Of course, my daughter spots her and insists on going to her. Celeste’s eyes widen when she realizes Skyla is heading her way, telling me, while she wanted to be here for us, she wasn’t sure if she was going to make her presence known. “Celeste, you’re here,” Sky says softly.
“I am. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Celeste points to her mom, who is standing next to her with a sympathetic smile on her lips. “This is my mom, Beatrice. Mom, this is Skyla and her dad, Jase.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say politely.
“How are you?” Celeste asks Skyla. I feel my siblings come up behind us, and without even looking to confirm, I can feel the anger radiating off Quinn as she glares at Celeste.
“Quinn, chill,” I murmur, not wanting a scene to be made right here in the church.
“I’m okay,” Skyla says to Celeste. “But…my mom died, and…I haven’t cried.” Skyla looks down in shame.
“Oh, hey,” Celeste murmurs, pulling my daughter into her arms. “It’s okay. Not everyone cries when they’re sad.”
“Do you?” Skyla asks.
“Sometimes, but other times I just get quiet, or I work a lot. Some of my best work was done while I was sad. And sometimes when I’m really sad, I feel like I can’t cry. My throat burns and my stomach hurts but the tears just won’t come.”
“That’s how I feel,” Skyla says. “My stomach hurts.” My heart hurts for my daughter. No kid her age should ever have to bury their mother, but Skyla’s situation is even worse because the only Amaya she’s ever known has been the one laying in a coma in a hospital. She has no good memories, no photos of the two of them smiling. She’s trying to mourn for a woman she never really knew.
“We better get going,” I tell Sky. “Everyone has already left for the cemetery.”
“Okay,” she says, then gives Celeste a hug. “Will you come with me?”
“Umm…well…” Celeste bites down on her bottom lip, unsure of what to say. If she’s waiting for me to tell her to join us, she’ll be waiting forever.
“The burial is really just for family,” I tell Sky. Then, without giving Celeste a second glance, I take my daughter’s hand and walk out of the church.
Twenty-Three
Celeste
“Are you okay?” my mom asks once we get into our car. The entire flight I was quiet, using my laptop as a shield to keep my mom from asking me any questions. It worked because even though she gave me a couple sympathetic glances, she didn’t press me to talk. Now, though, the laptop is gone, my shield removed, and she’s ready to talk.
“I made a mistake,” I blurt out, then close my eyes. I don’t want to discuss this with my mom. She’s too fragile, too delicate. Having this conversation would mean telling her that in a lot of ways I blame my childhood for the way I am, and I don’t want to make her feel bad.
“Going to the funeral was not a mistake,” she says, misunderstanding what I meant.
“No, running away.”
We’re both silent for the rest of the ride. When we pull up, Mr. Walters, the concierge in my building, helps us with our bags and to the elevator. The silence continues until we’re inside. I’m about to head to my room to get settled when my mom’s hand lands on my wrist to stop me.
“We never finished our conversation the other day, Celeste. When you showed up at the trailer and told me you ran because Skyla called you Mom.”
Taking a deep breath, I shrug, unsure what to say. The last thing I want to do is hurt my mom’s feelings. She guides me over to the couch and sits down, patting the cushion for me to join.
“When I found out I was pregnant with you, I was beyond ecstatic.” I try to school my features not to look shocked, but I must do a shitty job because she laughs humorlessly and says, “I know, you would never know it.”
“No, Mom…it’s not that.”
“Don’t you dare make excuses for me.” She gives me a pointed look. “The entire time I was pregnant, after Snake left, I stayed positive. I focused on making the trailer a home. I decorated the nursery with pink.” She shakes her head like she’s remembering that time in her life. “When you were born, reality hit,” she says with a frown. “The money Snake left me ran out and I had to keep working at the diner. I was running on empty with a broken heart. Month after month, the chance of him returning, dwindled. Back then there wasn’t the internet like there is today. It was harder to find someone, especially since I only knew so much. Victoria helped me out by allowing you to hang out with Nick and his nanny, but I felt like I was drowning. My heart shattered more and more every day, and instead of holding onto the one person in the world who loved me, I pushed you away. I saw the black of his eyes in yours, the straightness of your hair. Your button nose was identical to his.”