Page 119 of The Treasure House

I was speechless.

“You always act like things are fine when they’re not,” Flo told me, and I could see she was upset. “It’s weird how together you act when things go wrong. It’s okay to throw a tantrum sometimes. I mean”—she sighed—“you have a junkie mom who just turned up with her prison-guard boyfriend.” She lowered her voice. “And you know what? I think maybe he ought to be in prison himself.”

I exhaled shakily. “Yeah. Me too.”

“And you just got caught lying to your kid. That’s got to be hard too.”

“I didn’t lie to you.” I sighed. “We’ve been through this. I was… protecting you. You don’t understand.”

“So, tell me.” Flo pushed me gently sideways and plonked herself down next to me on the chopping block.

I didn’t want to do this right now. I just wanted to be alone. But Flo took my gloved hand in her mittened grasp and leaned into me, waiting. I looked skyward, feeling tears prickle.

“Tell me,” she prodded.

All these years, I’d tried to protect her by not telling her. And now Tina had forced my hand.

“It was really hard,” I whispered, feeling my voice break. “It was hard having Tina for a mom. And…” I struggled to speak. “It’s really hard having her back now.”

I felt Flo squeeze my hand.

“It’s like my past is never over.” Oh God, I hated crying in front of Flo. I never wanted her to feel like she had to take care of me, like she had to be the grown-up in the room. I swiped the tears away, feeling the cold leather of my glove against my cheek. “There are all these trapdoors taking me back down to where I started, like in snakes and ladders.”

“You mean snakes, then. Not trapdoors.” She patted me.

I laughed, my breath a white bloom in the air. “I’m just sad. And angry…”

“Fair.”

“And…” I cleared my throat. “Yeah, maybe I’m a little depressed.” I glanced at her. “I never wanted you to worry about me the way I worry about Tina,” I said helplessly. “I hate that you googled ‘depression.’ ” I felt like a failure. All I’d wanted was for her to have a carefree childhood. “I wanted you to feel safe. I wanted to protect you from all the shit in my life.”

“Oh my God, Mom. You can’t control everything. Maybe sometimes it’s okay not to feel safe. Like when you’re not safe. Like when the crazy grandma you didn’t know you had turns up with her crazy boyfriend. Maybe then feeling unsafe is totally appropriate!”

I was crying in earnest now. There were so many big, scary feelings writhing inside me. I felt like they might split me right open. “I don’t want you to feel as scared as I did.” I gasped for breath. “As I do.”

Flo took that in. We sat there in the swirling snow, each wordlessly grappling with our feelings. The sound of my crying seemed loud in the white garden.

“It’s scary when you cry,” Flo admitted in a small voice. “But you know, sometimes it’s scarier when you don’t. Sometimes it’s like you have all these secret feelings and I know you’re feeling them, but I don’t know what they are, and that’s scarier. Because what if they’re about me?”

“What?” That froze me to the core.

“Well…” She shrugged. “Maybe I upset you. Maybe you kind of hate me for ruining your life.”

“Flo!” I was horrified.

“I’m not stupid,” she told me flatly. “I know you didn’t dream about working the phones at the medical center or sleeping in a twin bed next to your kid in a tiny apartment. Or”—she gestured at the white landscape in front of us—“moving to the middle of nowhere because it was the only place you could afford. Because of me.”

“Not because of you. Because of the economy.” I felt a surge of panic. She’d been feeling all this? “Bug, you’re the best thing in my life. The best thing that ever happened to me.”

She snorted. “Sure. Having to drop out of college and raise a kid was the best thing that ever happened to you.” She let go of my hand and held her mitten out to catch snowflakes. “I saw how Dad was living in Seattle. He and Alyssa have a fancy condo overlooking Puget Sound. They’re cashed up. You could live like that too if it wasn’t for me.”

“I don’t want to live like that,” I said, astonished. “And this isn’t the middle of nowhere. This is home. It’s all I ever dreamed of.” Which was true. “But Flo, even if we’d never found the house, it wouldn’t matter. Because I have you. You’re my treasure, bug.”

She seemed unsure.

I pulled her close. “You are. We’re family. And I needed you so much. When you came into my life, it was like someone turned the lights on in a dark room. I don’t regret anything, baby. And I’m sorry if I scared you by keeping Tina secret from you. It’s just that my feelings are so big and so messy—I don’t even know how to explain them to myself, let alone to you.”

“Really?”