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Air stalls in my chest as I get closer to my parents’. I should have told my mom that I was on my way, but I was in too much of a rush. Now, I’m worried about the reception I’ll receive. I’m trembling by the time I park my car on the street outside my childhood home, kill the engine, and take a fortifying breath. Okay. I just need to explain to my mother calmly why she has to stop sending me everything she reads about Kyle and me.
It’s hard to believe that this was my sanctuary once. The place I came to when I needed love. It doesn’t feel like that now. I ring the bell, but there’s no answer. I try the door, and I’m relieved when it swings open.
“Mom, Dad?”
“That you, Gracie? I’m here, in the living room.”
Just hearing my dad’s special name for me brings tears to my eyes. I hurry to the living room and find him reading the papers with his legs propped up on a footstool.
“Hi, Dad.” I bend to kiss his cheek, my chest swelling with emotion. I’m so happy to see him.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, sounding emotional as well. “We’ve been worried about you, seeing you all over those trashy magazines your mother has been reading recently.”
I sit down. “I’ve told Mom so many times those stories are not true.”
He sighs. “I know you, Gracie, and I told your mother that you would not get married without informing us.”
At his words, I burst into tears. It feels so good to have someone who knows me. Dad is not very good with emotions, and I try to get mine under control.
“It was Isla’s wedding to Mark, not mine. I wish Mom would trust me when I tell her that the tabloids rarely give the whole story.”
“She means well, Gracie. She loves you. Be patient with her,” Dad says. He looks at me with such love that I have no choice but to say yes.
“Where is she?”
“In the greenhouse,” he says.
I might as well go find her. “I’ll see you soon.” I kiss his cheek again and head out through the back door. Warmth hits me as soon as I pull the greenhouse flap and enter. Floral scents envelop me, and as I look around at the flowers growing in planters, my anxiety disappears.
I shift my gaze, and that’s when I see her, standing still staring at me. All air leaves my lungs. My smile freezes on my lips when she doesn’t smile back at me.
I close the gap between us until she is right in front of me. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi.”
I swallow hard. I haven’t been this nervous since the time I came home late when I was a teenager. I’m an adult, and I haven’t done anything to be ashamed of. At that, I square my shoulders.
“I was hoping we could talk face to face,” I tell her meeting her gaze.
Her eyes darkened. “I can’t believe you have the audacity to come here to ‘talk.’ I’m ashamed of you, Grace Hughes.”
I clench my jaw so tightly that it hurts. “What are you ashamed about? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You’re doing the very thing you’ve sworn all your life you wouldn’t do. You’re making a spectacle of yourself in front of the whole country. People are laughing at you, Grace. Everyone knows what these celebrities are like. You know how they are.”
“I can’t judge every person who is famous according to how my parents behaved. It’s not fair. Kyle is a good person, Mom. You met him and saw for yourself.”
“He’s an actor,” she says bluntly.
Frustration wells up in me. I don’t know what to say to change her mind about Kyle. “We didn’t get married yesterday.”
“I know. Skyler confirmed it,” she says, mentioning Skyler as if she’s a dear and close friend. “She more or less confirmed that something is going on between them, and yet here you are defending him.”
I’m close to crying, but I’m not going to. “Skyler was not telling the truth, Mom, and I don’t know her, so I can’t tell you why she lied.”
“So you choose to believe Kyle Bryce?” she says his name like it’s dirt.
That’s the last straw for me. I’ve tried my best. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m choosing to do until he tells me himself. I came to tell you to stop sending me links to websites and online magazines. I don’t want to read those lies, Mom. Please stop!”
She narrows her eyes, but before she can say anything, I turn around and storm out of the greenhouse. I go around the house and straight to my car. I feel bad that I haven’t said goodbye to Dad, but I have to leave. I’m too distraught to talk to anyone.
On the way back, I remember that I’d planned to tell my parents about my solo show. Pain rumbles through me at how far apart my mother and I have drifted. The show is in less than two weeks, and I’d love nothing more than for them to be there. But with the way things are, I just don’t know. A tear escapes my eye. If you had told me three months ago that my mom and I would not be on speaking terms, I would have laughed at you. We were so close, and I wouldn’t have believed that anything could come between us.
