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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ella paused for a moment before ringing the doorbell of her childhood home. She had to take a breath and center herself. She had to plaster a realistic smile on her face before her mother opened the door and saw her there.
She gripped the handle of the canvas grocery bag tighter, filled her lungs, and did her best to empty her mind. She did this just before she rang the doorbell at her mother’s house every week when she brought groceries. She felt like it was the least she could do.
After all, since her mom couldn’t leave the house, Ella was one of the only people she interacted with on a regular basis. Of course, her mom had her poker buddies, and her book club, and her “ladies who (come over to) lunch” set. But that wasn’t the same as having one consistent person that you saw all the time.
So these visits weren’t just because, since the digital gig economy hadn’t reached the small town of Valentine Bay yet, she was the only version of Instacart her mother had available to her—that she was, in essence, her mother’s TaskRabbit. They were also a social life line for her mom, as well as a chance for Ella to check up on her and make sure that she was doing okay.
She looked up, a bright grin pasted on her lips, and then pressed the bell. The deep, sonorous chime sounded throughout the house beyond the door, followed two seconds later by her mother’s cheerful voice calling out, “Be right there!”
Her mom pulled the door open, and her face lit up at the sight of Ella. “Hello, darling! Come in!”
Ella stepped over the threshold and into her mom’s waiting arms. She took a deep breath and sunk into the hug. A contented sigh escaped her. She’d always loved the way her mom hugged. There was nothing perfunctory about it. Ever. Every time she wrapped her arms around Ella, she did it with her whole heart.
Her mom stepped back and ushered Ella into the kitchen and got her settled into one of the kitchen table chairs. She put water into her stovetop kettle and turned on the heat, bustled around the kitchen unpacking the groceries. “Oh, honey, it’s so good to see you. You know how much I appreciate you doing this for me. How much do I owe you?”
Ella smiled. This was a little dance they did every week. “Stop, Mom. You know it’s on me. I’m glad to do it.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
After her mom had tucked the last box of cereal into the cabinet and the last piece of produce into the fridge, she poured the now-boiling water into two teacups and carried the steaming mugs over to the kitchen table.
“Okay, Mom, out with it. You carried that tea over to the table like you were on a death march. You clearly have something in mind that you want to bring up to me, and you’re not looking forward to it. So just rip off the Band-Aid.”
“Oh, that’s nonsense,” Ella’s mother replied, waving her hand in front of her face as if to swat away the silly idea before continuing, her voice overly casual, “So, how is Donovan?”
Ella snorted. “Real subtle, there, Mom.”
They shared a laugh and then her mother placed her hand over Ella’s. “I just worry about you, hon.”
Ella took a deep breath. “I appreciate that. I worry about me, too, sometimes. But it is what it is.”
Tears shone in her mother’s eyes. “I want so badly to protect you, Ell Bell. If I could just leave this house…I’ve tried so hard…”
Ella sprang up from her chair and rounded the kitchen table. She wrapped her mother up in her arms, trying to live up to the example she’d been shown her whole life and putting her whole heart into the hug.
She pulled back and met her mother’s gaze straight on. She spoke emphatically because it was really important to her to get the message across. “Listen, Mom. Really listen. You’ve been an incredible mother. Honestly. You’ve instilled so many amazing values in me, things that have shaped me as a person, and an artist.
“I know how hard you work to someday leave the house again. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. You’ve taught me how to face adversity with dignity and tenacity, because that’s all I’ve ever seen you do.”
Ella’s mother pulled back and brushed Ella’s hair back from her forehead. “Oh, sweet girl. Thank you for saying that.”
Ella returned to her seat. “I’m only saying it because it’s the truth. And what’s also true is that life is about risks. Life is a risk. Any path can lead to fulfillment, or it can lead to heartache. And I’m tired of being scared, of being too timid to pick a path at all. I’m only just now learning that refusing to choose is a choice in itself. God, that’s a lesson that’s long overdue, but I’m learning it.”
“I’m so proud of you, baby girl. And I hear what you’re saying, I do. But I do still need to warn you. I’m your mom, that’s my job.”
Ella smiled. “Thanks.”
“Have you talked at all about how long he’s here for?”
“I don’t think he even knows that,” Ella hedged.
“Do you know what his intentions are?”
“Hmm. Again, I don’t think that he even knows that.”
Ella’s stomach tied itself up in knots a little bit. Wow, this wasn’t a good sign. If she couldn’t even stand a few questions from her mother about things that might happen in the future, how was she going to handle it if and when that future came to pass?
Ella sipped her tea, letting the hot liquid fill her stomach and distract her from the thoughts that were now racing through her mind, and the sense of dread that was quickly taking hold.
Of course she’d thought about Donovan leaving. From the moment he’d shown up, it had been low-key in the back of her mind the entire time. Then, the night of the pool, it had come into clearer focus. And now it was forced to the forefront. And, oh holy shit, she didn’t like how it felt. She didn’t like it at all.
She had to face one simple fact. No sugarcoating, no platitudes. No bullshit. The plain truth was that she was going to be utterly devastated if she lost him again. And for all the nice-sounding philosophy she’d just spouted off, the ugly reality was that she didn’t know how she was going to handle that if it happened. She had no freaking idea.
