Tears prick my eyes and I blink, shutting off my past. I dig in my purse for my cell phone when I notice something crinkly blocking my path. My hand reaches in to find a jumbo package of Red Vines licorice with a handwritten note card: Twizzlers suck.

“HA!” I laugh and realize once again Matt’s uncanny ability to make me smile just when I need it most. Veering the car over to the side of the road, I rip open the package and bite off a small chunk that is noticeably firmer in texture and not as sweet as my favorite addiction, immediately bringing me to the conclusion that Twizzlers are still the best. I reach for my cell phone and send a quick text to Matt.


Thanks for the Red Vines. They still suck in comparison.


I get an immediate response.


Your taste buds are obviously off, and I hope you’re not driving and texting.


I type back.


No, pulled over to sample the sucky licorice.


His reply.


Ha, ha. Good. Have fun with your mom.


I don’t really have a smart comeback for that one so instead I text Mom and let her know I’m on my way.

* * *

I steer my luxurious ride into the parking lot of the Santa Barbara Shellfish Company, a weathered little restaurant nestled across from the sprawling blue ocean. The atmosphere is laid back and unpretentious just like Mom, with old oak tables, worn leather chairs, and pictures of fishermen catching lobsters scattered along the walls. A young girl with a t-shirt bearing the restaurant name greets me when I walk in.

“Hi, welcome to Santa Barbara Shellfish.”

Mom sees me instantly and springs up from her chair. Warmth spreads through me at the sight of her, mixed with a twist of sadness at her haggard appearance. She wastes no time, embracing me in her arms lovingly, holding me as only a mother can hold her child.

“Mom,” I whisper, my head nuzzled in her neck, breathing in that inexpensive fruity perfume she’s worn since I was a little girl. Some things never change.

“Baby,” she chokes out, and she’s already crying. “I’m so happy to see you. Let me look at you.”

She grasps my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length, and as she’s perusing my appearance, I’m doing the same. With her dark tresses, sculptured cheekbones, and light green eyes, we are the mirror image of one another. As I take in her presence though, I notice the creases surrounding her eyes, the sag of her clothes, and the gray in her hair. She looks much older than the last time I saw her and it causes a dull ache in my chest.

“You look wonderful, sweetie,” she says, her eyes brimming with pride. “Come, let’s sit.”

We grab a table by the window with a great view of the ocean. This was the perfect place for us to meet. She and I are very similar in that neither of us likes pretention. I may have a love for expensive things, but it doesn’t define me and I don’t flaunt it.

She reaches for my hand with a soft smile. “I’m so glad I got this chance to see you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot and decided we need to try to see each other more often. I love our phone calls but it’s not enough, you know?”

“I’d like that….” I pause, letting the warmth of her aura wash over me. “You look tired, Mom. Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course, sweetie. I’m just working a lot of hours at the salon and picking up some additional shifts at the restaurant to make extra money.” She takes a sip of one of the waters the waitress left for us. “I’m fine, though. Really I am.”

I hand her a menu and open one for myself. “So how long are you staying at Vivian’s?”

“Just until Sunday. Then I’m going back home. How is this conference of yours going and more importantly, how are you enjoying your new position as design manager?”

I close the menu, already knowing that I want the lobster. It’s kind of a no-brainer for me. “It’s good. I’m liking it a lot. The only part I don’t like, as you know, is the travel. But I managed to get through the flight okay, and the trip is going really well.”

“What was that?” she asks, a smile curving up one side of her mouth. “That little twinkle I see in your eye?”

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t ‘Mom, what are you talking about’ me. What’s responsible for that twinkle, or should I say who?” She taps her fingers on the table waiting for an answer.

“You’d never even believe it if I told you, Mom,” I offer, having a hard time believing it myself.

“Try me,” she replies, removing her hand from mine, crossing her arms and leaning into the table with interest.

“So I ran into someone at the conference. Someone who is Brad’s brother,” I say, trying to wipe the ridiculous smile off my face while I’m speaking, which is utterly impossible.

“Brad as in Gabby’s Brad?” she asks, and I can see the wheels spinning as she tries to put two and two together.

“Yes, that one. Well….” I let out a happy sigh. “I ran into him at the conference and we’ve been spending quite a bit of time together. I like him…a lot. Although.…” I know I’m starting to babble. “I’m leaving next week, so we’re just having some fun and enjoying each other’s company. It’s nothing serious because we don’t even live near one another and well, that’s that, really.”

She presses a finger to her mouth with a smirk while she nods her head, the words continuing to tumble endlessly from my lips.

“So that’s it. It’s nothing really, but he’s a nice guy and he’s…really changed my perspective in some ways.”

“Hmph,” she replies, “yes, it sounds like you really like this boy.”

“Mom, he’s not a boy, he’s a man,” I say, a fact I’m fully cognizant of, and my skin tingles with that awareness.

“Well, I’m delighted, honey. It seems like you might finally be ready to move on from Kyle, and while I know that was difficult for you, it’s time. You deserve to be happy.”

“So do you, Mom.”

The waitress comes over to take our order and we make it very simple for her by both ordering the lobster special with extra melted butter on the side. We hand her our menus and she walks away.

“Fran, I’m just fine. Work keeps me very busy and when I have time I see my friends.”

Another waitress stops by to place a basket of bread with squares of butter in the center of the table. I reach over to break off two pieces of bread, handing one to Mom first.

“Still the carbohydrate queen,” she teases, and I laugh at the truth in her statement. Give me pasta, bread, or rice any day of the week and I’m a happy girl.

“Mom,” I begin, wanting to gather my thoughts together so my words come out right, “I—”

“Oh!” she interrupts, “I almost forgot!” She reaches for her purse on the chair and digs through it for something, a huge smile appearing once she’s found it. “So my friend Vivian likes those knick-knack things and I was in the basement the other day going through one of the boxes and putting some aside for her when I came across something I thought you might like to have.” She pushes a zip lock bag across the table that’s filled with tissue paper. “Open it.”

I pull open the bag with both excitement and curiosity, taking a quick glance at her face but she gives nothing away. As I rip the tissue paper apart, something gold and shiny falls out and my green eyes fly up to the twin pair across the table. A lump forms in my throat and I close my eyes that are now filling with tears. She lays her hand on my arm as I clutch the precious object firmly to my chest, and the memory comes rushing back.

I turned nine years old today and I got to be with Mommy. She didn’t work tonight so we could celebrate with my favorite chocolate cake and fudge ripple ice cream. Daddy wasn’t there when I blew out my candles because he was snoring on the couch and he smelled really bad so I didn’t want him anywhere near my cake.

After I blew out my candles, I made a wish that Mommy would never leave me again, that she would stay with me and Daddy would be the one to go away.

She let me have two pieces of cake and three scoops of ice cream, and she let me finger paint with my ice cream when I was done. I kept leaping off my seat like we did at my friend Tina’s birthday party when we played musical chairs, peeking out to make sure Daddy was still sleeping. He would’ve been mad at us if he had seen the mess we were making. I didn’t like it when Daddy got mad.

“I have something for you,” she whispered, taking a small pink box with a matching bow from her purse and I perked up in my chair.

“Yay! A present! I love presents, Mommy!” I tried to keep my voice down because I didn’t want to wake up Daddy.

“Of course, baby,” she said with her pretty smile and her big green eyes. “It’s something special for my sweet girl. Go ahead, open it.”

I untied the bow and popped open the top of the box. Inside was a gold necklace with half of a gold heart hanging from a chain. “It’s so pretty, Mommy. But…where is the other half?”

“Right here,” she said, scooping her shiny, dark hair away from her neck.

I opened my mouth and a strange sound came out. “Mommy, you’ve got a half, too,” I said, so excited that Mommy also got a special necklace. “If we put them together we can have one big heart, Mommy!”

“That’s right, sweet girl. You see, you’re the other half of my heart, so even when I’m not right next to you, you’re always with me…and I’m always with you.”

“Oh, Mommy,” I cried, tears mixing with the chocolate on my cheeks while Mommy came over and hugged me so tight, I felt the other half of the heart beating underneath me. “I love it, Mommy. Can you put it on me, please?”

“Sure, baby,” she said, and she lifted my messy nest of hair and clasped it around my neck before letting it fall back over my shoulders.

“It’s so pretty, Mommy.”

“Just like you.” She looked over at me, smiling at the frosting in my hair and globs of ice cream on my pink shirt. “We need to go get you clean so you can be ready for school tomorrow.”

I hopped off my chair and ice cream dripped onto the floor as I looked around the corner into the living room. My tummy started to hurt and I felt like I might throw up. “Daddy likes to get my baths ready,” I told Mommy.

“Daddy is sleeping, sweetie, and you need to get clean. Come on.” She pulled on my little hand and I went with her, but I knew soon that I was going to be in big trouble with Daddy, and when we reached the bathroom, I started shaking.

I stood in the corner pressed against the wall while Mommy filled the bathtub up with water and strawberry bubbles.

When it was half-full she turned around to me. “Come here, Fran. Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes.”

“No. I can do it myself, Mommy.”

My heart started beating very fast and I wanted to run away, but I didn’t move because it felt like my feet were stuck in mud, and my fingers and toes felt weird, like someone was tickling me but I couldn’t laugh.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Mommy asked, and when I didn’t move she crawled over and kneeled in front of me. “You’re crying. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I couldn’t answer her because I wasn’t supposed to tell and now I wasn’t only scared for me, I was scared for Mommy, too. I just stood there shaking my head as Mommy wiped away my tears with her soft fingers.

“Let’s get you undressed. I think a nice, warm bath will make you feel better.”

I stared at the dust flying around the room and wouldn’t look at her as she lifted my shirt up, and that’s when I heard a scary sound come from Mommy’s mouth. It sounded like she had sucked in a big gulp of air or something and I knew she saw what Daddy did to me.

I felt her fingers touching my belly and it hurt because some of my boo boos were new but the band-aids had fallen off.

Mommy held my face and started crying hard. “Dear God, F-Fran…w-who did this t-to you?”

When I didn’t answer, she took my shoulders and shook me but it didn’t hurt. Mommy would never hurt me. “Baby, you need to answer me. Tell Mommy who did this to you.”

My eyes filled with more tears and I sniffled and wiped my nose with my finger…and then I whispered, “I can’t tell you, Mommy. I don’t want to get in trouble.”