when you get home, I will.” Her eyes bored into her daughter’s, and Liz grinned.
“You really think it’s any good?” She looked and felt like a child as she asked.
“I sure do. It’s just what I said to you yesterday. It’s not Louis XV furniture, or Shakespeare, but it’s what everybody wants to read, just like what I do at The Factory. I think you’ll be just as successful with your book. You need a title, by the way,” she reminded her.
“I was thinking of calling it Crap,” Liz said, and they both laughed.
“It has kind of a catchy ring,” Olivia added, and they laughed again. She put an arm around her daughter’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “I’m very, very, very proud of you. It’s terrific! I just had a feeling it would be. Thank you for having the courage to let me read it. I’m very excited for you about this book.”
“Now what do I do?” Liz said nervously. She had been sure her mother would hate it too.
“Call your agent. He’ll know which publisher to show it to.” The idea that it might actually work and someone would publish it took Liz’s breath away.
“I’m scared,” she said honestly. She had been braced for failure all her life. She had never thought about what it would be like to face success. It might even be worse.
“Everybody’s scared. I’m scared a lot of the time too. A lot of things can go wrong in life, like your father dying so young, and mine even younger than that. But a lot of things can go right too. I think you’re due for some good luck. I really hope this will be it.”
“Thank you,” she said, and squeezed her mother’s hand. What she had just said meant the world to her. And for some reason she had more faith in her mother than she did in Sarah. Her mother had a point about Sarah being an intellectual snob. She hadn’t understood any of what Liz had tried to do. Her mother did. “I’ll call my agent when I get home.”
And then Olivia brought up something else that had haunted her all night, along with Liz’s book. “You know, all those stories you and the boys told last night about when you were kids. It really brought it home to me how much I was away. I don’t remember a single one of those stories. I’m so sorry I was gone so much. If I could do it differently, I would. It’s too late now, but I just want you to know that I regret it.”
“I know you do, Mom. And honestly, we were okay. Daddy and Granibelle were great to us, and so were you when you were home. Somebody had to do what you did, and I don’t think Dad could have. It had to be you.”
“I missed so much of your childhood, though. You and John seem to have made your peace with it. But Cass and Phillip never will.”
“Phillip was always a big complainer, even when he was a kid,” Liz said, and Olivia laughed. Even from what she remembered, it was true. And Cass had been angry from the day she was born. Liz had been a happy, peaceful baby, and sunny child, and so was John. It was just who they were, even as kids.
The two women sat holding hands until the swells died down, and enjoying the peaceful sunny morning. Olivia sensed that something important had happened between them, and Liz felt it too. And in some ways it had happened because of her book. But forgiveness came easily with Liz, more so than with the others. Olivia realized that not all her children would forgive her, but if even some of them did, or just Liz, it was a gift. But to Phillip and Cass, her sins had been unforgivable, or that was how it seemed to Olivia now. And no matter how much she regretted it, it didn’t change the past. History couldn’t be rewritten, and what mattered was how her children viewed it, no matter how good her intentions had been.
The sea was flat again as they approached Sardinia, and by the time they slid into port in Porto Cervo, and tied up at the dock, with yachts as large as theirs on either side, Liz felt fine again. She and Olivia ordered breakfast, and they were just finishing when the others came up. Amanda said she had felt the