“Gone.” The word burst out before I could stop it. “That’s what I think.”
“Hmmm. Not surprising. For most of your life, you’ve oriented yourself around a missing maternal figure—actually, around two missing parental figures, but I think because you experienced multiple abandonment scenarios that concerned a woman, it’s the mother role that affected you most deeply.”
“Thanks for reminding me of all the high points in my past,” I remarked dryly. “Really appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Brooke never let my sarcasm get to her. “But I’d like you to begin shifting your point of view—to look at the word mother in a different way—as a self-descriptor. Close your eyes. Say the word out loud, and this time, picture yourself.”
I didn’t think much of this kind of therapy—I was more a talk it out and figure my own shit kind of woman—but I trusted Brooke. She didn’t ask me to step out of my comfort zone in this manner very often, so when she did, I knew it was for a good reason.
“Okay. Fine.” I rested my head on the back of the soft chair and closed my eyes. I took a deep, centering breath and let it out. And then I murmured the word to myself.
“Mother.”
It was harder than I’d expected to see myself. Instead, a slow roll of other images flashed before my eyes: the odd stereotypical mix of women I’d made up to represent my biological mom, and then some of the foster mothers I’d known in childhood—the good and the not-so-great. Finally, Lana and Daneen’s smiling faces, their love and pride shining . . . I sighed softly and mentally pushed them aside to make room for myself.
I’d never seen myself as a mother. It took me aback a little to realize that, but I steadied my breath again and intentionally linked my own face with the idea of motherhood. I imagined standing in the small room upstairs at my house, looking down into a pretty white crib where a tiny baby was asleep. I felt an intense, protective love and a sense of both peace and anxiety. I knew that nothing in the world stood between this small innocent soul and danger—except me.
But as the mother, I was somehow enough.
“Alison.” Brooke touched my arm, and my eyes flew open. She had a box of tissues in her hand, passing them to me, and I was astonished to realize that my cheeks were wet with tears.
“What did you think?” she inquired after a moment.
“That I was enough. That I could be enough.” I blew my nose. “I might not know much, but I know for damn sure I’d never let anyone hurt my child. I’d die protecting my baby.” I bowed my head. “I’d never leave her, and I’d sure as hell never choose a man over her. Or him.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t.” Brooke smiled. “Now, Alison, realizing this and accepting it doesn’t obligate you to any choice, you know. It’s just important to know that you have the capacity—that you make your decision from a place of understanding, self-acceptance, and strength—not out of fear or weakness.”
I nodded. “I get that. Thank you.” I rolled my shoulders, easing some of the tension there. “I’m starting to get more comfortable with the idea of being pregnant—even if I haven’t made up my mind yet about what comes next.”
“Still no word from Noah?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’ve done everything, including showing up on his doorstep, and he didn’t let me in.”
“Are you serious? Well, when are you planning to go again?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Not sure I am yet. I’m actually thinking of making a quick trip to California at the end of this week, so maybe after I get back from there.”
“What’s in California?” Brooke asked.
I stared down at the table between us. “I’ve told you about my last foster mothers, Lana and Daneen. Lana died a while back, and Daneen has Alzheimer’s. She’s in a care facility in Marin County, outside San Francisco. Her doctor called this morning and said she’d been hospitalized—congestive heart failure. She’s okay, they’re going to treat her and send her back to the nursing home, but the doctor said it would be a good idea for me to visit sooner than later. I guess it’s only a matter of time.”
“I’m sorry, Alison. That’s got to be difficult. Does Daneen have other relatives?”
“No. Just me.” I spread my fingers over my jean-covered thigh. “She and Lana were it. Daneen’s family stopped talking to her when she came out to them. Lana’s parents were very supportive, I guess, but she was an only child, and her mom and dad had both passed away before I knew Lana. I didn’t know that Daneen had made me her power of attorney until I had to move her to the care facility.”
“I think it’s a great idea for you to go see her. It might give you a little distance and perspective about everything right now.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” I sat up a little straighter. “So . . . I guess I’ll see you when I get back. Maybe the week after next. I hope I’ll have reached a decision by then.”
“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself, Alison,” Brooke advised. “Just enjoy this trip as much as you can. Everything will still be here waiting when you come back.”
I managed a smile as I left, but inside I was thinking,That’s exactly what worries me.
7
Noah
“Why did we wait so long to do this?” I looked over at my two buddies, sitting across from me in a dive bar in St. Pete Beach.
