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I look down at the cookies and remove the ones that have expanded and cracked. I set them aside. I place the others on a cooling rack, so I can add the icing Jena colored red, white, and blue.
“What are you doing with those?” Mom asks.
“Throwing them out. They’re messed up,” I answer.
She reaches into the cupboard and hands me a sugar shaker. “Here, just sprinkle them with powdered sugar. They don’t have to be perfect. The beauty of the cookie is in the imperfections,” she says.
“It is?” I ask.
“Oh, yes, look at them. They taste the same as the others. They came from the same batch of dough. So they have cracks. Big deal. It gives them character and they’ll still be just as delicious.”
I look up at her. “Are you trying to tell me something, Mom?”
“I’m telling you, you don’t waste good cookies because they don’t meet your idea or expectation of perfection. You throw some sparkle on them and take them to enjoy the party.”
All righty then.
She and Sara-Beth start adding food coloring to the buttercream icing they prepared and scoop it into bags.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, and she looks up at me. “I never realized that spending time with you could be so rad.”
She smiles. “I knew spending time with you could be.”
I pull up a music app on my phone and connect it to the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen.
The six of us dance around the island, singing at the tops of our lungs, decorating our confections, and enjoying our time together.
By the time we are done, sweaty, and covered in flour and sugar, we have six dozen decorated cookies; eighteen tins of blondies with red-and-blue-coated candies; twelve dozen cupcakes with red, white, and blue sprinkles or sanding sugar; and of course, a large batch of Mom’s special medicinal toffee.
I shoo the girls off to go home and leave the cleanup to Mom and me.
“It was a fun night,” Jena says as she hugs me good-bye.
Erin and Ansley agree.
It truly was.
Once they are all on their way, Mom and I roll up our sleeves to clean the kitchen.
“That was a blast. I’m so glad you and the girls came to pitch in,” Mom says.
I help her pile the dirty pans and glasses beside the sink and wet a cloth to wash down the island.
“We had a good time and they’re great. It’s like we’ve been friends forever.”
“That’s the way it is with true friends. It’s like your souls connect from the beginning,” she muses.
“They want me to stay here in Balsam Ridge. Can you believe that?”
“The better question is, can you see yourself living here again?”
“Don’t talk in circles, Mom. I’m seeking your advice here,” I say.
“You’re a smart, beautiful, and capable woman. I’m not going to tell you what to do.”
She fills the sink with warm water and starts to soak the dishes. I stop beside her.
“Since when?” I ask.
“Today.”
“Come on, Mom. I know you have an opinion. What do you think I should do?”
She drops a stack of plates into the sink with a loud clank, picks up a sponge and starts to scrub them. “I think you should start concentrating on what you think instead of what everyone else does,” she says.
“You’ve always wanted to control my life and my decisions, but now that I’m actually seeking a little motherly guidance, all of a sudden, you think I should make up my own mind?” I ask for clarification.
“I’ve never wanted to control your life, Taeli.”
“Oh, come on, Mom. That’s all you’ve ever done. When I was in high school, you were the only mother who went to every single away game and made me stay in the same room as you.”
“After I caught you sneaking out of your bedroom window. It was a consequence of your actions, Taeli. I didn’t want you to get into any trouble. It was my job to protect you,” she insists.
“More like embarrass me,” I grumble.
“Oh, please. You’re just projecting. You aren’t still angry about that stuff. It was years ago,” she chides.
“I am still angry. I wish we could have had a better relationship, but you never got to know me in a way that we could be friends. All you ever did was ground me or scold me.”
“Because I was your mother, not your girlfriend. A mother’s love is many things. It’s gentle, it’s kind, it’s stern, it’s teaching and rearing, and yes, sometimes, it’s punishing. But it is unconditional. The love that breastfed you, rocked you to sleep when you had colic, made you chocolate chip pancakes every Saturday morning, and kissed your skinned knees is the same love that whipped your behind when you needed it. Fierce, crazy, and at times, angry love. That’s what I always gave to you. Always.”
“Always? You didn’t talk to me for almost two years when I followed Damon to Northwestern. The only communication I got from you was through Daddy, and I’m sure ninety percent of that was him pretending you cared.”
She tosses the sponge she was using into the sink and turns to face me. “Pretending I cared? Taeli, I’m your mother. All I’m capable of doing is caring. Yes, I was upset when you left school and wasted your scholarship. I thought you were throwing away your future,” she explains.
“Don’t you think I know that now, Mom? Walking away from the full-ride education was the worst decision of my life, but I was young and blinded by love.”
“Exactly. You were blinded, and I was trying to be the guiding light for you,” she explains.
“I should have listened to you. There, I said it. Go ahead and say I told you so. You’ve been waiting so long.”
She shakes her head. “No, kiddo, I wasn’t. God had a different plan for you. I see that now. I was never meant to write your book. I was just the narrator for the first few chapters. I look at you today, and I see a lovely, strong, resilient woman, who I’m proud to call my daughter. A good mother. A better mother than I ever was. If you had listened to me, we wouldn’t have Caleb. What would we do without him?” she says.
I sigh.
“Now, I’m ruining his life too.”
