Hello again! Here is Chapter 12 of Riptide. I am slightly nervous to hear y'all's reaction to this chapter...

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Chapter 12

Mom's mouth opened in surprise, but she quickly recovered and crossed her arms, dropping her suitcase.

"Bella, you never mentioned a boyfriend," She said tightly, her eyes full of hidden emotions as they met mine.

"Uh...it happened somewhat recently." I looked at Edward nervously, and his face was full of amusement. He chose then to walk over to us.

"It's nice to meet you," He said warmly.

"Mrs. Dwyer." She interrupted.

"Mrs. Dwyer." He repeated, offering her his hand. She placed her hand in his hesitantly and shook it. Edward, full of charm, shook it gently and his damn crooked smile made an appearance.

"Bella, I'm feeling a little run down after my day of traveling. Please take my bags to where I am sleeping so I can rest." Mom's voice was full of dramatics.

"Allow me, Mrs. Dwyer." Edward stepped around me to grab her luggage effortlessly. He was careful not to touch me. My mother had brought a stuffed duffle bag and a rolling suitcase. Knowing her, she had packed entirely too much.

"Thank you," She said with a false smile. When he turned to leave, she jabbed me in the ribs. "What the hell, Bella!" She furiously whispered.

"Mom, calm down!" I whispered back, rubbing my side.

Edward returned and his eyes zeroed in on my hands on my side. His brow furrowed slightly before melting away to try to charm my mother.

"Bella, please make dinner plans, as I'm sure I will be hungry after I wake up from my nap." She tossed her wavy brown hair over her shoulder and looked at me expectedly.

"Sure, mom." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Turning to Edward, I said, "Would you like to join us for dinner, Edward?" My eyes pleaded with him, but he only grinned. My mom's eyes widened, then narrowed into tiny slits.

"I appreciate the invitation, Bella, but I'm afraid I have dinner plans with my own mother." Amusement danced in his green eyes. When my mother glanced away he winked at me. Annoyance bubbled up inside me.

"Another time then," I bit my lip and gave Edward an annoyed look. His smile faltered slightly and I felt a wave of success. I lead him to the door, opening it.

"It was nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Dwyer. I hope to see you soon."

"Yes, I'd like to get to know you better." A warning clear in her voice. She leaned against the door frame of the spare bedroom with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Bye Edward," I said gently.

"I'll call you," He replied, looking deep into my eyes. I'm sure he was trying to read my expression. He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek before leaving.

I stood there at the open door until he had driven away, trying to absorb the calm before the storm my mother would create. I sighed, closing the door, and finally meeting her stony gaze.

"Isabella, I'm irritated you have been keeping so much from me. We will talk about this after my nap. I need to calm my nerves."

I took a deep breath and headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

I had just pulled the chicken out of the oven when my mom decided to make her presence known. She had changed into a sleeveless olive green dress and her wavy brown hair framed her face. Having my mom visit brought back so many fond memories of when we would visit Aunt Irina.

"I don't know how you do it, Bella." She said, exasperated. "How could you come back to this place full of such horrible memories."

"I recall our summers we spent here as a family which was full of happiness." I countered, stirring the pasta salad.

"Why would you come back to the place where Riley died?" She was now on the other side of the counter, hands on her hips.

"I've tried to explain it before. Riley wouldn't want me to cower away from a place I love because of a horrible accident. I actually feel closer to him because I'm here."

"You should come back to Arizona." She shook her head.

"Mom, I've built my life here. My business and friends are here."

She snorted. "Painting is hardly a business."

I dropped the wooden spoon I was using and glared at her. "I have been able to support myself very well here. I own a gallery and an art studio, which is most definitely a business. I work very hard in what I do, and I don't understand why you have to belittle my choice of profession every time we talk."

Her eyes widened. "Don't you speak to me that way, Isabella."

"I'm at a point in life where I can't let you control all of my decisions. I'm an adult now. I live two thousand miles away from you, yet you insist you must control every aspect of my life." Tears formed in my eyes as everything I had been holding back from her surfaced.

Mom took a step back, almost as if I had knocked into her. She recovered her weakness quickly and stood tall. "Bring my dinner to my room when it's done. I don't want to talk with you right now." She turned on her heel and slammed the door to her temporary room.

Real mature, Mom.

This is not how I expected her visit to go. I plopped onto the couch with my head in my hands. My words had hurt her, yes, but they were true. Regret flooded my body. I couldn't handle her being upset with me. Riley wouldn't want me to fight with her, especially when she made an effort to come here.

A few minutes went by and I stood up shakily. How do I apologize for telling her how I feel? I stepped towards her door precariously and hesitantly raised my closed fist to knock on her door. Rapping softly on the door, I heard rustling from inside and then light footsteps.

She opened the door barely and stuck her face between the door and the doorframe.

"Mom," I began, "I'm sorry I spoke to you like that. I should have articulated how I felt in a different manner. Will you join me for dinner?"

She opened the door a bit wider and crossed her arms over her chest. "I only want what's best for you and I know what's best for you." My frustration reared its head again, but I took a deep breath to level my head.

"Come sit at the table to eat, and we can talk."

She pulled the door open further and took a seat at the kitchen table. I plated the chicken, pasta salad, and asparagus quickly and joined her at the table. We ate in awkward silence for a few minutes, the only sounds were from the forks and knives lightly scraping our plates.

"Bella, as I've said, I only want what's best for you. I wanted so much for you and Riley when you both were little, and now I only have you."

I chewed slowly as I thought about how to reply. "I understand, and I appreciate that. I appreciate everything you have done for me, but now I need your support. I need you to support me as I'm figuring life out on my own. I love you, Mom, so much, but I need to make some of my own decisions. I appreciate your opinion and guidance along the way, as I don't know where I would be without you. Some of my wants and desires differ from what you planned out for me, and I want you to accept that."

"You've grown into such a smart young woman, sometimes too smart. I don't understand the practicality behind some of your major decisions, like moving all the way out here. Even if you weren't an artist, would you still find a purpose here? There are so many scars here, and I don't understand how you can just forget about all that has happened."

"I feel drawn to Clear Lake, it's some unexplainable feeling. I know some bad things have happened here, but it's a part of who I am. I can't change what happened, but I can embrace it and use the experience to become a better person."

Mom had tears in her eyes. "Where did my little Bella-Bean go?" I reached across the table to grab her hand.

"I'm still here, Mom. I've just grown up a little." I gave her a small smile, stray tears falling. "I built myself a life I enjoy here."

"You wouldn't consider moving closer to me?" She asked, hope in her voice.

"I belong here, Mom." I smiled sadly.

"Is it because of that boy?"

"He's just an added perk." I laughed. "I really like him."

"He sure is handsome. Are you being safe? Taking birth control? You know there are studies about certain medications-"

"Mom! You don't need to worry about that."

"You're too young to be a mother. You need to be taking precautions."

"Mom!" I whined, "Seriously, don't think about my sex life! That's just weird…"

"Make sure you are being safe and-"

"Seriously, Mom...Edward...he's a bit old-fashioned. You don't need to worry about any grandchildren any time soon…"

"Old fashioned? What do you mean?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but Edward said he's waiting to until marriage to have sex." I hissed, trying to appease her so we could talk about something else.

"Huh," she said, surprised. "With a face and body like that, you would think he-"

"Mom!"

"Sorry, just stating a fact." She held her hands up in surrender.

We finished our dinner in an easy banter.

After a long night of watching movies, Mom slept in until almost noon. I always woke up early, no matter how hard I tried to sleep in. In the time she was sleeping, I had washed all of the dishes from last night, harvested some tomatoes, peppers, and green beans from the garden, and I had just taken a load of laundry from the dryer.

I had also thought a lot about our conversation over dinner. I had never stood up to my Mom as I did yesterday. If I tried to voice my opinion on things, I would have usually been interrupted or grounded, if I were in high school still. I hadn't voiced all of my concerns, but yesterday was a start. I felt like our relationship was changing into something better.

I realized my Mom had been grooming me to become the perfect daughter she had envisioned. Ever since I was young, I remember being enrolled in countless extra-curricular activities against my will. Ballet, volleyball, horseback riding. Only activities Mom wanted me to do, nothing more. I expressed an interest in art and theatre, but she shot down any dreams. She would dress me, feed me, and manicure the little girl I was into someone I was not. From talking with Edward and his family, I saw how different Esme treated the family. She had such a different relationship with her children than I had with my Mom. I almost envied Alice for her "normal" relationship with her mother. Esme encouraged her to become the person she truly was.

I wonder how different my life would be if I had been raised differently. Riley, on the other hand, was free to be his own person, make his own mistakes and grow from them. Maybe that's one reason we would bicker. Even at age eight, I must have noticed how Riley and Mom's dynamics were different than hers and myself.

Mom's strict rules for me grew more ridicules after Riley's death. She monitored my friendships and rarely let me out of her sight other than for school. Even then, she volunteered at the school as much as she could so she could keep an eye on me.

Looking back, it seems involving herself deeply into every aspect of my life was part of her grieving process, a stage she still hasn't grown out of. Of course, she loves me and she thinks she knows what's best for me...what mother doesn't?

If I hadn't lived on campus during my college years, I don't think I would have any sense of true independence. I grew up quickly in those four years, trying to catch up. I made mistakes, something I had to learn from. When I moved to Clear Lake, I had no idea how to run a household and more importantly, a business. I read and read countless books on the responsibilities and management of owning and operating a business. I finally felt free then. I was learning how to take care of myself financially.

I can't hold my upbringing against my Mom. I don't want to hurt her with my realization, especially when we had that argument yesterday. Our relationship was fragile now, and I didn't want to break it beyond repair. I also can't hold her completely accountable to her actions, she still is grieving Riley, that much is obvious. She seems to forget when Riley died, so did everything normal in my life. She and Dad split, Aunt Irina was ripped from my life, I was uprooted from the only place I had called home, and most importantly, I had lost Riley.

My life changed so dramatically, and she didn't factor my ten-year-old self into the mix with her decisions. Her selfish decisions. The rose-colored glass my mother pushed my nose up against had completely shattered. I saw her differently. I saw her for the woman she was, rather than the ideal I had for her with her title as my mother.

I couldn't begin to fathom her decisions and her carelessness. Every decision she made which destroyed my perfect bubble of life was fueled by her selfishness. I felt anger and resentment sting through my veins. Years of built-up emotions flooded the surface, making me physically sway. I grabbed onto the washer to steady myself.

Mom sleepily opened her door and lowered herself to the couch as I sat on the floor of the living room folding clothes.

"Good morning, Mom. How did you sleep?" I kept my voice even.

"Oh," she yawned, "I slept just fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I could eat. Will you make your special pancakes?"

"Yeah, I guess I could."

"I miss your pancakes," she laid her head down on one of the pillows from the couch.

"Let me finish putting my clothes away, and I'll get started on brunch."

I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths in an attempt to bite back any lingering negative emotions. I wanted to change our relationship, I couldn't lose her too. I had lost so many important people in my life. I needed to forgive her.

She closed her eyes and nodded. I had just folded the last shirt and stood up to put my clothes away in their proper places. In my absence, Mom had flipped on the TV, watching the news at noon.

I entered the kitchen, pulling out all of the ingredients I needed to make brunch. Mom only thought my pancakes were special because I made them from scratch, rather than buying the premade mix or the frozen ones. Still, I was happy to make them for her.

The pancakes and sausage were ready, but I was still waiting on the scrambled eggs to finish cooking. I was quiet and focused while pushing the eggs around in the pan.

"Mmm, smells great, Bella!" Mom called from the couch.

"The eggs are finishing up and then I'm ready." I watched her carefully as she stood up from the couch, stretching and walking over to a mirror hung on the wall. She fixed her hair, pulling it into a messy bun atop her head. Her hands were on her face, examining any aging and remnants of makeup from last night. "Ready," I called to her. After my realizations, I was hyper-aware of her actions.

She strolled to the table casually, sitting down. I placed all of the food at the center of the table, complete with salt, pepper, butter, and syrup.

"Looks good, Bella," she smiled. I returned a small smile and began serving myself. "What are we doing today?" She asked, fork full of pancakes.

"I need to stop by the studio and return a few books to the library. Other than that, we can do whatever you want to do."

"I would like to get to know your sexy man," She grinned, pointing her fork at me.

"Edward is off around five thirty. I can plan something with him tomorrow if he's available." I made a mental note to call him later. I felt emotionally drained, and I needed him.

"I can't believe he's a virgin," she laughed, shaking her head. I kept quiet, not wanting to have this conversation again. "What does Edward do?"

"He just graduated med school and now he's in his first year of residency at his father's practice here."

"Sexy and smart? You've hit the jackpot." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"He's so much more. He's compassionate, kind, thoughtful, and romantic. We haven't been together for very long, but...I doubtlessly care for him." Butterflies danced in my stomach thinking about him.

"Do you love him?"

"I am falling in love with him."

"I want you to be careful, Bella. I don't want to see you get hurt." She had put down her utensils, giving me a longing look. "I've been in love too when I was young. I don't regret marrying your father because he gave me Riley and you. Now Phil and I...I would say we're in love, but our love is different than what I made love out to be when I was younger."

"I think he's it for me. I can't imagine my life without him now."

"That's dangerous," she said, shaking her head. "You can't depend on him that much, it will only get you hurt."

"He won't hurt me."

"You can't know that, Bella."

"He cares for me."

"Your father and I cared for each other too, once upon a time, we were madly in love. Now, look where we are."

"My relationship is different than yours, Mom. My life is different than yours." My voice raised slightly, my temper flaring.

"You're right, Bella," she said calmly. "If I had any say in your life, you would not be here, and you would have never met Edward."

"If you had any say in my life?" I shrieked. "You had every "say" in my life, the moment I was born. You have no idea, do you? You don't get it?"

"Isabella, watch your tone right now. You claim you're an adult, yet you continue to fail to act like one." She replied placidly, her face slipping into a mask void of emotion. I knew that face well. She would always hide behind her mask as soon as she's lost complete control.

"Whose fault is that?"

"Excuse me?" Her mask vanished for a split second, before descending upon her face once more.

"How was I to learn to be "adult" when you controlled and smothered me the way you did? You manipulated my entire life into a mold you saw fit. I get it, you have control issues ever since Riley died. You couldn't control his death, so you had to control and limit my life!" Mentioning Riley and his death destroyed her supposedly serene demeanor.

"You have no idea what it's like to lose a child, Isabella." Her lip curled.

I turned the tables and my face slid into a calm disposition. "You're right, Mom. I don't know what it's like to lose a child. I do know what it's like to lose a father, a best friend and brother, a second mother, and my home. Have you ever considered what I was going through? How your decisions affected me? I was a damn child. Your child. And yet you selfishly thought of yourself."

Mom's face contorted into a violent, enraged expression. She reached across the table and slapped my cheek fiercely. My hand flew to where she struck me in shock, my eyes wide. Tears overwhelmed my eyes. I brought my hand from my painful cheek, feeling some blood trickle over my palm, making it sticky.

I looked at my mother in a stupor. Her hands were over her mouth in a gasp, tears brimming her hazel eyes. I pushed my chair back roughly, the force making it clatter to the ground with a large bang. Hand cradling my cheek, I ran out the back door, through the garden, snatching my bike and hopping on as fast as I could in my frenzied state.

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