“Like what?”
“I wanted your mum to be the one to tell you, but it’s difficult for her to express her feelings. You of all people know this. She’s been seeing some specialists.”
My heart pounds in my ears as my pulse races. I cut him off, my voice scratchy. “Is she sick?” The thought scares me. I might not be close with her the way I was with my Nan, but she’s my mother.
He shakes his head. “No, but she has been diagnosed with Adult Autism.”
I blink a few times, not sure if I believe him or not. “You’re serious?” He nods. “When?”
“About six months ago.”
I pull my hands free. “Why hasn’t she told me?”
“She’s still dealing with it, but it explains a lot. I’ve always supported her, and I realise now that might not have always been the best thing for you, and I apologise.” My jaw drops. “She hides her feelings well, but she does love you.”
I’m still not sure how to process what he’s saying. “I’m familiar with autism and aware there’s different spectrums. She’s always been a certain way, but I would never have guessed.”
He nods, then his face falls. “I know. She’s always been so set in her ways, with routines amongst other things, and I thought it was just her being obsessive-compulsive, but it turns out there is more to it than that.”
I shake my head, feeling an overwhelming sadness for her. “And so now what?”
“She’s attending a group, which is helping. But I just wanted you to know so you could maybe understand things a little better.”
I plop myself down on the grass, and my dad sits beside me.
“She loves you. I know she doesn’t show it conventionally, but give her a chance okay?” I nod and turn my face towards him. “I just always thought you were both disappointed in me,” I reply. My throat constricts as I try to swallow my emotion.
“Not at all. We get annoyed you’re so dead set on doing everything on your own. We didn’t like the idea of you splitting up with Marcus when you were pregnant. We know how hard it is—raising a child. You’re so independent. You’ve always been that way. We are proud of you and the mother you are to Molly. And we both love you very much.”
I bite my lip and sniff back my tears. I never realised how much I needed to hear that affirmation from him until now. “Thank you. I love you, too.”
He stands and offers me his hands before pulling me to my feet and into a hug. “I just wish this is something we could have discovered sooner,” he says.
“Me, too,” I reply. It would have helped to explain a lot.
Chapter Forty-Six
RACHEL
I spent the week researching on the internet after work. I wanted to understand my mum’s diagnosis a little better before visiting. I learned so much, things that should be more widely known. Growing up, I genuinely thought she didn’t love me, that I wasn’t enough. And she was so focused on my father, she lost sight of herself at times. I hated her for these things…so many of which I now know she couldn’t help.
I take a deep breath, knock, then wait for her to answer the door. I have a key, but I’ve never felt comfortable using it, not even when Molly and I come for dinner.
“Hello,” she says in greeting.
“Hi.”
“Well come in, don’t just stand there.” It’s hard for me not to get defensive.
I follow her through to the living room, where she already has afternoon tea set out meticulously. She takes her usual seat; I follow suit. “Where’s Molly-Mae?” she asks, pouring me a cup of tea.
“She’s with Marcus.”
Mum hands me the cup and saucer, the delicate china rattling as I take it from her. I have the urge to set it down for fear of spilling it. She clucks her tongue, barely loud enough to notice, and I want to roll my eyes. “And you’re sure the two of you can’t make it work?” she asks, stirring her tea.
“No, we weren’t right for each other.” I take a sip of my tea, pausing when I see what’s hung above the fireplace. She turns her head to see what has my attention. “You were the one who won the bid?”
“Yes. I wanted it, and your father likes it, too.”
