Shock - Marie Johnston Page 0,61
club went, I should refuse to attend. But by now Mom must realize I’m not coming back home and she still called and asked me to come.
I pull up my schedule. “When is it?”
“A month from Saturday. I know it’s short notice, but I don’t think you’ll have trouble finding a dress.”
“I’m not working.” And that means neither is Ford. “Will Ford be welcome?”
“Aurelia…”
I bite my lip. The sting of physical pain takes my mind off the hurt. Did she only ask me to get me in the same room as Samuel? “Mom. Samuel and I are done. I’ve moved on.”
“Ford’s a nice-looking young man. I’m sure he was a perfect rebound, but honey, you and Samuel… He’s been relentless for so long. I’ve heard he hasn’t been dating, or—”
“Dating isn’t the same as having sex. But neither one is any of my business. We’re done, Mom. You need to accept that it’s my choice.” I roll my lips in. I don’t usually challenge my mother. Having lawyers for parents should’ve made me an expert debater, but it’s only shown me how futile it is to continue with someone who’s determined to be right no matter how wrong they are.
“Your father and I have had a good life.”
“Okay?” This isn’t the turn I was expecting in the conversation.
“We…” She lets out a gusty sigh. “We started out much like you and Samuel.”
I stare at the abstract pattern in my blankets. Colors swirl, eventually mixing together to make a distinguishable picture. Unlike the pattern, I can’t make out what the hell Mom’s getting at. “What do you mean?”
“Before we were married, we broke up. Much like you and Samuel.”
I snort. “Did one of you cheat? Because otherwise, it’s nothing like me and Samuel.”
Her answering silence fills in the blanks.
I gasp and sit up straight. “No. Who?”
“Me, Aurelia,” Mom says tightly. “And it was a mistake. I was young and insecure and I didn’t make the same mistake ever again. Your father forgave me and we’ve been an unbeatable team ever since.”
It all makes sense. Mom’s ashamed of what she did. A mistake that must have happened nearly thirty years ago. What happened between me and Samuel has brought it all back, has exhumed all her feelings of shame and guilt and betrayal. “Do you think that if you can save me and Samuel that it’ll make up for what you did?”
“Of course not. But I know exactly how one stupid mistake doesn’t have to destroy something beautiful. You and Samuel were good together. He’s genuinely remorseful.”
“We’re not you and Dad.” They’re committed to each other. Whatever happened in the past, they realigned their goals in life and met each one. Infidelity wasn’t the straw that sent the camel crashing down.
“Aurelia—”
“No. I’m glad you and Dad made up. But I’m not Dad. He loved you enough to work things out. Samuel might seem like he wants to work things out, but he didn’t love me, not really. He loved the person both of you thought I should be.”
I don’t want to be a mini Elaine Wescott, or follow in Gerald Wescott’s footsteps. If I had been true to myself in college, I wouldn’t have fallen for a guy like Samuel. Likewise for him. He thought he was getting a young woman with big political ambitions who would do whatever he needed to make it happen, two-point-two kids and all. I’m not her.
I wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Samuel. I ran to a small town that I knew none of them would follow me to, at least not for my sake. I wanted to surround myself with people who supported me instead of expecting that my only role in life was to support them.
I can stand up to both Samuel and Mom now.
“What are you talking about?” Mom hasn’t reached the epiphany I just did. “You were head over heels for him. That’s why what happened was so devastating. I understand that. I’ve been trying to help you see that you’re a strong girl, and together, you two can get through this.”
“I am strong, but I wasn’t then. Mom, I don’t want to be a lawyer. I don’t want to be a judge or run for public office. I don’t want to follow my parents around, and definitely not my husband. If I never see another reporter, it’ll be too soon.”
“You always did evade the spotlight. I could barely get you on stage for your school plays.”
It’s enough to coax a