“It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with your father.” Her tone is faintly bitter. “He’s busy working. Or worrying about you. I didn’t see where I fit into the equation, so I lashed out at you whenever I could. And that’s awful. I was jealous of your relationship with your father. I felt pushed out of our family of three.”
I hate that she felt that way, but I hate worse that she took it out on me when I was just a kid who wanted both of their attention.
She releases a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Wren. I hope you can forgive me.”
When she grabs hold of my hand, as if that’s all she could dare to touch for fear of being rejected, I pull her closer and wrap my arms around her, resting my head on her shoulder. We cling to each other for a long, silent time, and I think she might be crying.
I’m a little misty-eyed too.
Eventually she pulls away first, sliding her fingers under each eye to catch any stray tears, a watery laugh leaving her. My mother has never been an overly emotional person. “Why did he give you a Keith Haring camera? I’m curious.”
“I went to his family’s apartment yesterday,” I admit. “And I was admiring the Keith Haring painting they have.”
“Two Dancing Dogs?” she asks.
I nod, not surprised she’d know which one it was. “It’s beautiful. I told him I liked it. And he sends me this.”
I hold up the camera.
“How sweet.” A soft sigh leaves her. “Young love. First love. Enjoy it, darling. There’s nothing else like it.”
“Oh, I don’t think he loves me,” I’m quick to say. “It hasn’t been very long…whatever this is that we’re doing.”
“Modern love.” Another sigh leaves her and she slowly shakes her head. “This is where I admit I feel old and don’t understand the ways of teenagers anymore.”
“I don’t think we’re that different from when you were a teen,” I say.
“There are a few differences. Social media, for one.” She stands and starts heading for the door. “You can go back to sleep now. I was just curious over what he sent you today.”
Mom shuts the door behind her and I flop back onto the bed, reaching for my phone so I can send Crew a text.
Me: Got your gift. I love it. Thank you.
He responds almost immediately.
Crew: You’re welcome. Want to come over for a photo sesh?
I’m smiling so wide it hurts.
Me: I’m surprised you’re awake.
Crew: My brother called me at seven. Such an asshole.
Me: What did he want?
Crew: He’s been helping me out with something.
Me: ???
Crew: Can’t explain it over text. I’ll tell you later.
Crew: Did you like the camera?
Me: I LOVED IT. A Keith Haring camera? So awesome.
Crew: This way you don’t have to risk saving the images on your phone. In case your dad figures out your password.
Me: No one will figure out my password. Not even you.