Linda laughed.
“You’ve been keeping score?”
“No.”
“Riley has.”
Carol turned toward her niece.
“Even when she doesn’t realize it.”
Riley stared.
She had forgotten some of those things.
Or buried them.
Linda looked toward Riley.
“So this is about Jason?”
“No.”
Riley shook her head.
“This is about you deciding my time matters less because my life looks different.”
“I don’t have children.”
“I’m not married.”
“I work from home.”
“So somewhere along the way, you decided my obligations were optional.”
Linda’s eyes filled.
“I worried about you.”
Riley stopped.
“What?”
Linda looked down.
“You were thirty-one.”
“Single.”
“Always working.”
“You never seemed to need anyone.”
Riley stared.
“That made you volunteer me for childcare?”
“I thought…”
Linda struggled.
“I thought being around the children was good for you.”
The room became silent.
Riley almost could not believe what she heard.
“Good for me.”
“Yes.”
“In what way?”
Linda swallowed.
“You always said you weren’t sure about having children.”
“Oh my God.”
“I thought maybe—”
“You were using Jason’s children as some kind of motherhood trial?”
“I did not say that.”
“You just did.”
Linda’s face reddened.
“I wanted you connected to family.”
“I am connected to family.”
“Not the way you used to be.”
Riley sat back.
There it was.
Beneath entitlement.
Fear.
Control.
Maybe even love distorted into something suffocating.
Linda continued.
“You built this life where you don’t need anybody.”
“You travel.”
“You work.”
“You make your own money.”
“You leave whenever you want.”
“You say no.”
Her voice cracked on the last word.
Riley understood something.
Linda did not resent the word no because it inconvenienced her.
She feared what it represented.
Riley had become a person Linda could not direct.
Riley spoke softly.
“Mom.”
Linda looked at her.
“Independence is not rejection.”
Linda started crying.
Riley continued.
“But if the only way I can prove I love you is by giving you access to my time whenever you demand it, then that isn’t closeness.”
“That’s control.”
Linda wiped her face.
“I am your mother.”
“I know.”
“I should not have to make appointments to see my daughter.”
“You don’t.”
“But you do have to ask before using my home.”
Linda flinched.
The emergency key.
Riley continued.
“And you have to ask before promising my time to other people.”
“That is not negotiable anymore.”
Linda looked away.
“What happens if there is a real emergency?”
“Call me.”
“What if you don’t answer?”