Page 56 of Corrupted Union
“I guess this is it,” I say. “I probably won’t be coming back to New York for a while.”
She pulls me into a deep hug, one I didn’t expect. “I do love you, Francesca.”
Her words make my eyes sting as I hold back tears.
“I’m proud of you.” She steps back, smiling at me. “You did good, marrying someone with a high rank like Leo. It’s what any mother would want.”
I want to ask her why she ignored me so much if she’s always loved me, but the words don’t come. They never seem to when it comes to my mom.
“Come on, Lucia.” She grabs the five-year-old’s hand. “Luca.” He snaps his head toward her, then runs over. “We have our flight to catch.” Mom takes a moment to look at me—really look at me—before turning away.
I wave goodbye to my family and watch them go.
My mom always sends complicated emotions through me. Bitterness over her behavior toward me, desperation for her to show me love, and the love I have for her as my mother.
Watching her wrangle the twins into the car reminds me of my high school graduation.
I was waiting in the backstage area where they kept all the kids before they took their seats in the arena. My phone rang, and I saw it was Emilia.
“I’m here,” she said. “I can’t wait to see you come out and accept your diploma.”
“Are you with Marco?” I asked.
“Yep. He made the effort to come, which was nice.”
I ask the question I didn’t want to know but needed to. “Is Mom there yet?”
“Uh … I don’t see her.”
Disappointment dashed my heart in two. “The twins had a karate presentation tonight, but she said she’d make it.”
“I’m sure she’ll come.” Always the good sister. Reassuring me even when we both knew Mom probably wasn’t coming.
When the time came for me to walk on stage and get my diploma, I scanned the audience and found Emilia and Marco with Gemma and Viktor. My younger siblings weren’t there because it was a school night, and they had homework.
No sign of my mom.
I kept the smile on my face, took the diploma, and scurried off the stage. After receiving hugs from my sisters and congratulations from my brothers-in-law, I drove myself home and found my mom in the living room.
She was sipping a glass of wine with her feet up on the coffee table. Franco was nowhere in sight, and she looked more comfortable than I’d seen her since my dad’s death.
“When did the twins’ karate thing end?” I asked, stepping into the room in my graduation gown.
Her eyes widened when she saw me, her feet dropping to the ground. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Because it was my graduation, Mom, and you weren’t there.”
“But I had the twins—”
“I know. But when did it end?”
She looked at the clock on the wall. “Two hours ago.”
So, long enough for her to see me graduate, and she didn’t even make the effort. “Ok,” I whispered and walked away.
“Fran, wait.” She followed me. “I’m sorry. I should have been there, but—”
“It’s fine.” What I really wanted to say was “no buts.” There was no excuse for her to miss my graduation. “I just want to go to bed.” I left her there, looking guilty, and I felt glad. She should feel guilty for not being there. That was some consolation, at least.