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They both knew well enough that their mother’s criticism was directed at Gina, not at Vicky.
The hand-grab was to make Patty feel better, so she could walk away believing she’d reached out and done the neighborly thing.
Lorraine’s voice was her weapon of choice in life,
her mother’s lecture about not taking immediate steps to fix her clumsiness practically echoed in her ears already.
“Why did you even bother to come if you weren’t going to bring flowers? I taught you better than that.”
She was impressed Regina remembered to bring them. Perhaps Victoria had reminded her.
He treated her as a gift in his life, someone to treasure, not as an afterthought or employee. Her parents treated marriage as a business proposition.
She had always viewed her mother as someone to placate, keep happy, try to please. She never thought of her as someone she wanted to know.
She didn’t care that he was poor, or that her parents disapproved. She wanted to spend the rest of her life making him smile like that. He made her a better person, helping her realize she didn’t need to rely on her parents for everything.
May always felt like Grandma Lorraine was studying her, looking for what she was doing wrong, like not standing straight or not speaking clearly. So, she tried to stay out of Grandma Lorraine’s line of sight when they were in the same room.
Lorraine loud-whispered to Gina, “His hair is a bit long.”
“I don’t even know where to begin with you both. I love him. I don’t care if you disapprove of his career. He’s hardworking, kind, and treats me like the center of his universe. That’s more than Dad ever does for you.” She pointed to her mom. “He asks about my day and actually listens. He thinks I look my best when we first wake up in the morning, with my horrible hair and dragon breath.”
“You say you’re disappointed in my choice. Well, I’m disappointed in you. He is everything to me, and you can’t even be happy. We’re only dating, but it’s serious, and after the nonsense you’ve pulled tonight, I see no reason for you to be a part of our life. I hope Vicky gives you lots of perfect grandchildren, because you’ll never meet our kids.”
What was that old saying? You are most critical of the flaws in others that you have yourself.
Except Regina was stronger than she was. Instead of turning cold, Regina found the warmth in everything. She had never met a glass of water that wasn’t half full, and Lorraine admired that. Perhaps if Lorraine had been able to share her own pain, they wouldn’t be sitting silent next to each other when there was so much they should be saying.
Looking back at that night, at how she’d felt so heard, Lorraine realized she had forgotten how to speak way before the stroke. She had stopped saying what was in her heart, stopped valuing her own voice. For so long, and out of fear, she’d parroted the words expected of her by Floyd, by the ladies at the club, by her own misguided belief that ignoring Joe’s memory was the best way forward. Not anymore. She would find her voice again.
Before the stroke, she was too busy finding fault in their behavior, or their parents’ parenting decisions to really see them. Or for them to see her.
Regina had Floyd’s business sense, Joe’s relentless optimism, and her stubborn determination was all Lorraine. Victoria had Joe’s humor, Floyd’s pragmatism, and Lorraine’s impeccable style. They would both be fine.
I’ve already got you signed up for brownies, May. You make the best, so you’re trapped by your own excellence.”
No matter how messy things got, they had people who loved them, who watched out for them, who would help them clean those messes up. They would all be okay.
