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Before the existence of Belladonna’s, our soaps and shampoos were experiments we concocted and used for ourselves. Belladonna’s was a hare-brained idea I had half-heartedly joked about one day while working in the greenhouse with Mom. It was my mom who really pushed me to make a go of starting a business.
We don’t just grow herbs for our products; we also produce them for cooking. The vast assortment includes lemon balm, sage, thyme, rosemary, lavender, basil, chamomile, dandelion, stevia, rue, passionflower, and mint. Our greenhouse is host to over fifty different herbs.
“I’m going to bring in the soil from the back of the truck.” I wipe my dirt-covered hands down the front of my jeans as I retrieve the dolly behind the shed.
“I’ll bring the truck around,” Mom tells me.
Outside the greenhouse, I tip my head back to the cloud-covered sky. The forecast calls for more rain later today, so Mom and I wanted to get this new batch of lavender in the soil before the storm moves in. Then we can spend the rest of the day binge-watching anything with Keanu Reeves while eating homemade pizza.
All of my free time has been consumed by everything Luca does, so some mother-daughter time is much needed. Luca understood when I told him I wanted a girls’ day with my mom. He had some stuff to handle with the club anyway and agreed he’d see me tonight.
When I turn the corner with the dolly in tow, Mom already has the truck backed up to the greenhouse. Together, we unload the potting soil.
“You know, if you wanted to go be with Luca, I’d be okay with that,” Mom tells me. “You shouldn’t be spending your free time hanging with your mom when you could be off having fun with your boyfriend.”
I lean against the truck’s tailgate and wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. Mom mimics my stance.
“I know that. But I want to spend time with you today. I miss this.” I gesture to the greenhouse. “I feel like we don’t spend enough time together. I don’t want my relationship with Luca to get in the way of my relationship with you.”
Mom shakes her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Oh, my sweet Sukie.” She steps closer and cups my cheek. “It’s not your responsibility to take care of me.”
My body tenses. “Mom.”
“No, Sukie. I know you think you have to look out for me, but it’s time to look out for yourself. That includes doing what makes you happy.”
“But this makes me happy.” I wave my hand. “What we have here. Spending time with you. That makes me happy.”
“I know it does, sweetheart. Do you think I don’t notice how much you worry about me? That I don’t notice you don’t make any decisions without thinking of me first? Or that Luca stays here every night instead of you spending time at his place because you don’t want to leave me alone?”
I go to protest when Mom continues. “I’m not saying you don’t want to be digging in the dirt with me today or that I don’t want this time with you. What I’m saying is I want you to start living your life for yourself. I want you to stop thinking of me when you make plans.” Mom smiles. “Go spend the night with your boyfriend, Sukie. Go hang out with your friends, Sage and Juniper. Plan weekend getaways. Live.”
“You’ve sacrificed so much for me, Mom,” I choke out.
Mom’s face goes soft. “Sukie. I’m your mother. It’s a mother’s job to sacrifice for her child. All I want in life is for you to be happy. For years I watched you wandering through life alone and lost until now. Being with Luca has brought you out of your shell. I’ve had the pleasure of watching you blossom these past few weeks. You had already come out of your shell a lot under the guidance of your friends, Juniper and Sage, but Luca has brought out a whole new side to you, Sukie. I want you to continue to nourish that.”
I take a shaky breath. “How do I do that without feeling guilty?”
Confused, Mom asks. “What in the world do you have to feel guilty about?”
When I don’t say anything, a knowing look marks her face. “Sukie,” she whispers, then pulls me in for a hug. “My sweet girl. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Later that night, I’m curled up on the couch watching John Wick with a plate of pizza resting on my lap. I’m only half-invested in the movie because I can’t get today’s conversation with my mom out of my head. Mom stood outside the greenhouse and held me in her arms for the longest time. I’d never admitted my feelings of guilt to her before.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing from the kitchen. Mom and I look at each other, and I shrug. I’m still determining who’d be calling me at almost ten o’clock at night. I expect Luca soon, so maybe it’s him telling me he’s either on his way or going to be late. The ringing stops before I can reach my phone but immediately starts again.
Picking it up from the dining room table, I smile when I see Luca’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hey.”
“I’m on my way. Lock the doors. Stay inside until I get there. And don’t open the door for anyone unless it’s someone with the club.”
“What’s going on?” There’s a slight tremble in my voice.
Mom picks up on it and rushes to my side. “Sukie, what is it? Is that Luca?”
I hold my finger up as Luca continues to speak. “I’ll explain when I get there. For now, I want you and your mom to pack a bag. Pack enough shit to get you by for a few days.”
I shake my head. “Wait. Luca. Slow down.”
