Page 102 of One Week in Paris
This is so damn hard, but I plow on. “Well, anyway, when Corrie told me Mark had a… reputation, I wanted to see it for myself. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but first, I had to make sure.”
Her face falls… she knows what I’m talking about.
“I had to do something. I couldn’t let you marry the jerk. I knew he’d break your heart.”
Her eyes grow wide, but she doesn’t utter a word. I’ve apparently rendered her speechless.
“Corrie and I and Matt all got together and devised a plan. Matt knew this woman in Paris… Nicole.”
“Nicole,” she says quietly, not quite believing my words. “The one who was giving… the one who was with him when I caught him?”
I nod. “Yes, Mom. Nicole was a set-up. We set him up.”
“You what?” she asks, completely confused.
“We arranged for Nicole to seduce him, and for you to catch him in the act. I knew you’d never believe it if you didn’t see it with your own eyes. You had rose colored glasses on.”
Her jaw is on the floor, and she can’t seem to look at me. “You… you did this. The sweater… you didn’t need a sweater. You just wanted me to catch my fiancé with his pants down.”
“Well, it was the only way—”
“I can’t believe you, Kayla,” she scoffs, her eyes brimming. “I can’t believe you would do this.”
God, she’s hurt. “Mom, the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I was trying tosaveyou. From that scoundrel.”
She’s crying now — she’s a slobbering mess. “I can’t look at you right now. I just can’t.” She’s completely flustered as she digs into her purse. Her hands tremble as she slaps money on the table. “I better leave since I can’t stand to look at you right now.”
And with those words, she grabs her jacket and dashes off. I want to run after her, but I can’t leave because I’m not sure she’s left enough money to cover both our meals. And besides, I know my mother — I know it would be pointless. When she’s upset, there’s no turning her around. She’s pig-headed that way.
How did this happen? How did I manage to ruin our last days together in Paris? I should have never told her.
Mothers & Daughters
One of the most important relationships we have is the relationship we have with our mothers.—Iyanla Vanzant
We startoff as a microscopic egg inside their wombs, we grow inside them, into fully formed human beings. Mothers carry us for nine months and birth us. For some, mothers choose us, choose to make our lives beautiful when they decide to adopt us. Mothers care for us, feed us, teach us, and love us. Mothers are magicians.
Our relationship with our mother should be the closest relationship we have. But for most women, that’s not the case. As we grow older, so does the distance between us. As soon as we leave their wombs, we take a step away from them. The first day of school, we take another step. The last time we are picked up in their arms is yet another step. The first fight we have pulls us further away. The independence we gain as teenagers expands the distance even further, and when we go off to college, we take a giant leap away from them.
When we fall in love, a part of our heart is divided. Our lives become too busy for them; career, friends, relationships and hobbies and passions. Ironically, the mother who has raised her daughter well, who has loved and encouraged her to be strong and confident will lose her more easily, for that daughter will be successful, will love easily, and will live life to the fullest. When we have our own children, we are often too busy for our mothers.
Mothers and daughters often don’t see eye to eye. Women are emotional creatures, and especially if a daughter has inherited her mother’s stubbornness. Despite the conflicts, ill-spoken words, the fights and silent treatments, mothers and daughters will always love each other.
I’ve been lucky to always have had a wonderful relationship with my mother. She and my sister were all I had when I was growing up. My mother helped me deal with my father’s abandonment — we were all abandoned, the three of us. The three musketeers, Mom used to call us. She was strong for us. She led by example. Who needs a man anyway?
When I was bullied, she was always there for me. She made sure that I wouldn’t forget that who I was inside was more important than what was outside. She never failed to remind me that I was beautiful.
She took care of me.
But there comes a time in the daughter-mother relationship when roles reverse. The daughter starts looking out for the mother, helping her out with advice, tasks at home, errands, and health problems. My time has come — it’s my turn to take care of her and look out for her. My mom has always been a little naive and whimsical — it’s one of the things I love about her. She sees the world with rose colored glasses. And sometimes she gets in a pickle because of it — trusting too much, shopping too much, doing crazy things she really shouldn’t. She’s been swindled, hurt, and debt-ridden. I’ve been there for her through all that, and that’s not about to change.
As deceitful as it was, I did what I did because I love her and I’m looking out for her.
Just like she looked out for me.
