Christina shrugged as if to say that after twenty-five years the grief got
better. Maybe it did, but the sting of not having her mom there to share the
milestones in her life remained just as potent. “I’m sorry it happened too.
After she died everything was different. My dad sent us all off to school. He
was working all the time and he couldn’t look after us. Even still, it’s like
he’s— well— he’s always been pretty cold and distant. I’ve always felt like
nothing I could ever do would be good enough for him. I was so worried
about telling him I was a lesbian, but it was like he didn’t even care enough
about me to care one way or the other. He’s a little more invested in my
brother’s lives, because I’m sure he’s hoping that they’ll take over the
company one day. He paid for our college, but it was only if we went and
got some sort of business or econ degree or something in that field. He
wouldn’t have covered it if I wanted to go to art school.”
“Jesus,” Taylor muttered again.
“I guess what I’m trying to tell you is that what happened when I was
younger is maybe the reason I don’t date anyone. I’m worried about getting
involved with someone and then not being able to— to feel properly. Or
maybe it’s feelings that I’m scared of. I know that people don’t get sick and
disappear, but people often change their minds and that hurts. I think the
ten-year-old girl who lost her mom is still inside me somewhere, and she
makes me afraid to get attached. For lots of reasons.”
“Everyone has a past. You’ve been so honest with me.” Taylor’s whole
face was soft with sympathy.
“I’ve never told anyone that before.” She’d never told anyone about the
void she felt inside of herself either. The big, empty space that her mom’s
passing left behind.
“Thank you for telling me.” Taylor looked thankful. She was the only
person on the planet who Christina had ever met who seemed to mean what
she said. “I understand that you’re scared, but I also meant what I said
about going slow. I moved to Austin because I wanted to find someone, but