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But people made sacrifices for those they loved. No one knew that better than her.
She pushed aside thoughts of herself, and not only because dwelling on the past was her least favorite thing. This wasn’t about her.
“I was thinking about you.” Go on, Kathleen. Say something deep and helpful. Acknowledge feelings.
“It’s been a pretty stressful time.” Liza turned her attention back to the road. “Hopefully the holidays will calm everything down and I’ll be able to relax. I can’t wait.”
“You can’t live your life waiting for two weeks a year when you enjoy yourself, Liza. What about the other fifty weeks?”
“I don’t only enjoy myself two weeks a year.” Liza frowned. “It’s true that day-to-day it feels a bit exhausting, but this is life, isn’t it? And it’s the same for everyone. Everyone has something.”
But not everyone handled their “something” with the same diligence as her daughter.
“You need to find that summer feeling for the rest of the year, not only for two weeks in August.” Kathleen licked her lips. “I’m worried about you.”
“You’re worried about me?” Liza laughed. “You’re the one driving across America with someone you don’t know.”
But that suited her. She had no desire to know Martha. Superficial relationships had always been her preference.
“I’m worried that you never put up boundaries.”
Liza adjusted her grip on the wheel. “We’re different that way, you know we are.”
“Yes, but you allow people to feed on your good nature until all that’s left is—is dust. Have you painted lately?”
“Caitlin’s bedroom.”
“You know that wasn’t what I meant.”
“No, I haven’t painted.” Liza sounded tired. “No time.”
“You should make time.”
“I haven’t felt like it. There’s no pleasure in trying to create something in a snatched moment when everyone is trying to take a piece of you. It becomes another chore. And I’d feel guilty taking that time for mysel
f when there is so much to be done.”
This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
Kathleen trod cautiously, like an explorer venturing into a new land. “You’re the glue that holds the family together, but do you know what happens to glue over time? It dries out. And then everything falls apart.”
“You think I’m drying out?” Liza’s response was light, but her hands tightened on the wheel. “I need to change my moisturizer.”
“Do you use moisturizer?”
“When I remember.” Liza drew breath. “You think I’m weak. You think I let people walk all over me.”
“No. I think you’re a giver. You’re the kindest person I know, and generous, but for some reason you forget to extend that kindness to yourself. Which part of your life is for you and no one else? Liza!” She squeaked a warning as her daughter almost drove into the car in front.
Liza slammed on the brakes. “Sorry. I—Did you say you think I’m kind and generous?”
“Yes.” Why would a few words of praise elicit such a dramatic response? And were those tears in Liza’s eyes? No, no!
Her daughter blinked rapidly. “You think I’m boring. And careful.”
“Not boring. Careful, maybe. Caring, definitely.” Maybe this conversation had been a mistake. She wasn’t in a position to help or influence even if she wanted to, and generally she was of the opinion that a person had the complete right to mess up their own lives free of interference. But this was her daughter. “You care deeply about those close to you and you always put their happiness first. You were the same as a child.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
