by Liz Talley
“Hi, Mom.”
She could tell her mother wanted to ask her a barrage of questions, but for a moment, she merely took her in. Ellery knew what she found was likely a surprise. Ellery’s hair was no longer flat ironed within an inch of its life. Instead, she’d opted to let it curl naturally, a softer look. Her makeup was minimal—her Seattle look, as she liked to call it. She wore a slouchy sweater because March was still cold in Louisiana, perhaps the coldest month because spring tended to hold on to the chill as if it knew the torrid heat of June would soon render it a distant memory.
“You look good, honey,” Daphne said, something warm in her eyes. “Gained some needed weight.”
“It’s cold in Seattle . . . and rainy. I’ve been eating more. And I’ve gone curly,” she said, twining her hair about her finger. “I can no longer afford a blowout every week. Or maybe I never could.”
Her mother’s mouth twitched. “Come on in. I would offer you tea, but the kettle is packed.”
Ellery stepped inside the warmth. The mudroom was empty and smelled of new paint, and the new kitchen was gorgeous but also bare. It didn’t look like home. Tears prickled in her throat, but she swallowed them down. She set the pan on the counter right as her mother wrapped her in a hard embrace. Ellery didn’t fight it, because she needed her mother’s arms, needed to smell the Chanel N°5 she wore on special occasions, needed to breathe in home. She wrapped her arms around her mother’s back and laid her head against her shoulder. Her mother’s hands rubbed her back, and Ellery closed her eyes and pretended there was nothing hard between them.
Daphne eventually dropped her hands and pushed away, wiping tears from her eyes. “You came home.”
Ellery nodded. “But only for a visit. I needed to see the house before you handed the keys over, and I wanted to be here for the luncheon. Tippy Lou called me and told me about the award.”
Daphne set her hands on the marbled island. “She’s a meddling old woman.”
“Yeah, and always has been,” Ellery said, joining her mother at the island. Daphne glanced over at her. It was obvious her mother had been looking for her composure but hadn’t found it. Tears streamed down her face.
“Sorry,” she said, wiping her cheeks. “What’s this?”
Ellery pulled the aluminum foil off the top of the cake pan, revealing a chocolate sheet cake with sprinkles. “I missed your birthday.”
Daphne’s gaze met hers. “You baked me a cake? A chocolate Texas sheet cake?”
Ellery looked down at the cake covered with sprinkles. “It’s the first time I’ve ever baked something. I had to do it at Tippy Lou’s house. I’m not sure the almond milk worked so well.”
Her mother stared back at the cake. “No one has baked me a cake since my mama died.”
Ellery felt the unshed tears perched in the back of her throat move to choke her. “Well, I did. I should have done it long ago.”
Her mother grabbed a napkin from the lazy Susan and noisily blew into it. After a few seconds, she looked up. “I missed you, honey.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Ellery said, her sigh slowly leaking. “I’m sorry about the way I left. It wasn’t cool of me. At the time I was angry at you, and maybe I wanted you to be as angry at me, too.”
“I was,” her mother said.
“Are you still?” Ellery asked.
Her mother shook her head. “Not really, but I’m confused by a lot of what you did. I have had time to think about what happened between us. We both hold fault. Our actions caused our own problems, I think. Or at least some of them did. My mama always said that you reap what you sow. Or maybe that’s the Bible, but either way, I came to terms with the fact that my decisions pushed you from me.”
“You haven’t tried to contact me,” Ellery said, twining her fingers together. “I didn’t expect that. I thought you’d fly out and drag me back.”
Daphne issued a snort. “Well, when I found out you moved, I drove like a bat out of hell to Texas to try and stop you.”
“I know. Gage talks to Evan, and Evan told him that you scared some guests. There was a complaint about people driving too fast in the parking lot and a recommendation of speed bumps.” Ellery smiled through her tears at the thought of her mother nearly mowing down people on her mission to stop her from leaving.
“He never told me that,” Daphne said, looking concerned.
“So you’re dating Evan?” Ellery asked.
“You’re dating Gage?”
Ellery laughed. “If you call living with someone dating, yeah. I mean, we’re figuring stuff out. He’s an ass sometimes, don’t get me wrong, but he calls me out on my bullshit. At the same time, he gives me validation in a way I never had. He’s teaching me a lot about life and how sweet and hard it can be. Looking back on my relationship with Josh, I can see so much wrong.”
Daphne tilted her head. “You didn’t love Josh?”
“I loved the idea of Josh, and bless his heart, he really did everything he could to play the part. It’s like all those prom-posals and crazy romantic gestures every girl thinks she wants—well, that was what Josh was. He was good at doing what he thought was love. He was bad at actually loving me. Of course, maybe he wasn’t capable. But no, I wasn’t in love with Josh. I was in love with the idea of love.”
“Easy to do.”
“Yeah, I wanted to believe I was doing the right thing. Like there was a perfect guy, a perfect career, and a perfect life. When that wasn’t enough, I made some bad decisions. Like Evan.”
“Did you think you were in love with him?” That question from her mother was loaded with so much—worry, fear, understanding.
“Nah. He seemed to understand so much about me. He was funny, flirty, and wise. After the first time he wrote—a really amusing email, I have to say—I searched for him on the internet. I don’t have to tell you he’s easy on the eyes, but the pictures on the website showed him with Poppy, and he looked so . . . capable and loving. That sounds weird, but he looked like a guy who would love a person for who they were. It’s really stupid, but the more I corresponded with him, the more I couldn’t stop. The first time I saw him, I knew I had built a sandcastle in the air, but I didn’t stop until he knew what I was doing. Then I was mad at him, too.” She gave a hard laugh. “I was messed up, Mom.”
Daphne slid a hand over to hers, untangling her fingers. “I made it worse for you, though.”
“I made it bad for myself. I own that.”
“But why did you run away? You didn’t have to leave.”
Ellery turned her hand over and threaded her fingers through her mother’s. “I’m choosing to think of it as not running away but running toward something I needed. I had a lot of self-truths I needed to face. Parts of me were unlikable, vain, manipulative, and too afraid to actually do the things I said I would. I allowed you and Daddy to fix things for me. Relied on Josh to fill the empty space when my ego got crushed. Made excuses for myself and blamed everyone else when things didn’t go my way.”
“You weren’t that bad. You were trying to deal with disappointment.”
Ellery knew what her mother was doing. It’s what all mothers did. They loved too hard to really see their sons or daughters as anything beyond wonderful. “I thought I was making lemonade from the lemons life handed me.”
Her mother nodded. “Exactly.”
“Like you did when you got pregnant at sixteen. Like you continued to do for years. You were married to the man you had to marry, committed to a job you had to take, saddled with a child you were too young to have. You made lemonade.”
“It wasn’t bad lemonade. My life was good, Ellery. Don’t doubt that.”
“But you didn’t want it back, and I think that knowledge sat inside me and soured. Dad told me he tried to reconcile with you, but you told him no. I’m not going to lie, that made me furious. A selfish part of me wanted you to sacrifice yourself so I could have my old life back.”
“Ellery, I couldn’t go back. Your fa
ther wanted someone to make his life easy again. By that time, I didn’t feel for him what I once did. I loved your father. I did. He’s not a bad guy, but you’re right, I never dated anyone else, and I did have to make the best of the situation Rex and I got ourselves into. I don’t regret my marriage, but that didn’t mean I wanted to give up the part of me I had discovered just to make it easy for your dad . . . or for you.”
Ellery smiled. “You took those lemons he tried to give you again, and you threw them back.”
“Well . . . maybe.”
“I think that’s what part of my anger was about. My mother had said to hell with lemonade and made her own damned drink. And I had tucked my tail and come back home, accepting my failure. I didn’t throw lemons back, Mom. I took them and proceeded to turn them into muddly mush.”
“Don’t paint me into something I’m not. I’m no trailblazer. I stumbled into the whole Dixie Doodle author career, just like you said.”
Ellery smiled. “No, you prepared. You did the work. I remember you staying up late drawing and creating. I knew the book was good. I didn’t tell you that, but I knew. And when opportunity knocked, you didn’t hide. You jumped in and owned it, Mom. Yeah, maybe you got lucky, but it wasn’t luck that made you Dee Dee O’Hara. That was you. So I think I wasn’t so much jealous of you and your career as I was upset with myself that I didn’t have the grit I needed to do what you had done.”
Daphne squeezed her hand. “It’s damned gritty to start over again. You did that.”
“I had a good role model.” Ellery looked at her mother. “You showed me I could start over. That I had to put in the work, and if luck came my way, I had to be prepared. I couldn’t rely on my wit and charm, but I had to have the chops. Let me show you something.”
Ellery pulled out her phone and clicked on a button.
She handed her phone to her mother. Daphne’s brow gathered, her eyes narrowing as she studied what was on the screen.
“Ellery and Elmo Designs.” She paused. “Elmo?”
“He’s my cat.”
“You have a cat?”
Ellery laughed. “He’s the ugliest thing you’ve ever laid eyes on, but I love him. I liked his name, and it was sort of a joke between me and Gage. I like the assonance of the name, and I used whiskers in my branding. It’s sort of hokey, but I like it. It’s kind of Kate Spade–ish whimsical, but my clothes aren’t nearly as structured. Of course, I’m making custom pieces through an online vendor, but it’s keeping me occupied when I’m not working.”
“You have a job?”
“In a vintage-clothing store. I really like it. It’s inspiring me. Oh, and I work in a coffee shop on the weekend. Sold the Lexus Dad bought me and paid my credit cards off. Gage and I have a one bedroom that’s about the size of a postage stamp. He got the job he wanted, and it pays well, but he refuses to move until he’s saved enough for a sizable down payment. He’s way too reasonable for me,” Ellery said, but she said it with a smile. Because Gage made her feel that way—irritated, turned on, treasured, independent. In other words, he gave her exactly what she’d needed. Not to mention she’d learned very quickly what good sex was. Whether they would last, she wasn’t sure, but that was okay. She was done with planning her life to a T.
Her mother flipped through the designs. “You made all these in a few months’ time? They’re really good, sweetheart. Creative, bold, but wearable.”
“I had time on my hands while I searched for a job. Gage encouraged me to do something productive, and he’s so good at computer stuff. He built the site, and I bought a used sewing machine with the money I had from selling my furniture.”
Daphne’s eyes shone with pride. “I’m so proud of you.”
“What’s really cool is that I’m proud of me. I took a chance, and I don’t know what is around the corner, but I’m doing it on my terms. The way you showed me.”
Daphne set the phone on the countertop. “You amaze me.”
“I’m happy, Mama. I’m really, truly happy . . . well, most days. I sling coffee and work hard, but I love it.” Ellery pocketed her phone. “I think you probably need to go, right? The luncheon starts at eleven thirty. It’s nearly eleven now.”
“Are you coming? I mean, you said—”
“Can I be your plus-one?”
Her mother squeezed her so tight. “You’re always my plus-one, and I don’t care if I’m getting an award from the president of the United States, you’re ten times more important.”
“The award is from the president?” Ellery asked, hugging her mom back.
“No, the Shreveport Ladies Auxiliary Guild for Woman of the Year,” her mother said, stepping back.
“Whew,” Ellery said, pretending to wipe her brow. “I have a dress in the car, but it’s not presidential. I’ll be quick.”
Daphne grabbed her hand before she escaped out the back door. “So we’re good?”
“I brought you a cake, didn’t I? I had to bake two of them. I burned the first one.”
“I love you, Elle. You’re the best thing that I ever did.”
Ellery felt all the twisted pieces left inside her turn and click into place. “I love you, too, Mom, and thank you for doing so much for me. I see you now. You’re not just my mom. You’re you.”
With that, she turned and slipped out the door, tipping her head up to the sky, breathing deeply of the early spring morning air. For the first time in a long time, she felt totally at peace. Her life in Seattle had been hard to adjust to at first. She’d cried when she sold her car, but when she’d paid off her secret credit card, cut up the card, and mailed her father a payment on the ones he had been paying, she’d felt a wave of pride in herself. Gage had taught her how to budget and how life could be good without carrying a Birkin bag and getting her nails done every two weeks. He even made a sexy game out of pedicures. And she’d worked hard, so hard that if she’d had those fingernails done, it would have been a waste. Busing tables ain’t so glamorous.
But she’d done it, and she loved the inspiration she got at the vintage-clothing store. Design school was one thing, but repurposing vintage haute couture and being inspired by 1970s Halston, 1980s Bob Mackie, and the Coco Chanel sailor dress she found a few weeks back had given her real-world experience with iconic clothing. The owner of the store, after seeing her window display, had given her free rein in organizing and showcasing classic finds. Ellery often wore the dresses she discovered and sold them right off her body.
She’d busted her world wide open, but the thought of things left unsaid between her and her mother had left a hole. For a while, she’d held on to her anger. She figured her mother owed her the apology. After all, she’d slept with Clay. Yet, as the days wore on, the harder Ellery had worked, the more sacrifices she made to pay her bills and help Gage with rent and groceries, the more she realized how she’d behaved and what she’d expected from her mother.
Then she’d seen a funny dish towel about lemons and making lemon-drop martinis and started thinking about her whole philosophy when she’d gone home to Shreveport after college. Which led her to thinking about her mother. Perhaps it was a sort of epiphany when she realized that she was modeling her mother. She’d taken a chance, not settled, and rolled up her sleeves.
For the first time in her life, she’d realized her mother wasn’t just her mother.
She was Daphne. She was Dee Dee O’Hara. She was a person.
When Tippy Lou had called her to tell her the house had sold, and then mentioned that her mother was getting an award, Ellery had sold her Lanvin bag and bought a plane ticket.
It was time to mend what was between them . . . and she had.
When she reached her rental sitting in the drive, she slid into the driver’s seat and pulled out her phone. Scrolling back several months, she found the email she’d been looking for—the last email Evan had sent her thanking her for confirming her mother’s appearance at Poppy’s school. She hit REPLY and changed the subject to A Final Message.<
br />
Dear Evan,
I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me after so much time, but I need to apologize to you a second time. I once told you that I stood by the words that my mother was a whore. I was wrong. Very wrong. My mother is a person. Both she and I have made some mistakes, but there is one thing that was no mistake—you. If I had not corresponded with you, I never would have met Gage, and my mother never would have met you. My mistake turned into something good for both of us. You once told me your philosophy—that when you grow your grapes, there are things you can’t control, like the weather or temperatures, but in the end, you still have something worthwhile. But you forgot the most important element. Someone has to plant the vines, someone has to pick the fruit, and someone has to make the grapes into wine. There are things we can’t control, but if we do nothing, we get nothing. Thank you for that lesson.
Ellery
PS Be good to my mom. Be deserving. She’s worth the effort.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my editor, Alison Dasho, who has such faith in me and my ability to write books that matter. To Michelle Grajkowski, my fabulous agent, whose conversations about raising young adults led to this book and whose guidance is invaluable. Thank you both for believing in me and this book.
I would also like to thank Selina McLemore for her editorial insight; Phylis Caskey, Jennifer Moorhead, and Ashley Elston for the long walks, the support, and helping me reach my goals; and the Fiction From the Heart Ladies, who inspire me every day to be a better person and writer. I would also like to mention my Tuesday “Lunch Bunch,” who helped me come to terms with Ellery and the authentic twenty-three-year-old she needed to be. And, finally, the wonderful Robyn Carr, who always sets me straight and gives me the advice I need, not the advice I want. I am blessed by these women in my life.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2017 Courtney Hartness
A finalist for both the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious Golden Heart and RITA Awards, Liz Talley has found a home writing heartwarming contemporary romance. Her stories are set in the South, where the tea is sweet, the summers are hot, and the porches are welcoming. She lives in North Louisiana with her childhood sweetheart, two handsome children, three dogs, and a naughty kitty. Readers can visit Liz at www.liztalleybooks.com.
