Page 74 of Grasp The Moment

She was a hollow shell of the woman I knew. Her eyes were sunken in, dark circles showing off her lack of sleep over the past few months. She’d lost weight and her hair, the once-glowy array of bombshell curls, was lifeless.

That woman wasn’t my mother that day.

She was a woman who’d gone through the toughest year of her life in silence, aware of her husband's infidelity, and stuck in the house where they raised their daughter. A woman who’d seen the evidence and stayed. She was strong yet idiotic all the same.

But at the end of the day, she was my mother… and I love her.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m graduating in May… Guess those summer courses paid off.” I chuckle quietly, switching the phone from one ear to the next as I fill Agnes’s food and water bowls.

My mom lets out a quiet squeal, and I picture her dancing around her kitchen in Paris, a little mug of espresso in her hands.

After she and Dad finalized their divorce four months ago, Mom made her way to the City of Lights. She’d always wanted to live in Paris as she’d grown her fine fragrance business. Although the home of fine fragrance is about an eight-hour drive south of Paris, she fell in love with the city immediately.

Mom sighs contentedly. “I’m so proud of you, Peach. I’ve always known you could do it.”

A blush creeps up the back of my neck as I chuckle. “No, thank my tutors these past three years. College would be absolute hell had I not found a tutor who could help with my dyslexia…”

I was diagnosed with the condition in kindergarten afterfailing to recognize the difference between multiple letters and my inability to read certain fonts. I still struggle heavily with my dyslexia all this time later, but I’ve gotten a lot better at reading with time.

I met Cleo and Jace the year after I was diagnosed, and the two of them helped me throughout school, making sure to give me their notes and explain readings when I didn’t understand them.

“I’m serious, Georgia. A few years ago, you were a tiny little thing running around the backyard with Cleo, and now you’re graduating college a year early?—”

“Well, technically, I’m on time,” I reply as she gives me an exasperated sigh.

“Let me have this, Peach… When’s grad day? Have you already designed your dress? Who am I kidding? You’ve probably sketched and sewn it by now?—”

I cut her off with my laughter, “Slow down, woman. I can only think so fast… My graduation is on?—”

I check the calendar on the fridge, my eyes lock on my graduation day, and then trail down to the invitation attached to the fridge. Sighing, my smile drops.

“Uh, Mom… I’ll call you?—”

“It’s close to the wedding, isn’t it?” she asks, and the pain in her voice breaks me a little.

Love hasn’t worked out in this family… They’re a prime fucking example of this. Love is supposed to be patient and kind, yet when I think of the notion… all I’ve ever seen is hurt. Love hurts, and it’s fucking scary.

Mom’s voice crackles over the line. “It’s okay to tell me if it is. I’m not upset, trust me.”

Exhaling, I nod even though she can’t see me.

“It’s the week before the wedding… Derek thinks that we should skip the wedding, but…” I trail off, not knowing where to go with this.

She and I haven’t so much as said my father’s name, and now we’re talking casually about the fact that he’s marrying the woman who helped him step out on his marriage.

“He’s your father…” she says.

“Yup.” I sigh. “But it’s fine. Derek’s gonna be there with me.”

Mom gasps, her excitement contagious through the line as I open the fridge. I have classes today, and both Deli and Derek are already off to school and class.

My eyes land on the green smoothie that I prepared last night. I reach for it, pausing as my mother speaks.

“How is Derek and Deli—my grandbaby? Have they been okay?” she asks, her voice filled with hope as my eyes land on the green lunch bag nestled in the fridge.

Raising a brow, I take the bag out, bypassing my drink, and set it on the counter.

“They’re okay, Mom. Derek took her to school this morning, and then he—” I open the lunch bag and grin as I pull out the neatly scribbled note placed on the food container.