Part 29 (2/2)

Ben had met Bill through his work, since Bill was a contractor. But it was Bill's sister, Laura, who had been begging Erva to come into her beauty shop for a makeover.

”Definitely need new hair and makeup.” She nodded.

Bill grabbed his cell from his back pocket. ”Laura will scream when I tell her. She loves how long your hair is, how light it is, perfect for what she wants to do with it. Are you really going to let her?”

If she weren't bleeding inside, Erva thought, she just might be happy right now. The odd thing was thanks to meeting Will she no longer felt hopelessly lost in a world stacked up against her. She was in charge of her own life now. And that felt d.a.m.ned good.

She nodded to Bill, and he started to dial his sister.

As soon as Erva got her apartment in order, new hair, and kicked Dr. Peabody's a.s.s, she would melt into her bed and cry. Mayhap cry for the rest of her life.

But it didn't work out like that. Erva cried while her hair was processed with the new color, during decisions about her new sheets, and the color of the walls. Thank G.o.d, Bill and Ben got used to it within a day's time. She knew she couldn't say anything to either one of them about going back in time. But she did tell them that she'd met someone, someone she'd fallen for. She'd fallen so hard she'd thought about fairy tales, and happily ever after, but especially of love. It hadn't worked out, was all she could say at the end of her story. Ben and Bill gave her a knowing look and let her cry, let her carry on as if it were the end of the world.

Eventually, she turned on her Mac and sat down behind the screen. After a breath, she found the words came so easy. They weren't about Will, not yet. That's probably why it was so effortless. But the words uncovered the mask she'd worn for so many years. She wrote of having a break down, of sorts. How she'd lived a life where she struggled and hustled to ensure she was good enough. How she'd taken over her supervisor's cla.s.ses without complaint, yet silently resented the h.e.l.l out of anyone attached to the university, because it reminded her of submitting and feeling hopeless.

She'd lived an odd dichotomy, realizing she'd been in a hailstorm of bullets in Afghanistan, tucked close to Green Berets who tried everything they could to protect her. But she hadn't protected herself from the threat of never allowing herself happiness, the happiness of feeling worthy.

One reason why she loved history was finding perfect examples of courage-as in the Latin meaning of the word, ”to speak from the heart.” Granted, her Will hadn't said what he wanted to in Parliament, but actions sometimes convey what the heart wants more than anything else. The man had blown apart a slaving station in Africa as one of his first acts of courage, and as Erva knew, it wasn't his last. And he'd thought her worthy of love. Him. A beautiful specimen of courage. It humbled her, but made her realize she was worthy, she was lovable.

On Friday, a large box with fat lettering ”Fragile” all over it came to her apartment while Ben and Bill's crew worked in a fury. It was from the Cresting Estate and a complete mystery to her. Erva waited until the crew left, not wanting any dust on what looked like a valuable container. After gingerly opening the box, she read how the Cresting Estate had been Will's English manor. Her stomach hollowed, and she had to hold the parcel away from her body as tears splashed down and threatened the precious cargo. Since Erva was the leading scholar regarding Lord General William Hill, the current owner thought she should have a batch of letters recently discovered. They were from Emma to Will. Erva's heart shattered when discovering Emma had written to Will posthumously, wis.h.i.+ng she'd gotten to know her half-brother better.

Her phone rang, interrupting her before she could finish reading the letters.

She cleared her throat before answering, checking the caller ID, which registered somewhere in Virginia.

”h.e.l.lo?”

Silence for a long time, before Erva heard her mother dramatically take a deep breath. G.o.d, she didn't have time for this. But why was her mom down in Virginia? She currently lived in California. Or had she moved again, since she prided herself as being a vagabond on the hunt for eligible rich bachelors?

”h.e.l.lo, sweetie. It's so nice to hear your voice.”

Erva thought for a moment of what she could say. She was never sure when her mother would say such things anyway, usually prefacing her need for more money by fake saccharinity.

”I-sweetie, you still there?”

”Yeah, Mom, I'm in the middle of something-”

”Oh, I-uh, well, I don't want to take any of your precious time,” Judith snapped.

Then Erva heard a soothing voice in the background say something to the effect that it would have been polite to have asked whether it was convenient to talk or not. Erva's mom muttered something while covering up the phone.

Suddenly she was back on. ”Sorry, sweetie. Sorry for my tone.”

Now this was new. An apology. And Erva had no clue what to do. Again.

”Erva, I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time. I need to say a few things. At the least it might take about five minutes.”

Erva again heard a male voice coolly say, ”good,” to her mother.

”Mom, what's going on? Who's talking in the background?”

”She wants to know who's talking in the background. Do I tell her?”

Erva heard the voice say, ”Yes, Judith, tell her. Remember honesty.”

”Oh, well, Erva, I'm calling you from a rehab place in Virginia and the man in the background is my therapist. I-ah, well, it's the weirdest thing. I met this tall, auburn-haired gal, told her I wanted her hair color, and the next thing I know I'm here.”

”Rehab? Why are you in rehab? Are you addicted to something?” Erva felt a pang of guilt for not knowing and not taking care of her mother.

”I-well, no. Turns out, I was faking trying to be an alcoholic. You know me, I don't really like the taste of it. But I wanted to go to rehab, and after talking with my therapist and the admin guys, they've allowed me to stay here.”

”What? What the h.e.l.l is going on, Mom?”

”She's getting belligerent,” Judith said to her therapist, but clearly wanted Erva to hear too since she didn't cover the receiver.

”Judith, I don't hear belligerence in your daughter's tone. I hear concern. And maybe frustration. Maybe you could tell her why you want to be here to help clear things up for her?”

Whoever her mother's therapist was Erva wanted to kiss at that moment, especially when she heard her mother give in to the man's suggestions.

”Oh, all right. But it's so embarra.s.sing. So much for my pride, huh?” Judith then spoke more clearly into the phone. ”Erva, I wanted to go to rehab because I wanted to...I wanted the attention. But when I got here, well, it got hard. I don't drink, but I do have problems. Then my therapist tells me I can stay here, but I have to get treatment for my Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He has me even read the label from the book. So I have to agree that I am a Narcissist, the clinical kind, and I have to go through the hoops of the Twelve Steps. So I'm calling to make amends with you. I'm calling to let you know I have this Narcissist thing, and that makes me-”

”No, Judith,” Erva heard over the line. ”Remember, the language. Try not to say 'makes me' but rather 'I feel.' Also, Judith, you don't have to jump through any hoops. You are free to go whenever you choose.”

Erva decided she would find whoever her mother's therapist was, and she wouldn't hypothetically give him the world's largest kiss and hug. She would do it. This man was putting down strong boundaries, and it was amazing to hear someone do that to her mother. Not even her own father had been capable of being firm with Judith. And now Erva was getting a lesson on how to do it too. It gave her even more hope as she heard her mother grumble but give in.

”Minerva, are you still there?”

”Yeah, Mom. I'm here.”

”You heard my therapist?”

”Yes. He sounds wonderful.”

Judith laughed. ”Of course, you'd think that.” The tone was once more bitter and biting.

Erva shook her head, feeling her mother stab at her heart again. She was so tired of being snapped at and blamed for Judith's behavior. Although Judith wasn't currently blaming, Erva knew that it would soon come. She was so tired of all of it. And she didn't have to deal with it anymore. ”Mom, I gotta go.”

”I'm sorry.”

”Thanks.”

”Erva,” Judith said in a panic. ”I'm so sorry. I lied to you. I lied about so much.”

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