Chapter 9

December 1971 – Cos Cob, Connecticut

Angela found her mother in the den, stretching in her workout gear by the stationary bike, Three Dog Night playing loudly on the turntable. Mona bent up to stretch her back with her hands together above her head, and Angela came over and hugged her tightly around the middle.

"Uughlff!" Mona gasped. "What's this?" she said, a little flustered. But Angela didn't let her go.

"Thank you," she said earnestly, behind Mona's head.

"For what, dear?" Mona scraggled out, still puzzled.

"For taking care of Ben."

"Oh, Angela," Mona sighed, and stepped back. Picking the needle from the record, she spoke a little softer. "I don't know why you think I'm so..." Mona shook her head. "Of course, I'd make sure he was okay. He's Ben."

"I'm sorry, Mother. I was just scared. I think of him as being strong, but also…dependent? And I really didn't want to leave him vulnerable."

"Well, neither do I." Mona paused, then sighed again. "I know you have it in your head that I'm made of stone, but even if I didn't give a whit about Ben, I care about you. And I know he's special to you." Angela felt tears pushing their way forward, so she dropped her head and nodded. Mona smiled sadly and walked over to her. Tipping up her daughter's chin, she looked into her eyes. "Angela, I know Ben and Carwen have been there for you. I've seen it. I've heard it. And I'm grateful for it." Mona gave a self-deprecating laugh. "And I've been jealous." Angela just kept staring at her mother, waiting. "I'm jealous of the closeness you have with them. I wanted you to tell me about your day, and smile when you saw me."

"I wanted to, too, Mother," Angela started, softly. She didn't want to start anything with her mother; the balancing act forbade it. Greg had made it clear she could really mess things up with forthrightness. She was just about to smooth things over with an, "I wish I had. Let's try. Do you want to hear about my drive down here?", when she thought about what Ben said. Why do I need to keep up the lies? So I can keep doing this? This isn't good. Why do I want it to stay like this? Because I've already lost my dad, and I barely have my mom as it is. One misstep, and I could lose everything! That's why! Angela had shut her eyes tighter and tighter as she thought. But then she saw Ben's quiet smile in her mind; a knowing smile; something steady and deep; something not dislodged by panic. As she started to breathe, she opened her eyes to her patiently waiting mother.

"Mother, I did want to talk to you. …But every time I tried, you'd get fidgety and find some excuse that needed tending." Angela's voice rose as honesty gathered its courage. "It hurt to always be chasing you. They just sat with me. They let me talk." Mona turned her head, and blinked away tears. "See? That! That right there!" Angela cried. "You don't show me any emotion. You just hustle past it as fast as you can." Mona forced her head up to look at her daughter.

"I know!" Mona yelled - then quieted. "I didn't know you knew. Well, at least, I kept hoping…you'd think I wasn't affected by everything." Angela frowned incredulously.

"Why wouldn't I want you to be affected?" Angela questioned quietly.

"Because it was all too much! It was historic, as far as we were concerned. Your father dying. Me not knowing what to do. You being scared. Your struggles with…" Mona's run of words quieted. "I hoped that if I kept up an upbeat, playful attitude, we could pretend the situation wasn't as extreme as it was."

"I was devastated. And you weren't around."

"I didn't know how to be! I was supposed to take the lead, and I couldn't. I didn't know what to do." Angela was amazed; her mother's normally stinging string of excuses sounded like fear to her.

"You could tell me that," Angela said softly.

"I thought you needed someone to make the problem not so big."

"I needed someone to see that the problem was big."

"Yes. Yes, it was. I had ton of money, and no idea how to keep it from running through my fingers. I had a teenage daughter who knew more about it than I did. I had a teenage daughter who didn't need me for anything! It was humiliating! I felt like, like you would be more scared by knowing your mother couldn't help you. So, I pretended it wasn't a big deal. You were good at bookkeeping." Mona popped her hands up, as a surprise reveal, "It was something you could do for funsies!"

Angela shook her head in disbelief. "For…funsies? My father just died; my mother wants me to handle the bills; I can't tell her how awful it all is - because it's not? - That's the spin you were going for?"

Mona paused. "Well, it's not like I mapped it out, but…yeah?"

Angela glared down at her mother. "I needed you. I needed you to tell me the truth. That's a whole lot less scary than adding pretense to the list of things I'm now responsible for balancing! And you did it because you were humiliated? What about me? What about what I was going through? You say you wanted me to come talk to you, but nothing was ever a big deal. Nothing was ever noteworthy enough to warrant a conversation!" Angela was now louder than she had been in years.

"I said I wanted it, not that I deserved it!" Mona spat back. "I don't push you, because I know Carwen and Ben are the ones who deserve your fervor. But I still crave it! I wish I had been different, but I still maintain I didn't know how to. It was an avalanche, and I couldn't get my footing! But I know I don't have a right to ask you to talk to me, so I don't." Mona's excuses were starting to sound hollow, even to her. Angela, who'd gone to squinting off to the side in anger, refocused back to her mother.

"Bullshit," Angela said with conviction, drawing a surprised frown from Mona. "You want me to buy that you haven't had a real conversation with me in six years because you didn't deserve to? That's pathetic. You haven't had a real conversation with me because you didn't want to tell the truth! You didn't want to say you messed up! You didn't want to say you're sorry!"

"That's not true!" Mona interjected. "I did want to say I was sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Mona cried. "But I didn't want to apologize, and then still do it! I still don't know how to talk to you."

Angela breathed a few times, as she calmed down to a speaking voice. "You mean, you don't know how to talk to me without being honest." Angela paused, and looked down. "I get that." Mona's fearful expression softened to a little smile.

"Well, I want to. I'm sorry, Angela," she said sincerely. With tears in her eyes, she continued, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was scared, and needed help. I'm sorry I pushed you into being that help. And I'm sorry I blamed you for how it made me feel. None of that was your fault. None of that was your responsibility."

Angela just looked at Mona, tears running down her cheeks. She stepped up to her, and gave her a long hug. Finally, Angela got a little voice able to speak. "I've really missed you, Mother," Angela said crying. Mona squeezed back, tighter.

"I've missed you, too, baby."

They held on for a several more seconds, then gave an awkward laugh as they wiped their eyes. Thinking for a minute, Mona tipped her head to one side, "Say, Angela?" Angela's eyebrows went up in question. "Do you want to go shopping later?"

Angela didn't really have a need to go shopping at the moment; truthfully, she was feeling almost replete. But she was dying to spend time with her mother. "I'd love to."