Chapter 29

29

I spent the whole next week working at my mother's firm as promised, and I hated every second of it. I'd been assigned to mundane things like getting coffee, filing papers, and organizing my mother's calendar. It was miserable. I knew that this industry was not for me before even starting that week. Sitting behind a desk in a small cubicle from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon made me feel suffocated. It was exactly how I felt at school.

I knew that I was meant to do something that kept me outside. I loved spending my time under the sun and around nature and people. But this was to appease Mum and get her off my back, so I would happily suffer a week trapped behind a desk than a lifetime of doing something that I resented.

It was the end of the week, and I watched as the clock ticked off the minutes of my last hour and a half of torture. It somehow made the time go slower watching the clock, and I willed that hand to spin faster until five o'clock.

I was so entranced by my stare-off with the clock that I didn't see my mother approaching behind me until she cleared her throat. I immediately sat up and spun my chair to face her.

Her face was fixed in a deep scowl like it had been that whole week inside these walls. The stress of the job etched a permanent scowl on her face. It was hard to believe she ever loved what she did.

"Finish whatever you're doing and meet me in my office in five," she muttered before turning on her heel and heading straight in the direction of her corner office, not waiting for an answer.

I released a deep sigh, preparing myself to get this over and done with so I could hightail out of there.

I was prepared for a fight. To face her disappointment or indifference. For her to keep shoving law down my throat like it was her day job, but when I walked into her office five minutes later with the door clicking closed behind me, I didn't expect her face to soften.

She pointed to one of the chairs in front of her desk. "Sit, please."

I wasn't used to seeing this side of her. I'd never seen a calm and motherly side to her since years before she left Dad. It was strange. I didn't know what to do other than hesitantly follow her soft command, feeling my face twist in confusion.

This I was unprepared for.

A deep sigh escaped between her lips as she regarded me, eyes flicking between my own.

"Look, I know I've been hard on you lately and pushing you into a career that you have voiced many times that you hated, but I just want you to know that it's because I care about you, Dakota. I know it may not seem like it, but I do. I want you to have a secure future. I don't want you to know what it's like to struggle in this world," she said, shaking her head slightly as pain flashed in her eyes. She whispered, "Not like I have."

I just watched her, not knowing what to say, as she cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

"Let me tell you a story," she continued on when I didn't say anything, and folded her hands over the table in front of her. "When I was a little girl, my family wasn't exactly stable. My parents struggled to put food on the table, and bills piled up around them. I can't tell you how many times we had our power cut because they couldn't pay the bill in time. Luckily, my mum knew someone who worked for the power company and could sweet talk him into turning it back on." She took a deep breath, a faraway look appearing on her face before she continued.

"When I was twelve, my bed broke, so I had to sleep on my mattress on the floor up until I moved out. I was so ashamed of even bringing friends over because we lived in this old, rickety house that looked like it was hanging on by its hinges.

"It wasn't my parent's fault, but I was so ashamed of our family because we were so poor. They tried so hard, but they were struggling. I couldn't afford lunch sometimes, and I couldn't afford the textbooks that were required for classes. I wore old worn-out shoes we bought from the op shop to school that were scuffed and stained. I secluded myself. I had people I hung out with during lunch breaks, but I wasn't really a part of their group." She chewed her lip, straightening in her chair as she looked at me again.

"I vowed that I wouldn't end up like them. That I would work my ass off to be financially secure for my future family, and I would never put them through that grief and make them resent me for not providing for me."

She paused, guilt running through her eyes. "But, I understand now that pushing you to find that securement before you're ready is making you resent me. And I want to apologise for being so hard on you lately. I just don't want you to feel how I felt when I was a young girl. I don't want you to feel unsure of your future because you feel limited to what's available. I just want you to be happy. I'm sorry for overstepping."

I swallowed, overwhelmed by her apology and her opening up about her past. It made me sympathise for her, and my gut twisted, picturing her childhood like that.

My mother was never one to talk about her feelings or any of her past, so this was huge for her. It was a peace offering. A sign that she didn't want to argue anymore and her owning her mistakes. A little bundle of hope brewed within me that maybe this was the olive branch that would lead to the mother-daughter relationship I had wished for. That instead of belittling my interests, she would start supporting them. I hoped I wasn't getting too ahead of myself as that hope grew bigger with her words settled over me.

"Thank you, Mum. That means a lot."

She pressed her lips together, masking her emotions. She nodded before clearing her throat and tucking rouge bits of light brown hair falling from her tightly pinned back low bun behind her ear.

"You can go home early if you'd like. I won't keep you here any longer than you want to."

I shot her a small smile as I stood and made my way to the door. She called my name just as my hand reached for the door handle.

"Maybe you would like to get lunch or something next week? I'm free Thursday," she suggested.

I hesitate, wanting so badly to say yes, but holding back because of my fears she would just cancel it the day before in favour of her work. Her job was demanding — I realised that during my week working for her — but it didn't have to be if she didn't offer her services to everything and anything that was dropped on her table.

Sensing my hesitation, she jumped to add, "I want to make it up to you, and I know my promises have no real hold on you because I've destroyed your trust, but I really just want to have my daughter back. Can you trust me in that?"

I swallowed, looking over at her, and her usual blank expression melted away as she regarded me with a soft, almost pleading look.

"I don't know if I'll be able to fully trust you just like that," I started and her face fell. "But I'm willing to try? I think it'll take some time, but if you're willing to actually show up and not make me feel like I'm a disappointment to you, then I guess I'll see you next Thursday."

I escaped her office before she could reply and exhaled a deep breath, the room making me feel suffocated with the uncertainty and the tiptoeing around.

But I felt like it was a step in the right direction for us, and maybe I would actually feel like I had a mother again.