What a Girl Wants

by Selena Robins

  “I’m actually serious. This is an issue that needs to be discussed. You could research men who donate. How many times did they donate? Do they ever think about the kids they created? Did they tell their wives and families they donated? How do people who know how they were conceived handle questions about their fathers? How do they handle the stigma?”

  “Sounds like you have a book in you.” He regarded her with a warm intensity. “Ti amo.”

  Struggling not to smile like a fool, she rolled her eyes. “Can you say I love you in Pig Latin too?” She feigned an irritated frown. “I amo you too. But I’m still going to kick your ass.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “You’ll be at one-hundred percent in no time.” He kissed her and stood. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Going to visit with my family—”

  “Take me with you.” She clung to his wrist. “I’ll dress up as Maryanne and bake a pie—”

  “Mmmm, nice visual. Deal. When you’re a hundred percent.” She pouted and he shook his head. “That still doesn’t work.” He kissed her. “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”

  “That’s not the best advice you’ve ever given me.”

  Felicia came back and sat across from Maddie. “Thank you for helping me with this, Alex.”

  He nodded. “Skip the cherry with your sundae, sweetheart.” He winked. “Enjoy lunch.”

  Alex left. Maddie mentally counted down the minutes. Felicia scanned the menu.

  “What would you recommend?” Felicia asked.

  “Psychotherapy?”

  They ordered lunch and ate in silence. Felicia picked at her grilled mahi-mahi and steamed vegetables, Maddie nibbled at her hamburger. When she was done, she pushed her half-eaten burger away and took in the beauty of the azure water, rippling with foamy waves. The sand on the beach was as white as dazzling snow in sunshine. The trade winds rustled the palm fronds and the scent of sea air was a welcome respite from the sterility of the hospital. She wished it wasn’t her mother who had doled out this reprieve from therapy, the hospital’s medicinal stench and pills.

  Felicia slid her barely touched lunch to the side, leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. “I’m glad I got the right size. That dress looks like it was made for you—the color, style.”

  Silence was golden. “Don’t worry, I won’t give it back to you on a wire hanger.”

  “You can compare me to anyone but Joan Crawford. Please, those eyebrows.” Felicia half smiled. “I bet Alex has no idea he wears his heart on his sleeve. The way he looks at you—”

  “Maybe it’s gas.”

  Felicia sighed. “I’d hoped we could talk, enjoy an afternoon together—”

  “Should have guessed.” She stared at Felicia’s ringless finger. “I don’t have the energy or desire to console you about another broken engagement.” She turned her chair to face the sea.

  “That’s not what I want to talk about.” Felicia rose and leaned against the wooden railing across from Maddie. “I don’t tell you enough how proud I am of you.” She smiled. “You’re a lot more together and accomplished than I ever was at your age.”

  “Wasn’t hard. You didn’t set the bar that high.”

  Felicia nodded. “I was wildly promiscuous during my teenage years and emotionally absent during yours.”

  “I so don’t need that visual again.” Alex Donovan, I’m going to smack you for this.

  “I see you want to stay in our combat zone.” Felicia crossed her arms. “But this time I’m not going to walk away, no matter what you say. I would like to know how you feel—”

  “You want to know how I feel?” Maddie grabbed the napkin off her knee and threw it on the table. “You want to know how I feel about what? Your past? The fact that I’ll never know who my father is? Never know if I have any siblings? About the lengths you went to win Maxwell Hollister? The lengths he went to with Uncle George to get me here? I’m trying to come to terms with the absurdity of it all, so excuse me for ruining this cozy little Norman Rockwell mother-daughter luncheon.”

  The waiter arrived and cleared their lunch dishes. “Can I get you any dessert? Coffee?”

  They both declined. Felicia wiped her glistening forehead. “I was never more scared than when Alex called Maxwell to tell us you had been in an accident. I will never take you for granted again.”

  Maddie shrugged. “I know it must have been upsetting to receive the news. I’m fine now.”

  Felicia crouched, facing Maddie. “I’m not going to apologize for my life before you were born.” She clutched the arms of Maddie’s chair. “I will apologize for everything I’ve put you through since you were born. I hope someday you’ll forgive me and learn from my mistakes.”

  Maddie lowered her head, tracing a pattern on her dress. “I’ll remember that and come to you for advice if I ever decide to turn tricks.” Cripes, that was the meanest thing she’d ever said. She blew out a breath. “That was way out of line. I’m sorry.” But what did Felicia expect after yesterday? Talk about too much information.

  “You have every right to be angry,” Felicia said. “I deserve to be used for target practice. I want you to vent your frustrations if it will help. I told you, I won’t walk away.”

  “Damn it.” Maddie shoved her chair back with one hand and stood. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone for a while?”

  “Because you’re my daughter. I’m desperate to finally make things right with us.” She touched Maddie’s shoulder. “Let’s enjoy the sunshine. I’ll take small talk or no talk.”

  Maddie shrugged. She didn’t trust herself to speak. She concentrated on the jet skiers in the ocean with longing. She had planned a jet skiing day with Alex and had dared him to a hike and a zip-line adventure, too, before her elbow, spirits and hopes for finding her father were crushed.

  Felicia stood beside her. “You’re looking at those jet skiers like they’re chocolate fountains. You get your love for sports and everything sweet from my father.”

  Maddie closed her eyes and rubbed between her brows to ease some of the tension away. She didn’t know anything about her grandparents except they’d been killed in a car accident. Felicia and her uncle had always refused to talk about them and their own childhoods. She’d always sensed their family had to have been indescribably messed up.

  As a consequence, her mother had major issues—ha, that was the understatement of the year—but she was the only mother she had. Maddie returned to her chair and sat. “Tell me about your parents. Your childhood.”

  Felicia hesitated for a few beats. “It’s not a pretty story.”

  “Well, the chapters I’ve read so far haven’t exactly been—” Maddie breathed a calming breath. “Okay, sorry again. Wisecracks are now off the table.”

  Felicia grinned and glanced at her watch. “Shall we time you?”

  Maddie nodded. “Let’s see if I can break a record. So what were my grandparents like?”

  “I don’t want your pity about anything I tell you, and I don’t want you to think that I’m making excuses—”

  Maddie rolled her eyes. “You don’t know me, do you?”

  “I’m hoping to change that.” Felicia dragged her chair closer to Maddie and sat. “My parents died when I was eleven years old. My father was a truck driver. He loved sports, his motorcycle, books, Shakespeare and chocolate.” She smiled. “My mother was a seamstress and a great cook. She told bad knock-knock jokes and loved to rattle my father’s chain. She pulled pranks on her family and friends.”

  Maddie had to smile. “I come by it honestly.”

  “My mother’s sister, Shirley, was ten years younger than my mother. I don’t think my mother knew how wild her sister was.” Her lips twisted cynically. “I guess I come by that honestly. After my parents died, their lawyer explained that Aunt Shirley had been appointed our legal guardian. The house and lif
e insurance money were willed to her so she could take care of us.”

  “Did you have grandparents or any other uncles or aunts?”

  “Both sets of grandparents were long gone and my father was an only child.” She cleared her throat. “Shirley went through the insurance money real fast. She sold our childhood home and drained that as well, or maybe she stashed it away. I don’t know. We moved into a small apartment in Brooklyn. If Shirley wasn’t drinking, toking or snorting, she was…in a bad mood.”

  Maddie’s throat thickened. “She abused you and Uncle George?”

  Closing her eyes, she nodded. “She’d hit us and refuse to feed us until her next high.”

  Maddie was about to tell Felicia to push through the pain, as Jonathan instructed her to do. But this made Maddie’s physical therapy seem like a mosquito bite. Keeping the suggestion to herself, she gave what she hoped was an encouraging nod to continue.

  “When Shirley was high, she’d offer me to her…her boyfriends.” Felicia’s voice quivered. “I…I…didn’t fight it. They gave me and George food and protected us from her when I cooperated with them.” Felicia reddened. “When she sobered up she’d accuse me of stealing her men and would keep us home from school, locking us in our rooms for a few days.”

  Maddie gasped loud. The reality of it all hit her, leaving her numb and speechless.

  “After two years, social services finally stepped in. Foster care was a nightmare, so we took care of ourselves.” She lowered her gaze. “I made some bad choices. George did a lot better.”

  “Jesus.” Maddie’s voice came out of hiding. “You were kids. Where the hell were the police? Teachers? Neighbors? Anybody with a decent bone in their body to help you.”

  “Told you it wasn’t pretty. I wish I had inherited my mother’s genes instead of Shirley’s—”

  “Do not compare yourself to that monster. I know motherhood was a challenge for you, and I did resent coming second to your relationships, but you never drank, toked, snorted or laid a hand on me. And I’m sure I could have used a swat on the ass a few times.” Come to think of it, Maddie had never even seen her mother have an alcoholic drink, and there had always been an abundance of food, toys and clothes in their homes.

  Maddie took a breath. “Yeah, you married more than I would have liked, but those guys were idiots with more money than brains, not molesters or perverts. Thank you for that.” She realized after she’d said it that it was a backhanded compliment, but Maddie was more concerned with keeping lunch in her stomach than worrying about appropriate responses. “Why didn’t you tell me about your past before?”

  “What difference would it have made?”

  “We could have gotten you professional help. Why didn’t Uncle G. tell me about it?”

  Felicia let out a combination sigh-chuckle. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re all real good at arguing and getting mad at each other. Sharing the truth, talking about the past—”

  “Not so much.” Maddie grabbed the glass of water and drank it all.

  “And telling you about this wouldn’t have made me a better parent. I literally had no clue how to be a mother.” She stood and paced back and forth. Fortunately, there were only a few patrons outside on the other side.

  “After you were born, I was tired and sad and I didn’t know what was happening to me. I cried when you cried, slept when you slept and kept wondering when it was going to get easier. I’d take you to the park and see other mothers with their babies. They made it look easy. I was frustrated, because I thought mothering would come naturally. You were so independent from a young age, I made myself believe that you didn’t need me. Maybe you didn’t?”

  Maddie shrugged. Of course she’d needed her, but now was not the time to point that out.

  Felicia stood in front of Maddie. “I’m ashamed to admit that I couldn’t bond with you when you were a baby. I wanted so much to feel the same explosion of happiness I’d felt when I was with Maxwell.” She lowered her head and wiped at the corners of her eyes. “I realize now that I was immature and needy. I desperately needed to recapture the emotions I felt when I was with Maxwell.” Grabbing her purse, Felicia dug out a tissue. “I kept searching for that with each relationship.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “I should’ve put all that energy into being a better mother, creating a more stable life for you.” She sat down and took Maddie’s trembling hand. “I meant every word I said yesterday. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the best thing that happened to you.”

  Maddie wanted to tell her that she’d never regretted being born. But her voice had disappeared again. She picked up the frosted glass and pressed it against her hot cheeks. Closing her eyes, she pictured a little girl who’d lost her parents and had been forced to live with a demented, violent aunt. She’d read Alex’s Pulitzer Prize–winning article about the system failing children—children like her own mother and uncle.

  Maddie opened her eyes and signaled for the waiter. “I think we could both use some dessert, after all. Something strong.” She ordered a molten chocolate cake with extra chocolate sauce.

  The waiter placed the cake in the middle of the table, with two forks. Felicia chased the sweetness down with a cup of strong Kona coffee. Maddie enjoyed each bite with ice-cold milk.

  “For the record, I didn’t always think of you as a storybook villain.” Maddie speared a piece of cake with her fork. Chocolate sauce oozed out the middle. “I appreciated how you brought me a hot water bottle and chamomile tea when I’d suffer that first day every month.”

  Felicia smiled. “Tell me, which villain was I?”

  Maddie blushed. “She looked like Glinda, but wore striped socks and flew on a broom.”

  “Did a house fall on me?” Felicia laughed out loud. “I hope they were designer socks.”

  “You have to give me props for making you a pretty villain.” Maddie sat back in her chair. “You baked the best cookies for my school’s bake sales—”

  “I always hoped that would help the transition to a new school.” Felicia shook her head. “For the past few days, I’ve played our life together over in my mind.” She drew chocolate swirls with the tip of her fork. “What was I thinking, carting you across the country like that?”

  “On the positive side, it’s helped me to be flexible, a low-maintenance traveler—”

  “You don’t have to do this.” Felicia sighed. “There’s nothing positive about what I did.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to lighten the mood and since wisecracks are off the table…” She gave her mother a real smile. “Work with me. I used to be fascinated at the way you could create hair styles—you could even make a ponytail look glamorous. You should have been a hairstylist.” She leaned forward. “The way you’d apply your makeup with the precision of a surgeon. I wanted to tell you so many times you didn’t need all that makeup—two sets of false eyelashes. I guess having a tomboy was a nightmare for a girly girl like you.”

  Felicia inhaled the coffee before drinking some. “You wanted to tell me?” She laughed again. “You did tell me. Many times. You also lectured me about these lame implants.”

  “Guess I was a little opinionated.”

  “Was?” She broke off a tiny piece of cake and ate it. “Don’t forget hyperactive, precocious, creative, fearless, inquisitive and did I mention fearless?” She put her fork down. “Do you know why I never ask about your career? Because I’m a coward. I used to read your travel columns in the beginning and I’d see pictures of you parachuting, rock climbing. That hang-gliding picture gave me heart palpitations. I’m sorry I didn’t keep up with your career but I couldn’t stomach it. I knew it was useless telling you not to go on those assignments.”

  Maddie finished her milk. “You’re not a coward. You’re a survivor.” She stabbed at another chunk of cake. “I don’t know ho
w brave I’d be under the same circumstances.”

  Her mother regarded her with a serious expression. “You would have wiped the floor with those assholes.”

  Maddie’s fork stopped in midair. “You said assholes.”

  “And you gave me a compliment. See, people can change.” She wiped her mouth with the napkin and sat back. “I broke my engagement to Edmund because I want to stop filling the emptiness in my life with doomed relationships.”

  Maddie scraped the chocolate syrup off the plate. “You going to fly solo for awhile?”

  “That’s my plan.” She let out a short laugh. “For a long while, too.” She looked at Maddie without blinking. “God knows I have no right to ask you. But, I…I need you. Not the way I’ve needed you before, to boost me after a breakup or arrange another wedding. I’d like a different relationship with you than what we’ve had.” She reached out to touch Maddie’s hand. “What do you say we start over?”

  Maddie put her fork down, inhaled a deep breath, met her mother’s hand and touched her fingertips. “Small steps, okay?”

  “Sounds good.” Felicia nodded toward the patio door. Alex walked toward them. She smiled at him. “We demolished a whole cake, but can I order you some coffee or something to eat?”

  “Not surprised about the cake.” He smiled and kissed Maddie. “Nothing for me, thanks. Ready?”

  “I’ll go settle the bill.” Felicia stood. “I’m sure she’s had enough of me for one day.”

  Maddie wiped her hands, got up, stepped into Alex’s arms and put her head on his shoulder.

  He ran his hand through her hair. “You okay?”

  She looked up at him. “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “Bits and pieces.” He kissed the top of her head. “How are you doing?”

  “You know what they say. Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. I’m relieved she opened up. I’m so sad for her and Uncle G. It was a lot to take in, but it’s helped me understand her more…” She peered over Alex’s shoulder and cursed when she saw Crystal-Bitch-Washington.