Chapter 42

Evelyn

“Oh, look at that sweater!” Mom squeals, looking in the window of the next department store we pass.

“Who would you even give that to?” I question.

“Me, duh,” she winks.

“Mom!” I laugh at her.

“What? Am I not allowed to buy myself new things?” She asks, aghast.

“No, obviously you’re allowed! But we’re Christmas shopping.”

“You’re no fun,” she teases me with a sigh.

“Come on, who else do you need to buy for?” I ask, bumping shoulders with her as we go.

We’re less than a week from Christmas, and Mom and I are finally out with every other person on earth buying Christmas presents in downtown New York. It’s not just frigid out here, it’s a madhouse.

So far, I’ve picked up gifts for Gregory and Olivia. I already ordered Mom’s gift, though she’s blissfully unaware, and I just have one more person to shop for.

Sebastian.

While all gifts for everyone were surprisingly easy, I continue to turn down any gift I consider for Sebastian. How do I show him that I care about him and appreciate him in a way that doesn’t get turned around?

Not only that, but it’s snowed the past few days, and I’m not exactly built for all this ice and snow crap.

“I have to buy for some of my ladies from back home, to show them I miss their antics,” Madelyn admits as we get to a crosswalk with a large crowd of other people.

“So, you bought for the three of us, then?” I fish, hoping she’ll reveal her ideas.

“Oh, honey, I had your gifts ready in September. Give your old Mom some credit here.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head and the light changes to green for us to cross. She’s ridiculous, I swear.

“What about you?” She lobs the question in my court.

“Just one more to buy,” I state with a shrug.

“You’re not even going to tell me who?” She whines.

I laugh. “Mom! What, are you ten?”

“No, I turned eleven last week.”

I groan at her terrible jokes. “Has marrying Gregory made you more sarcastic than you already were?” I ask.

“Who’s to say.”

“I have one more person to buy for. Everything else is done. I’m not telling you who it is because I want to figure out the best gift for this person.”

I walk around a large patch of what looks to be black ice, which I’ve heard is positively deadly in the winter. Madelyn seems to be considering what I’ve said to her in the meantime.

I decide to distract her from guessing my last purchase. “Did I tell you my grades came in?”

“I’m not sure, did we have a whole celebration with lots of balloons and confetti?” She asks back.

“No, I think that was your other daughter.”

“Damn, how did you find out about her? I was so careful,” she deadpans.

“Straight A’s, just like always,” I say with pride. “Told you I’d be fine.”

We pass another store, and we both agree to head on inside to search for items. I’m starting to feel like I’m never going to figure out the perfect gift for Sebastian.

That it’ll all be for nothing.

I start down the aisles, looking between clothes, ties, and anything else that might catch my eye.

“So, your grades are intact, no surprise there,” Mom muses as she sifts through some men’s shirts. “What else is going on? You seem to be acting like yourself again.”

I sigh, knowing she was planning on dropping this on me. “Just had a bad falling out with a friend.”

Mom’s eyes meet mine, and I see her sympathy start to show. Her free hand holds onto my chin, and she sighs.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is,” I shrug, pulling back from Madelyn’s grip. “She hates me, and there’s nothing I do will change it.”

“Hates you? Who would choose to hate you, honey?”

I shake my head to tell her there are no answers.

“Was it over a boy?” Madelyn asks, concerned.

I almost walk straight into a pillar in the room, shock from her decent accuracy filling me with full dread.

Oh, fuck, I have to change this now.

“No, it wasn’t a boy,” I start, eyeing the woman who raised me. “She and I just don’t get along.”

“Have you tried to speak to her?”

If I keep it up with this conversation, I’m going to burst into tears right here and now. I have to change the subject and get her thinking about anything else.

“Is everything going well with Gregory?” I try acting nonchalant as I continue looking through the items sold in the store.

“Are you deflecting?” She asks, narrowing her eyes.

I shrug again, turning down another aisle to the point we’re seeing each other over racks and hangers.

“Does he treat you well?” I attempt again.

“Gregory? Of course he does.”

“I just don’t really see you two being in love as much as I could have before the wedding,” I admit.

“Well, you and Sebastian were never in the picture until Gregory asked us to move in. We both didn’t want to upheave the lives you created unless we were positive that we’d be happy as a full family.”

“So, if you two had never gotten married, I might have never met Gregory and Sebastian?” I reiterate, trying to lower my voice and shock.

“I guess you can put it that way,” Madelyn confesses.

Too bad it wasn’t that way.

“So, anyways, Gregory makes you happy, you seem to be adjusting to New York and married life, so that’s what’s most important.”

“It’s not the most important, Eve. You are what’s most important to me. You were always what I strived to work hard for.”

I snort quietly, not fully believing her.

“And now you’re going to be going back home without me there. It’s just so strange in my head. I mean, I’m glad Sebastian has agreed to go with you to keep you safe and to make sure you’re not alone.”

“Would you not have let me go otherwise?” I press.

“Your relationship with your stepbrother deserves to grow and flourish. I always wanted to give you a brother or father who could keep you safe.”

Is that a joke?

“You were the one who did that, though.”

“Not always. I was working. The hotel was our lives for so long and the last thing I wanted was to bring you down.”

“I’m so confused,” I voice. “You didn’t bring me down, Mom, you provided for us.”

“So, does this mean you miss home? The hotel? The lonely feeling that came with every single morning and night?”

Why is she pushing this? Why is she speaking so strangely?

The more she says, the more anxiety starts to fill my head with paranoid thoughts.

“Do you miss the hotel?” She asks again, and this time, I can’t hold it all in.

I let myself freeze on the spot, my body shivering as if back out in Times Square with nothing to wear.

My eyes begin to grow teary, and I even feel myself shaking.

What is this, what’s happening right now? I don’t understand why bringing up the hotel is doing this to me.

“Eve, hon, what is it, what’s wrong?”

My body keeps shaking, but I can’t control any parts of myself any longer. In one second, I’m bursting into tears at the mention of that wretched place I used to call home.

Madelyn, for her part, pushes her way over to my side of the racks and grabs me tight, holding me close to her.

“Breathe honey, just take deep breaths. I think you’re having a panic attack.”

I’ve never experienced a panic attack before. I don’t know why after all these years and all the trauma this seems to be sprouting up out of the blue.

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere, just take your time and remember to keep breathing.”

I don’t have much of a choice, so I do as she says, letting my body inhale as much air as possible before exhaling again.

It takes a few minutes and some strangers staring at us before I can calm myself enough to where I’m not in hysterics. I sit on one of the display racks tables, not even bothering to care if I ruin or mess up a display.

“I don’t mind giving you space when you need it, but Eve, that’s my final straw. You haven’t been yourself since we moved to New York, yet as soon as I mention our old lives, you shut down.”

“No,” I say simply, still visibly shaken. “I’m not the same.”

“Then why? Talk to me so I can help.”

I let my eyes look around the department store before I bring my mother down to my level to finally admit why the hotel is no longer a safe memory.

As I tell her, watching her nose twitch or her eyes narrow, I do feel blessed to have Madelyn clued in on my weaknesses and fears.. She even grabs me and hugs me tighter, not seeming interested in letting go.

“I don’t care what it is that has happened. If this is what staying silent has done, then we’re no longer staying silent,” she demands.

“It’s over, though,” I say plainly. “Doesn’t happen.”

“It just did, though. That was terrifying, watching you shut down like that, so I’m not letting you do this alone anymore, do you understand?”

I let her stroke my long curls in her comforting words.

“You can always let me know when there’s something like this on your mind. I’m your mom, honey. Let me do that job.”

I squeeze her tight, grateful for this mom and this life.

“I love you,” I say between tears.

“I love you too,’ she sighs, holding me even tighter.