Chapter 23 - CECELIA ASKS TO SEE MAISIE
Cecelia did not see Maisie for nine months.
Not because I chose the number.
Because Maisie kept saying no.
Each month Dr. Brooks asked indirectly.
Each month:
“No.”
Cecelia hated it.
She respected it.
Eventually.
At month ten:
“Only if somebody stays.”
We arranged supervised family therapy.
First meeting.
Forty-five minutes.
Cecelia entered slowly.
No gifts.
Dr. Ellis had advised against them.
She sat six feet away.
Maisie stared.
Cecelia began:
“I’m sorry.”
Dr. Brooks raised a hand.
“Specific.”
Cecelia nodded.
“I grabbed your hair.”
Maisie looked down.
“I yelled at you.”
Silence.
“I tried to make you delete a picture because I was afraid your dad would find out something I had done.”
Maisie looked up.
Cecelia’s voice shook.
“I made you afraid because I wanted something from you.”
That was good.
No but.
Then:
“That was wrong.”
Maisie asked:
“Did you steal my money?”
Cecelia looked at me.
I did not answer for her.
She said:
“I used money from your trust when I did not have permission.”
Precision.
“Why?”
“To help Uncle Caleb’s business.”
“Why mine?”
Cecelia began:
“Because you had—”
Stopped.
Good.
Because the old answer was:
You had enough.
She tried again.
“Because I convinced myself helping him was more important than asking.”
Maisie nodded slowly.
“Did Dad know?”
“No.”
Then Cecelia looked at me.
“And he should have checked.”
Maisie said:
“He knows.”
I almost laughed.
Cecelia did too.
Tiny moment.
Then Maisie asked:
“Are you going to grab me again?”
Cecelia’s face broke.
“No.”
“How do I know?”
Hard.
Cecelia answered:
“You don’t yet.”
Perfect.
Not promise as proof.
She continued:
“You get to watch what I do.”
Maisie nodded.
They did not hug.
I was glad.
People crave hugs because they look like closure.
Sometimes space is more honest.
At the end, Cecelia asked:
“Can I see you again?”
Maisie thought.
“Maybe.”
Cecelia nodded.
“Okay.”
No pressure.
May you like
That was the first time I saw my mother receive uncertainty without trying to control it.
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