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Her mother giggles, soft and sweet, and completely at odds with the sickness ravaging her body. “I never did like him, you know?”
“You didn’t?” Surprised, I picture in my mind the way Rory shoots tall and straightens her spine. “You said he was sweet and going places.”
“I said what you wanted me to say, since my approval matters to you.”
“You lied to me?”
Eleanor sniggers. “I placated you, Aurora. It’s what moms do until they come up with a better plan. Nolan was harmless. Boring as a dead toad,” she adds playfully. “Less endearing than a dog turd on the bottom of my shoe.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
“Nolan was never meant for you, sweetheart. He was a seat filler,” she concludes on a sigh. Which turns to a yawn and reminds all three of us, I think, that she’s not well. “He had manners, and absolutely no spine. Which made him a safe alternative to satisfy your need to explore your daddy issues.”
“Mom!” My smile shoots up at Rory’s indignation. “I don’t have daddy issues!”
“You do, honey. We all do. Some of us have wonderful fathers, in which case, our daddy issue is our search for another man just as wonderful. And some have deadbeat jerkoffs like yours, in which case you’ll probably search for that unconditional love you always deserved but never got from him.”
“Did you get a psych degree in the last couple of days?” Aurora grumbles. “Seriously, Mom? Where is this coming from?”
“My point,” Eleanor interjects, though her tone is playful “I’ve been terrified of that daddy issue rebellion you’re bound to someday experience. It’s gonna be messy and sexy and thrilling.”
“Please don’t say sexy ever again,” Rory groans. “Not in this context. I beg you.”
Eleanor laughs. “My point is that Nolan was never going to be the man to provide you with the excitement. I knew that. You knew that.”
“I did not.”
“But for as long as you were dating him, I knew you were safe and completely non-feral for a little while longer.”
“Feral?” Finally, Rory giggles too. “Mother.”
“All women eventually experience a moment of feral-ness, sweetheart. It’s the best part of us all. And someday, you’re going to meet the right someone who encourages that wild side. But he’ll contain it too. He’ll let you spread your wings and jump off buildings or whatever other crazy hair-brained scheme your mind conjures.”
“Youwantme to jump off a building?”
“I want you to feel comfortable jumping off a building, because the right person is waiting to catch you.”
“Right,” Rory drawls in response. “And is this right person my daddy issue, sexy, passionate guy? Or is he the guy who comes after? Ya know, so I can put all this in my planner and be ready for it.”
“You’re getting an attitude.” Eleanor’s tone hardens. But it’s all a façade. It’s mock rebuff at best. “And if you’re lucky, you’ll find all the right qualities in one man. The wild one,” she sighs, “but he’ll keep you safe. He’ll encourage your feral-ness, but he’ll—”
“Feral-ness isn’t a real word.”
“He’ll let you jump off a building,” she pushes on gently, “and he’ll catch you on the way down. He’ll be the unconditional acceptance and love you deserve, but he’ll call you out on your bullshit too, because anyone who loves someone, knows the one they love can’talwaysbe rightall the time.”
“Disagree. And I’m pretty comfortable in my ability to always be right.” Rory stretches her leg out, so I see more of it around the corner of the wall. Her right leg, not even the broken and repaired one, so when it’s completely straight, she releases a groan of pleasure that arrows straight for my gut. “I’m yet to be wrong about anything at all.”
The older woman snorts. “You were clearly wrong about Nolan, but okay. Keep going off, baby.” She lets out a yawn that is loud and damning. A warning she’s almost done with this conversation. “How’s that paper coming along?”
“Crap. Oh, and just out of curiosity, Mom…”
“Mmm?”
“Have you had any visitors other than me this week?”
I sit tall in my seat and angle in her direction. Twenty-feet still separates us, but I lean anyway and wish I could see her face. I wish she could see mine.
“What do you mean?” Eleanor yawns again and snuggles into her bed. “I get nurses and orderlies and doctors visiting me all day long. Is this about your father?” she grumbles. “Is he saying stuff? Because if he—”
