LITMIR.BIZ

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And I didn’t mention a word about it, I just changed the subject and hoped they’d forget.”

      Mom sighed, a world-weary, I-can’t-handle-this-any-more kind of sound. I was at a loss for words and was bone-weary about it all myself. Hiding someone else’s secret was exhausting, especially when I didn’t know what it was exactly.

      Mom’s delicate health concerned me, and I worried about what she’d do if she felt cornered, but surely it had to come out. It’s not as though the townsfolk didn’t know… They did, and they were keeping their lips pressed tight when questioned over it. And me, her own daughter, wasn’t trusted enough to confide in. It was mind-bending.

      “Mom, look. I know it’s difficult for you and I’m not trying to push you or anything, but don’t you think it’s time you told me? Cedarwood is getting busier by the day. We’ve got guests booked to stay in the lodge soon. We’ve got parties and weddings planned. I can’t keep it a secret for ever. People will stumble over it if they hike, and especially as Isla clears the grounds come spring. Don’t you think it’s better if I know what happened?” She didn’t say anything but her breathing was audibly shallow. With a soothing voice I tried a different tack. “Why don’t you come visit, and we’ll find the maze together?”

      “I never want to see it again as long as I live.” Her voice broke but I pushed on. At least she hadn’t hung up on me… not yet anyway. That had to be progress.

      “I know you don’t. But avoiding the situation isn’t working, is it? Lots of people have kept your secret, Mom, which says a lot about how people feel about you. It’s time to trust me. I am your daughter, and I do love you unconditionally.”

      The line went silent, and eventually she said so softly I could barely hear her, “I haven’t exactly been a mother to you.”

      I closed my eyes, wishing so hard that she’d just forgive herself for whatever it was. “I love you, Mom. You’ve done the best job you could. I’m home now and I want to work on our relationship, and that means we have to be honest with each other.”

      Once upon a time I couldn’t get out of town quick enough, bereft that my mom didn’t care one iota about me. I’d been ready for a new life and new friends who would eventually become my family. But I’d been young and naïve and hadn’t known that whatever had happened to Mom had shaped her future and made her turn in on herself. Now, I was ready to help her navigate whatever it was, and be there for her, without any recriminations on my part. It was the only way forward. Any grudges I’d held had evaporated a long time ago and all I cared about was that she got better.

      The faint sound of crying traveled the length of the line, and my heart just about tore in two. “Think about it, yeah, Mom? We can get through anything, me, you, and Aunt Bessie.”

      She cleared her throat, and managed to compose herself enough to say, “I’ll think about it, Clio. Will I see you for Friday night dinner?”

      “You sure will, I’m looking forward to it.” The hope in her voice told me to leave it for the time being. That she was happy to have dinner with me was enough. It was a step forward and not something I would ever take for granted.

      We hung up, and while it had been an emotional phone call, I felt like we’d finally gotten somewhere. Now I just had to tell Isla to leave the maze be for the time being; as thrilling as it would be to see it restored, we had to bide our time.

      While the sun sank behind the mountains, pitching the sky into shades of dense gray, I thought about love and loss, and what shaped our lives. Could my mom find peace? I hoped so. If I didn’t truly believe she could find peace, I wouldn’t have pushed her so. She’d been living as if she was paying a penance, obsessively cleaning, hyper alert, not interacting with people if she could avoid it. I couldn’t predict the future, but I hoped my good intentions wouldn’t backfire.

      Before I could get lost worrying, the phone rang again.

      “Cedarwood Lodge, Clio speaking.” A mumble of static greeted me.

      “Clio! It’s Georges. Sorry, the phone reception onboard is appalling.”

      From the choppy wind in the background, it sounded as though he was calling from above deck, not below. “Georges, how’s it going? I bet you’re staring into the beautiful blue of the Mediterranean!”

      He let out a deep belly chuckle. “Sort of. I’m bracing myself for another storm actually. With the pitching of the vessel, I’m quite nauseous all the time…”

      Poor Georges. Even though he’d left us in the lurch when he’d run off to be an onboard chef for a celebrity’s cruise ship, I’d never be able to be angry at him – and look how well it had turned out! I was surprised, though, at the tone of his voice. He was quite plaintive, which was unusual for him. “You just have to develop your sea legs, Georges. All great adventures have their downsides, so I’m sure it’s only temporary,” I reassured him. “Soon, you’ll be screeching you’re the king of the world at the bow, or whatever that pointy front bit is called.”

      He laughed, but it was hollow. “Yes, yes, you’re probably right. I just have to get acclimatized. It’s just a matter of becoming one with the sea, the beast that it is.”

      “That’s the spirit, Georges!”

      “Did you find a new chef? I’m so sorry to have left you in such a bind, Clio. You know I could always come back… if you insisted.”

      Oh, Georges! I suddenly understood his phone call. “Well, we were lucky actually, Georges, and we managed to hire Cruz as a part-time chef until he figures out his new direction. I’m hoping, though, that we’ll be busy enough and give him enough creative freedom that he’ll stay on for good. I am sorry, Georges. But really, I just think you’re a little homesick. If you give it a chance, this will be the best thing you ever did.”

      I could empathize with Georges. I’d felt the same when I’d first arrived in New York. A country girl suddenly thrust into the big city, blinded by bright lights, fast talkers, and so much traffic. But each day had got a little better until I’d become one of those subway-catching, cosmopolitan-drinking locals, snatching every minute of the day to do things I’d never tried before. And it had been so worth it. Worth the nights I’d cried into my pillow, the mornings I’d been fuzzy with confusion, lonely among so many people. It was a learning curve, and when you’d done it once you could do it again, quicker, braver.

      “Thanks, Clio. I know you’re right. I do. It’s just so different, but that’s what I wanted, right? To be busy, to not spend every waking minute worrying about making enough money.”

      “Now you’ll have money to burn, Georges! And when you have your days off, think of the places you’ll see! Sailing around the world on someone else’s dime is nothing to sneeze at.”

      It was like I could hear the cogs in his brain whirr as he warmed to the idea. “Yeah, not many people get to travel the world and get paid to do it. It was nice talking to you, Clio. Keep in touch, yeah?”

      I smiled. “Send us postcards at every exotic port of call.”

      “Will do,” he said jovially. “Give my love to everyone.”

      Just then I heard the pitter patter of tiny feet and that could only mean one thing. Trouble. “Where are you, you little varmint!” I said jokingly, watching as the fluffy ball of fur heavy-breathed his way under my desk. I bent on hands and knees to grab him before he used my antique handwoven rug as his personal toilet or nibbled on one of my spare pairs of high heels, tossed under there in case of surprise customer arrivals.

      I scrabbled for him, darting a hand and grabbing air. I huffed.

      “What on earth are you doing, darling? Is that one of your yoga moves?”

      I started and smashed my head into the top of the desk as I tried to retreat, realizing it probably wasn’t my best angle, rump in the air, jiggling around for the world to witness. The little fur ball barreled backwards out of sight,

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