of other single women who lived nearby, but they appeared to have their own network of friends and showed no interest in branching out. Unfortunately, it made it all too easy to end up a virtual recluse, with her main source of company and entertainment coming from a five-year-old. Don’t forget dear old Mom.
When Sara’s father had died unexpectedly of a heart attack a few months after Kaylee was born, she saw firsthand what a bad thing it could be for one partner to coddle the other. Her father had controlled everything. Her mother had never paid a bill before, nor did she have a clue as to how much money they had in the bank. By being the man of the house in all aspects, he’d essentially ensured that his wife wouldn’t be able to stand on her own feet should something happen to him. Sara knew he hadn’t done it maliciously. He doted on his wife and wanted to take care of her. He didn’t want her to be upset over anything. Even though the doctor said that his heart attack was caused by blockages in several major arteries, she knew that the stress he had to be under at times couldn’t have been good for his health.
So now, Sara had taken over the finances for her mother. And Chris handled any type of repairs. For a while she attempted to get her mother involved each month when she went over the household account, but she’d wring her hands and make a million excuses why she couldn’t. Eventually it seemed easier and faster to do it herself. Hello pot, meet kettle. Their father had probably come to the same conclusion years ago, so how could she hold it against him? And if Sara was bad, Chris was worse. He treated their mother like fine china. And in his defense, their mother seemed to be a master at working them to her advantage. She had the “poor me” act down to a science. Plus, if she met any resistance, she could, and would, produce tears in five seconds flat. It was actually kind of impressive. Poor Kaylee didn’t stand a chance. Not only was her mother emotionally manipulative, but her grandmother was too. It’s totally genetics. At least Kaylee has me.
Basically, what it all boiled down to was that Sara had two kids to take care of. And Kaylee was the only one who wanted to learn new things. Their mother was firmly committed to being coddled, and didn’t seem to care who it inconvenienced. Sara loved her mother, but a part of her had also started resenting the fact that she seemed to want and expect her daughter to put aside any thoughts of having a life of her own. Before their father died, her mother had urged Sara to get out more. To meet someone and settle down. But that encouragement had packed up and skipped town. And in its place were guilt-laced words, such as “I don’t know what I’d do if you left me too, Sara.” Or the ever-popular “I’m so lucky you decided not to get married.” When exactly was that choice made? Congratulations, Sara, you’ve won a lifetime supply of mommy-sitting. Step right up and claim your prize.
“Hellooo, I know you’re there, I can hear you breathing.” Sara nearly jumped off the bed as her cousin’s raised voice came through the line. She’d been so busy brooding over her mother that she hadn’t been aware of pressing the speed dial for Chloe.
“Er—sorry about that.” She laughed as she reclined against the headboard. “I was a little distracted and missed you answering.”
“That was about five minutes ago,” Chloe said wryly. “I just put the call on speaker while I dried my hair.” Oh crap, had it really been that long?
If anyone would understand the deal with her mother, it was Chloe, but Sara didn’t feel like rehashing another exciting episode of “Why my world sucks ass” right now. She’d save that for a rare evening out and a fishbowl margarita. Better make that several if you’re going to get through it without sobbing uncontrollably. “I got a response,” she said excitedly. “Can you believe it? I was floored. I really had no expectations to begin with, and what few there were had pretty much dwindled away by now.”
“Sara, that’s wonderful,” Chloe exclaimed before asking, “Exactly what are we talking about? Wait—is this about the letter to the manager of the Walmart down the street