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“No,” Mom said quietly. “I’m not. And falling in love with your father wasn’t what saved me.”
Hayley’s head shot up. Carolyn Burke had never said these words—not to her daughter, at least.
“You know I met your father in a bar,” she continued. “You know he was there with his friends; you know we went to different schools. But you don’t know that he came to my table because I was crying into a margarita pitcher that I had emptied all by myself.”
Hayley stared. “Mom, what—”
“I honestly don’t remember all the courses I took that year,” she said. “All of the different subjects—flailing around, trying to find what I wanted to do, and somehow in the midst of that mess a very nice young man had become very interested in me. He’d asked me to marry him that night, but I couldn’t give him an answer because I was also seeing someone else at the same time. And then I met your dad.”
Mom was holding her gaze, articulating each word clearly. At first Hayley was amazed at how calm she was, until she realized Mom was forcing out one word at a time.
“You know your father could have a conversation with a lamppost,” she said. “He came over and asked me what was wrong, and I told him. I told him about the classes and the proposal. I told him how utterly lost I was, because for some reason it was easy to talk to this complete stranger.”
Hayley smiled. “Only Dad.”
“Only Dad.” Mom smiled too. “He listened, like he always does, and then he said, ‘What makes you happy?’ I tried to dive back into it all and explain what I liked and didn’t like, what I couldn’t decide, but he held up his hand. He said, ‘In life, what makes you happy?’”
Hayley held her breath. “What did you say?”
“Stories.” There was a gleam in Mom’s eyes. “That was all I could think of. I told him I liked to get lost in stories. Can you guess what he said?”
Hayley thought about it, then tried her best imitation of his voice. “Let’s make that happen.”
Mom nodded. “Exactly. So we made a plan. I started my English lit major, which I’d dipped my toes in before, except this time when things got boring or difficult, I’d call your dad. He’d remind me why I was working so hard, and he celebrated with me when I knew I wanted to teach. But we weren’t dating then, Hayley. He was just a really good friend who helped me understand what I wanted and how to get it.”
“Mom.” Hayley didn’t know what to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
After a moment, Mom said, “I didn’t think you’d listen to my advice if you knew all the mistakes I made. I thought it was enough to tell you what I’d learned. Otherwise you might decide you wanted to make all my mistakes for yourself.”
“You thought I’d havelessrespect for you because of the mistakes you made? Mom, look at who you became.” Hayley realized what she was saying, then hung her head. “God. I am totally your daughter.”
“You are,” Mom said. “You are creative, and you’re passionate. But you get your resolve from your dad. That’s a real strength.”
Hayley snorted. “Why? So I can keep making the same mistakes? You moved forward. You got stronger.”
“Hayley Michelle,” her mother said gently, “you have never done a bad job at anything you’ve cared about. Ever.”
Hayley sat back, shocked.
“It reminds me of Dad’s projects,” Mom said. “How you used to laugh?”
Hayley grinned and imitated her father’s bellowing, “Oh, for Pete’s sake!”
Mom nodded. “You’d run in, and he’d be holding the wrong nail or the wrong board, and he’d explain to you why he needed the right one, and you’d think it was the funniest thing.”
“He acted like the world had tricked him!” Hayley laughed. “Like he’d brought the right thing home, and it’d magically changed.”
“So you’d go to the store with him and get the right part.”
“And we’d always go for ice cream after.”
Mom paused. “Your dad is the best craftsman I know,” she said, “but if he tries to put the wrong nail into the wrong board, he’s going to fail every time.”
The words hurt, but Hayley knew she had to pay attention now. She had to really listen to her mother if she was ever going to change.
“That’s a pretty good analogy,” she said gamely. “Am I the board or the nail?”
“Hayley,” Mom said, “when your dad came up with the wrong nail or board, it wasn’t because they were broken. Therewasn’t anything wrong with the nail or the board. They were just made to fit somewhere else.”
