I can do. I probably shouldn’t have called, but I thought that maybe, when Shae is planning, if you could suggest some lower budget ideas...”
“I’m happy to do that, Mom. And you should consider having another serious talk with David. It isn’t like he’ll kick you out of the house. You’ve been married for how many years?”
“He’ll go into one of his moods, Liv. And I don’t think I can handle that on top of the wedding plans.”
“You can’t let him control you with black moods, Mom.” The words shot out of Liv’s mouth and were followed by a very long silence. “Mom?”
“I am not controlled,” Vivian finally said.
Then what would you call it when you’re afraid to negotiate with your husband?
Liv should know. She was guilty of doing the exact same thing for too many years. Was it even possible to have a close relationship with someone without giving up control of your own life? For Shae maybe—but that didn’t count because she was the controller.
Not that Liv didn’t have sympathy for her mother. She did confront problems now, instead of working around them or hoping they’d go away, but no matter how many affirmations she muttered, direct conflict was still difficult for her. How could she expect her mother to be any different? Especially when Vivian didn’t see acquiescing to everything as being controlled but rather as a survival technique?
“I will try to talk Shae down,” Liv said.
“You can’t tell her I talked to you.”
“I won’t.” She smiled grimly. “I kind of set the stage with the bridesmaid dresses, so I’ll just continue like that.”
“She did budge a little there,” Vivian said with a note of optimism in her voice.
“Yes, she did,” Liv replied reassuringly. Almost two hundred dollars worth of budge, which was huge. “Don’t worry, Mom. We’ll get the wedding pared down to a reasonable amount of money.”
“Thank you, sweetheart—” She heard a male voice in the background and then Vivian said, “Just Liv, honey, with some questions about the dresses. I’ll be right there.” Liv put her palm on her forehead and closed her eyes. Oy. To live like that.
You almost did.
“I have to go, sweetie. Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Relax. I’m in your corner. Silently in your corner,” she added before saying goodbye. The line went dead almost before the last word was out of her mouth.
For a moment Liv simply stayed where she was, phone loosely held in one hand as she stared off across the room.
Her mother was happy with David. He made her feel secure, but the cost seemed steep. Why was the balance of power in successful relationships often so one-sided?
Because that was what made those relationships successful.
Shae was probably going to have a very successful marriage.
* * *
“THAT MADISON GUY is talking smack about you,” Craig said when Matt came into the house after more than an hour of straight dummy roping. His shoulder hurt and he headed for the cupboard to get a hit of ibuprofen.
“How would you know?” he asked as he made his way across the shining kitchen floor to where Craig sat at his computer.
“That research I told you about. I’ve been keeping tabs on your career on the internet.”
Craig leaned back in his chair. “Look at this.”
Matt knew better, but he looked anyway. More of the same. Ryan was getting pretty damned good at twisting the knife just a little while maintaining a facade of classiness.
“Well, what now?” Craig demanded.
“I either live with it or do something about it,” Matt muttered.
Craig gave a satisfied nod, obviously figuring living with it wasn’t a viable option. The kid was correct. “What’s the plan?”
Matt poured a glass of water. “I guess I’d better get on a horse and see what I can do.” He’d been advised not to, of course, but the doc was probably thinking he wanted to rope and dally. Instead, he’d break away—rope the calf and then release the lariat rather than dismounting and tying—which should be easy enough on his knee, and he could start tuning up Ready for the competition. He’d rather be tuning up Beckett, but that wasn’t going to happen. No. Instead, the best rope horse he’d ever ridden was doing patterns in an arena and his lawyer had been adamant that there wasn’t one damned thing he could do about it. The sale was legal. Bogus, but legal.
“Want me to help you mount?” Craig asked with a cackle.
“Maybe,” Matt said, smiling when the grin faded off the kid’s