you know where Noah is, then you need to tell me.”
Me. Me. Me. That’s all I’ve heard from her.
I need to tell her.
I don’t need to do shit.
There is nothing funny about this situation, but I find myself chuckling.
“There is a coffee place down the road. Come with me, and we’ll talk this out.” I point in the general direction of the establishment.
“I’m not going with you anywhere. Who do you think you are? I’ll find her myself.”
She moves toward Benson and Madison’s home but takes only a few steps before my words stop her in her tracks.
“I’m the man who loves Noah. You won’t find her in that house, and no one there will tell you where she is either. If you want to speak to Noah, you’re going to have to go through me. So, let’s go, coffee down the street.” There is no room for miscommunication as I lay my terms down on the table.
I walk without even checking if she follows. She came all this way, so I assume she’s behind me. Her heels click against the cement as I walk, which alerts me that I’m right.
Two women who look so much alike couldn’t be more different. I could sense that from the moment I saw her up close.
After walking for a few minutes, we reach the shop, and I hold the door open. I haven’t completely forgotten my manners. I follow her inside, and we get coffee and then sit. My morning just took a drastic turn. I almost wish I were still berating the steering while stuck in traffic. No, I totally wish that were where I still was.
“I want to see her.” Her stern voice sets me on edge, and her insistence rubs me the wrong way. She’s testing my control in every possible way.
“No. That isn’t how this is going to work.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I hold my hand up and lean forward. “After all these years, after what you did, why do you think you have the right to demand anything? You haven’t asked me how she is or if she wants to see you or anything. You’re just demanding what you want. You’re going to answer my questions, and Noah will decide if she wants to see you.”
Her nose turns up, and a vein in her forehead pulses. “Are you daft? Of course she wants to see me. I’m her mother.”
Even though I’m getting to her, her voice reflects that she doesn’t have a care in the world. I’m not so sure that’s true. She’s here, isn’t she? Something isn’t right.
“Are you? Is that the title you claim?” My hands grip on to the seat of my chair.
“I gave birth to her, so I most certainly am.” She delicately blows on her drink.
“You legally gave up those rights years ago, didn’t you though?” Yeah, bitch, I know what you did. “So, cut the pretentious crap. I know Noah, what’s inside her heart and everything she’s been through. I can’t speak for her, but if I had to call it, I’d say she’d choose to meet with you once I tell her you were here. Before that happens, you’re going to answer to me first, and I’m going to do whatever I have to in order to protect her. How about we start with you telling me your name? Then, we can move on to why you’re here.”
“My name is Catherine.” Her response is short and direct and full of contempt.
“Great, Catherine. I’m Brazen. I’m Noah’s boyfriend.”
“I see,” she says like she hates her daughter’s taste in men.
That’s rich.
“I’m assuming your husband doesn’t know you’re here. Am I right?” In the letter, Catherine told Noah that she never told Mark that she had a daughter, and I doubt that has changed.
“That’s between me and my husband.” Another nonanswer.
He doesn’t know. I don’t need her confirmation.
“Okay, so what will you tell me? Because you’re going to need to give me something.”
“You can’t judge me. I assume you don’t have kids. So, you have no idea what it’s like. Noah is a piece of me, and I don’t owe you any sort of explanations, no matter what pieces of the story you’ve heard.”
Every limb in my body tenses, and I want so badly just to lay into her. Yeah, there are always three sides to every story, but the only one that matters to me is Noah’s. I raise my eyebrow, not needing to say anything in response. Apparently, she has already forgotten that I read the letter she’d sent. My hold on the paper-thin coffee cup increases, and it ever so slightly bends to my will. Catherine weighs her options, and I wait. Her fingers idly tap against the table, and her knee bounces up and down.
“It’s been twelve years since I’ve seen my daughter. She’s no longer the little girl I knew. I’ve wondered every day how she’s doing and if she misses me. If you want to judge me, then fine, go ahead, I can’t stop you. But I’m here now, and I came a long way. I just want to see my daughter.”
At least she’s talking, but what she’s telling me is still mostly all about her.
The woman is selfish to her core. I am judging, and that’s my stance on her.
“You’re here only because you want to see her, right? There isn’t anything else that you’re leaving out? Tell me now if you’re here to drop a bomb or pull the rug from beneath her.”
“That’s all. That’s the reason I’m here.” Once again, she turns her nose up at me as if she can’t believe she has to answer to me.
And, still, I don’t care. This woman has the capability of causing mass amounts of emotional distress.
“Give me your number. I’ll let Noah know that you’re in town and leave the decision up to her. If she doesn’t want to see you, there is nothing I can do about that. I hope that you’ll respect that, too. If you don’t hear from us, then don’t stick around. Go back, and leave her alone.” I wait for her to find a pen and scribble her number onto a napkin before I stand, feeling as if I’ve said everything I need to.
“Brazen, I need for her to call me, please.” For the first time, there is something different in her voice, and it smells like desperation.
I’ll make no promises, not to her. As clearly and as directly as I can, I repeat my argument, “The choice is Noah’s. You made decisions for her years ago that were out of her hands, and now, this is out of yours.”
I leave Catherine sitting at the table by herself.
For me, work is over for today. I’m headed home since that’s where Noah is studying for her exam. On the drive over, I think about what I’ll say and attempt to predict how Noah will react. The truth is, I don’t exactly know. When she burned the letter from her mom, I was positive she’d let her past go with the rising smoke, but neither of us anticipated this surprise visit. I could just not tell her about her mom showing up. It would be so easy to just toss away the napkin, go home, and make love to the girl I want to spend my life with.
That would make me just as bad as the woman sitting inside the coffee shop, and I refuse to take the decision away from Noah.
It doesn’t mean that I don’t hope she doesn’t want to see her mother.
After I pull up in our driveway, I spend a good ten minutes in the truck before I head inside. I find Noah on the bed with a plethora of books scattered around her. She flashes me an unreal smile, surprised to see me when I enter our bedroom. I hate to do this.
“We need to talk,” I tell her, attempting and failing to keep the concern from my voice.
“What’s going on? Has there been news about Matt’s trial?”
No, that’s still a long way off. We won’t have more information about that piece of garbage for months.
“You have to be joking.”
Her posture closes in on itself, and I take big steps toward her so that I can hold her in my arms.
“No, baby, this isn’t a joke. She was outside your old place this morning when I arrived on site. She wants to see you. We went for coffee, and she says she’s just here for you, but I don’t think I believe her. It felt like she was hiding something, and I believe there is definitely something she wasn’t telling me. I took her number down and told her it was up to you.”
I don’t want to scare Noah, but I also want her to be prepared for whatever happens if she decides to meet with Catherine. The minutes of silence stretch on. Noah doesn’t respond or give me any inclination about what she wants to do. My hands run through her hair while she thinks things through. All the while, my disapproval of Catherine runs through my head.
I can be nothing but patient while Noah makes this decision.
So, I stay with her and wait it out, wondering what Noah will do.
Noah
I couldn’t even bring myself to text or call. I had Brazen do it. Yet, here I sit, waiting for my mother to arrive. Brazen’s hand rests on my leg. He’s been worried, but he’s given me time to make my own decision on this.
“She looks like you. Did you know?” Brazen makes an attempt to distract me.
The woman who gave birth to me is late for the meeting he said she’d all but begged for, which is more than a little annoying. Still, a small piece of me hopes that everything will click into place when she arrives. She’s my mom. The six-year-old inside me feels like she’s finally getting something she’s been waiting years for.
“I probably knew at some point in my life, but it’s hard for me to picture her appearance.” I close my eyes and try to imagine her, but it’s nothing but darkness.
“Do you want me to leave you alone when she gets here?”
“We might not have to worry about that if she doesn’t show.”
“She’ll show.” He sounds so sure.
“How do you know?” I’m not sure she’ll show, and frankly, I’m not even positive I want her to. Things might be so much easier if she just left me hanging today.
The little girl of years ago fights with the abandoned adult inside me.
Do I want her to show, or do I want her to stand me up?
“Because she’s here.” He motions toward the door with the angle of his face.
“Don’t leave me, Brazen. I don’t want to be alone with her.” I quickly spill out the words as the host leads my mother to our table. I’m clutching his arm so tightly, I might even be pulling out a few of his hairs.
“I won’t go anywhere, baby. Just breathe. I’m here.”
Brazen is right. She does look like me.
I hold all the air in my lungs and count her steps as she nears.
“Noah, darling.” Her voice is formal and measured, and she makes no attempt at physical contact with me, not a hug or even a handshake. “Thank you for meeting me.”
She sits without acknowledging Brazen next to me, which makes me bristle a bit. He’s unaffected by her rudeness, and he simply sits by my side. I keep silent and wait for her to say more.
“It’s so good to see you.” She sets her purse on her lap and fidgets with the silverware, as if inspecting it.
I don’t know what I expected, but she’s not it.
“It’s good to see you, too, Catherine.” I didn’t know I was going to call her that, but it’s what came out.
She flinches, and her left eye twitches.
“I’d prefer it if you called me Mom, Noah. It’s disrespectful not to do so,” she scolds me and speaks as if I’m the six-year-old that she left behind.
Anger swarms inside me.
She can’t reprimand me, not after what she did.
The little girl inside me turns, glares at Catherine, and sidles up next to the abandoned adult—a united front.
“Respect, huh?” That’s rich. “I’m sorry, but I’m not comfortable calling a stranger Mom.” I don’t feel bad for how I feel.
Catherine looks down at the table and unfolds her napkin to put on her lap. “There’s no reason for you to be catty. I’m here to see you.” She calmly looks back up.
“There’s no reason for me to be upset, right? You’re here after abandoning me completely. You didn’t even say a real good-bye or explain that you were leaving. It’s all water under the bridge? It’s been twelve years! I have news for you. Time hasn’t been standing still while you’ve been living in wedded bliss with your husband.” The anger and hurt and resentment are unstoppable. There is over a decade’s worth of things I could never say that are spilling out.
“Wedded bliss.” She pauses, and her lip trembles. “Huh. That’s how you think things ended for me? Why would I be here if everything had worked out the way I planned?”
The waiter comes to take our order, and Catherine steels her face, placing her order without looking up from the menu.
Once the server is gone, she speaks again, “He left me. I’d given that man everything I could ever give. He’s the only man that I ever truly felt loved me back. I gave you away so that I could keep him, and like some cliché, he left me for a new convertible and a younger woman.”
She gave him everything.
She loved him.
She chose him over me.
And he left her.
It all clicks. Oh, the vicious irony.
“You’re here because he threw you away, just like you did me. So, you thought, now that he no longer wants you, we could reconnect? Is that it, Catherine?”
Brazen was right. She isn’t here to simply see me. She isn’t here to apologize or to beg my forgiveness or to try to make things right.
“I wanted to enjoy a nice lunch before we dove into anything else, but it seems like you aren’t going to let that happen. After all these years apart, I thought we could spend some time together. It’s our second chance.”
One she never would have come after if her husband hadn’t kicked her to the curb.
“A second chance? Who said I wanted one? Was my moving across the country not a big enough hint that I wanted nothing to do with you? I spent my entire childhood at an orphanage because you chose a man over your own daughter.”
“You’re being dramatic. I told you how much he meant to me.”
“You know what? When you toss that pathetic excuse at me, all I hear is, I didn’t love you enough. At least you are getting a tiny glimpse of what it was like for me to be cast aside by someone who was supposed to love me. Now, tell me what you really want.”
“Mark moved his girlfriend in, and I’ve been staying at a hotel, but that’s hardly a home. I haven’t had a job or paid bills in years, Noah. I can’t be all alone. I’m not made for that sort of life. I don’t know how to live like that anymore, especially without you. I need a place to stay. I need you.”
None of that is my fault or my problem. Maybe that makes me cold. Maybe it makes me every bit as horrible as she is. And maybe it doesn’t.
“So, you came here, hoping that I would take you in? Well, that isn’t going to happen. You never should have come here at all.”
Our food comes, and Catherine keeps her head down to her plate. Brazen’s hand, which has been steady on my leg this whole time, rubs up and down, offering silent comfort. His quiet presence has helped me to find strength during this entire fiasco. He has this way about him that is so supportive, and he allows me to handle things on my own but also lets me know he has my back. He doesn’t even need to speak for me to feel it.
I look over at him and mouth, I love you, and he returns the silent words.
I start eating my lunch while our atmosphere is bathed in awkward silence. The restaurant seems to grow louder as our company stays quiet. A boisterous woman at the table next to us cackles through bites of food. An older ge
ntleman in the corner is red-faced and in the middle of a coughing fit. A toddler screams for dessert across the room. All of these background noises makes my anxiety worsen.
More than half of my salad is gone before Catherine speaks again, “If you aren’t going to help me, then there’s no reason for me to be in your life. I need you, Noah, and you’re just shutting me out.” She looks up at me with silent pain in her eyes.
Where was that pain on the day she went to the courthouse to give up her rights? Where was that regret when I was sitting in that orphanage, wondering what I had done to make my mom give me away?
Not allowing this does make me feel bad, but at this point, I need to look out for myself. It’s just the way it needs to be.
“You don’t need me. You need something from me. Money. A place to stay. Not a daughter, and that’s fine because I don’t want a mother, not anymore. I do have a few questions of my own that I’d like answered though.” I wouldn’t have done this today had she been more receptive, but if this is the last time I’ll see her, then I have to ask.
“So, you’re turning me away, but you’d still like something from me? Is that how it is?” She shoots me an undignified look and shakes her head before jumping up from the table and stomping her foot.
Seriously?
Brazen speaks for the first time since my mother arrived, “I’ve held my tongue, Catherine, but you need to watch what you say. Noah doesn’t owe you a thing. She didn’t have to come here at all, and to be honest, it’s probably more than someone else in her situation would have done. Do us all a favor; knock off the holier-than-thou attitude, and answer some questions. It’s the least you could do after what you put her through.”
I let out a huge sigh and wait for her reaction.
She sits back down and lowers her voice. “What do you want to know?” Once again, Catherine directs her attention to me and ignores Brazen.
“In all those years, why didn’t you come to see me?”
“You were young, and I figured coming in and out of your life would be worse than what I’d already done.”