“I told Mom the night of Vi’s wedding reception that I was closer to you for a reason. You don’t criticize everything I do.”
“Sometimes Rose only sees what she wants to see. I believe she’s jealous of our relationship and she takes it out on you.”
“I’ve tried to get closer to Mom since that night, but it’s not easy.”
“No, it isn’t,” her aunt said. “Let me tell you why.”
Daisy tried to brace herself because she had no idea what was coming.
Her aunt bit her lower lip and started. “When your mother had Camellia, it was as if God’s blessings shone down on all of us. She was an easy baby. She napped, she smiled, she slept at night fairly early on. Your mother even took her to the garden center in one of those swaddling carriers, and she worked alongside your dad. It was almost as if their life hadn’t been interrupted except to have been made better.”
Daisy wanted to jump in. She wanted to ask if she had been a problem baby. She wanted to ask so many questions. Instead she let her aunt go on.
“When you were born, something different happened with Rose. From the moment she brought you home from the hospital, she was upset. She had more sleep deprivation, which was common in a new mom and now a mom of two. But I could tell she didn’t attach to you as she had with Camellia. I don’t know the underlying reasons—if it was your mother’s psychological makeup or if it was hormones or if it was having two children to care for instead of one. Not as much was known about postpartum depression back then. Mostly it was ignored. It was called baby blues. There was an attitude even among professionals that said, Pick yourself up and move on. The chemicals in the brain don’t always respond to pep talks as you could well see with Violet. Your dad and I stepped in to take care of you because your mother seemed incapable of it. In that first year of your life when your mother couldn’t get her bearings, it affected all of us.”
Daisy felt numb and cold and almost bereft. She didn’t know what to say. Her mother hadn’t bonded with her and that’s what had led to their guarded relationship all these years later? That numb feeling started to melt away when she realized how grateful she was that Vi had the support system she had and a doctor who could help her. Vi was bonding with Sammy now, and he’d never have the desolation of feeling he was never close to his mom.
Tears came to Daisy’s eyes and she blinked them away. There was nothing to cry about. The past was in the past, and all they could do was go on from here. She took her aunt’s hand. “Thank you for telling me, and thank you along with Dad for always making me feel loved.”
Iris shook Daisy’s hand gently. “Your mother loves you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I’ve always thought her personality simply clashed with mine,” Daisy said.
“And it probably does,” Iris agreed. “I think she tried to overcompensate for what she didn’t feel that first year.”
“She does like to hover.”
Aunt Iris smiled. “Yes, she does. She does that with everyone, only more so with you. It’s her way of taking care of you. If you look at it that way, your relationship with her might be better. I think she has mellowed since Sammy was born.”
“Maybe,” Daisy agreed. “On the other hand, maybe she’s just been quiet because problems with Vi have brought her past back. Do you think she’ll ever talk to me about it?”
“There’s no way to know. But I felt you finally needed to understand your roots.”
Apparently, every family had its secrets. Maybe now she could stop blaming her own shortcomings for the way her mom reacted to her. Maybe now Daisy could see her mother in a new light . . . and just love her.
* * *
Daisy needed time to explore a particular site on the Internet on Friday evening. All day, that’s all she could think about. But she’d just arrived home with Jazzi, and supper loomed on the horizon along with feeding Pepper and Marjoram. She was about to do that when the doorbell rang. Checking her phone and the app on it, she saw that it was her mother. Had she been at Vi’s and something was wrong?
Hurrying to the door, she let her mother inside. “Hi, Mom. This is a surprise. Were you over at Violet’s?”
Her mother came in and her gaze scanned the downstairs. “No, I wasn’t at Violet’s. Is Jazzi around?”
“She’s upstairs working on a research project. Do you want me to call her?”
“No. No, I don’t.”
Puzzled, Daisy said, “Let me take your coat. Would you like to join us for supper? Are you alone? Did Dad have something to do tonight?” Her parents usually did everything together.
“Your father’s at home. I told him . . . I told him I needed to talk to you . . . alone.”
Warning signals clanged in Daisy’s head. Her first thought was—what had she done wrong now? Her mom wasn’t acting like her usual self. If she had something to criticize Daisy for, usually her back was straight, her demeanor authoritarian. Now she looked smaller, older, maybe even defeated.
Daisy motioned to the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable and I’ll brew us a pot of tea.”
Rose again glanced around the first floor. “This open concept . . .” She shook her head. “Can we go someplace more private to talk, maybe your bedroom?”
It was an odd request, but Daisy didn’t see why they couldn’t. “Sure. Go ahead in. I’ll bring you the tea as soon as it’s ready.”
Rose didn’t hesitate. She left her
