The Heart That's Meant to Love You

Chapter 91: Revisit

You can do this, Naomi. You're free. What she says doesn't matter. Those were the things that Naomi told herself, standing before the door to her mother's condo. The truth was, what Ms. Rowe said mattered far more than Naomi wanted it to. They were family. Family should stick together, but hers had fallen apart.

The sad thing was that Naomi couldn't pinpoint a time and place where the falling apart had begun.

If she were lucky, Ms. Rowe wouldn't be home. Then she could say that she tried to communicate, but failed. She could leave with the end of her things and never look back.

But a relationship like that couldn't last. Whatever had happened, Ms. Rowe was still Naomi's only family.

Knowing she would only fan the flames if she barged in unannounced, Naomi rang the doorbell and waited for the response.

The new housekeeper came to answer, frowning only a little when she saw Naomi standing outside the door. "Ms. Naomi."

"Is my mother here?" Naomi said the words before she could talk herself out of it. Her mother deserved, at least, to know what Naomi had chosen to do with her life.

The housekeeper nodded and took a step back. "Come in."

Never before had Naomi hesitated to cross the threshold into her own home. But, then, it wasn't her home any longer. Since the day she chose to leave, it had become a stranger's house. Naomi doubted that she would ever feel at home in Ms. Rowe's house again.

Instinct kicked in, allowing Naomi a moment of peace as she slipped out of her boots and into a pair of house slippers.

Unfortunately, that was the end of her reprieve.

"What in heaven's name are you wearing?" Her mother's voice, tired and yet still so stubborn, floated on the air like a chemical weapon.

Naomi glanced down at her jeans and sport's jacket. So far a cry from what she had been told to wear growing up, yet something so normal for most people.

"I'm dressing my age," Naomi explained, as simply and politely as she could manage.

"Ah. Yes. The ignorance of youth." Ms. Rowe gave a single nod. "Why are you here? To beg forgiveness? Is the rebellious phase past us now?"

Naomi smiled wryly. "I'm here to get the rest of my things."

"Now isn't the time to be stubborn, Naomi."

"I'm not being stubborn. I'm setting myself free." A sigh didn't begin to describe the anguish in Naomi's soul. "I've been offered an internship. My flight leaves tomorrow."

Naomi wished she could skip the conversation altogether, but Ms. Rowe stood in the doorway, unwilling to allow Naomi to pass into her room. Even if she could have brushed her mother off, the politeness instilled in Naomi since infancy wouldn't have allowed her to be so rude.

"We had everything so nicely planned out. What kind of internship did you find for yourself? It can't be the best."

"It's what I want to do." Naomi worked up her courage to shimmy her way past her mother, one internal pep talk at a time.

"You're too young to know what's good for you." Ms. Rowe pressed a hand to her forehead. "I should have known you would be just like me."

Pep talks, courage, and anger all fled like birds away from a speeding car.

"What do you mean?"

"You were finally going to accomplish what I couldn't. You were going to be somebody. Do something. You were within reach of it."