Not My Mother by Miranda Smith (lightweight ebook reader .txt) 📕

“I know. I love it here. The beach. The people.” Although the community has certainly had better days. I try not to think about how quickly we’ve been shunned as outcasts. “Where is it you’re staying again?”

“Emerald Shores Resort,” she says, picking up a sandwich. “It’s one of the biggest ones here.”

“Yeah, it is. I know the hotel manager.”

That’s Holly Dale’s hotel. I didn’t realize Amelia was staying there, and I find it odd Holly hasn’t mentioned it in all the times she’s tried contacting me this week. She’s usually on the gossip frontlines, and I’m sure she’s been eating up every detail of the Baby Caroline saga since Mom’s arrest. Des told me she’s been reaching out, claiming to want to know about this summer’s advertising, but I wonder if she’s simply on a hunt for more information. I make a mental note to get in touch with her.

“And what about you?” Amelia asks, after taking a bite of her sandwich. “I’d like to hear more about your life, if you feel comfortable.”

I clear my throat. Amelia has certainly shared more than I have, but that’s only because I hate rubbing my own life in her face. It was a good one, even if I was never meant to have it.

“You know, I grew up in North Bay. Lived here my entire life, except for when I went to college.”

I tell her some memorable moments from that time, stories I imagine most mothers would want to hear from their daughters. Stories Eileen already knows. I tell her about my role as a small business owner, what it’s like working with customers on a daily basis. And I tell her about Ava, memorable stories from her first year.

She smiles and nods along, and in some ways, with each shared experience we’re becoming less like strangers.

“And what about Ava’s father?” Amelia looks at Ava, then me. I can tell she’s hoping she hasn’t overstepped. “Is he in the picture?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t see the article in the New Hutton Star?”

Amelia narrows her eyes and shakes her head. “You’ll have to forgive me. The media has left me jaded over the years.”

“I’m a single parent by choice,” I explain. “Ava was conceived through artificial insemination, so there’s no father in the picture. I prefer it that way, really. Even in this day and age, it’s hard for some to accept. People always say it takes two people to make a baby, but that’s not really true anymore.”

“That took a lot of bravery, making the decision to become a parent on your own.”

“It did.” I straighten my posture, a subconscious tic. “I was at a point in my life where I felt secure, and I was tired of waiting. I knew I wanted to be a mother, but, unfortunately, we don’t always have as much time as we should to make that decision.”

“I understand completely.” Amelia purses her lips. “Women have more options now than they did in the eighties. You were just starting to hear about all those things that are commonplace now. In vitro. Sperm donation. Surrogacy. I always wonder if we might have explored those options. If we’d had more time.”

It feels like I’m holding my breath again, watching her speak. Unfortunate timing. Not just for us, but for so many women then, who didn’t have the medical marvels we do now. I look at Ava, fully grasping the painful reality that I might not have her if this were a different decade.

“I know I’m lucky. Some people may not see it that way. Being a single parent certainly has its challenges, but I hated the idea of waiting around and missing out on this experience.”

“It’s certainly one that shouldn’t be taken for granted.” Amelia looks at Ava, then me. “What does this have to do with the newspaper again?”

I exhale. “Someone wrote an article about us. They’re trying to spin this whole Baby Caroline is a mommy angle. The decision I made comes with judgments, I just didn’t expect for it to happen on such a large scale.”

“I’m so sorry, Marion. The media has been a thorn in my side for years. I wish I could have protected you.”

“I shouldn’t even be bothering you with this—”

“Please.” Amelia raises her hand. “Don’t feel you have to hold back on account of me. There are so few people that understand what it’s like to be in our situation. To be at the center of such a salacious tragedy. People read about it and write about it and watch the specials on television. We live it. Sometimes the only way to make sense of it is to lean on each other.”

“I guess I just feel like you’ve been through enough.”

“Whether it’s a week of your life or three decades, it doesn’t get easier. Don’t worry about tiptoeing around my feelings.”

“You’re right about no one else understanding. And I feel guilty about Ava being brought into any of this. Someone close to me must have talked to the paper, so it makes it feel like my fault.” I prop my elbows on the table, letting my head dangle between them. “And then there’s the business. I’ve worked my entire adult life to try and turn The Shack into a profitable restaurant. Now all that’s about to go under.”

“How so?”

“The police left a lot of damage after their search. We had to dip into our savings before reopening. And business has been at a standstill since the arrest. People are wanting to distance themselves from Eileen and The Shack—which I understand completely,” I say, careful to let Amelia know that I’m not complaining about Eileen’s treatment. “That doesn’t change the fact that this is my livelihood. It’s the only business I’ve ever known, and if I lose it, I’m not sure where I’ll go from here.”

“I’m sorry you’re losing so much. It’s not fair.”

“At least