Chapter 11 - MAISIE’S MOTHERLauren remembered the letter.
Reid called her immediately.
“Did you write that you thought Maisie was better without you?”
Silence.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was in rehab.”
“You wrote from treatment?”
“Yes.”
“Was there a second page?”
Lauren exhaled.
“Yes.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t remember exactly.”
“Try.”
“I wrote that I was terrified I had already damaged her.”
Reid waited.
“And that I wanted to get better before trying again.”
“Anything else?”
“I asked you not to let your mother convince Maisie I didn’t love her.”
Reid closed his eyes.
Of course.
“Do you have a copy?”
“No.”
“Who did you send it to?”
“You.”
“I never saw it.”
“I know that now.”
Reid stared at the single page Cecelia sent.
Context removed.
Despair preserved.
Recovery erased.
“What happened after?”
“Your mother wrote back.”
Lauren’s voice changed.
“She said you read it and agreed.”
Reid stopped.
“What?”
“She said you believed I should stay away.”
“I never said that.”
“I know.”
“Do you still have her letter?”
“Yes.”
“Send it.”
Ten minutes later an image arrived.
Cecelia’s handwriting.
Lauren,
Reid agrees that continued instability will only confuse Maisie. If you truly love your daughter, give her the chance to forget the chaos.
Reid read it until his vision blurred.
His mother had written as if speaking for him.
The betrayal felt different now.
More intimate.
She had not simply controlled Lauren.
She had stolen Reid’s voice.
Later he showed the letter to Dr. Price.
“Do I tell Maisie?”
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“When the truth helps her rather than helps you relieve guilt.”
That answer hurt.
Reid nodded.
Dr. Price continued.
“Children do not need every document.”
“I know.”
“They need a coherent truth.”
“What truth?”
“That Lauren left for reasons unrelated to Maisie’s worth.”
Reid nodded.
“That Cecelia interfered with later contact.”
“Yes.”
“That I didn’t know.”
“Yes.”
“And that I should have known.”
Dr. Price paused.
“You can say you wish you had asked more questions.”
“That’s softer.”
“It’s accurate.”
Reid looked toward Maisie.
“I failed her.”
“Then repair.”
Dr. Price’s voice remained calm.
“Do not turn your failure into a burden she has to comfort.”
That stayed with him.
Maisie did not need a father collapsing in guilt.
She needed one behaving differently.
Meanwhile, Lauren struggled with the idea of seeing her daughter.
“I want to.”
“Then why do you sound terrified?”
“Because she’s eight.”
“Yes.”
“I last held her when she was two.”
Reid softened.
“You spoke last year.”
“For four minutes before your mother took the phone.”
“She remembers.”
“That makes it worse.”
“Why?”
“Because what if she imagined someone better than me?”
Reid almost laughed.
“That sounds like you.”
Lauren was silent.
“What?”
“You always thought you had to become perfect before you were allowed to show up.”
She sighed.
“And you always thought showing up physically meant you were present.”
He flinched.
Fair.
“Maybe we both learned something.”
“Maybe.”
They agreed no surprise reunion.
No dramatic doorstep.
No promises.
Lauren would speak to Dr. Price first.
Then Maisie would choose.
That evening Maisie sat on Reid’s bed looking through photographs.
She picked one where Lauren laughed with cake frosting on her nose.
“Mom looks weird.”
“She was weird.”
Maisie smiled.
“Did you love her?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?”
Reid paused.
“I care what happens to her.”
“That’s not the same.”
“No.”
Maisie looked at the photo.
“Do you hate her?”
“No.”
“Grandma does.”
“I know.”
“Do I have to?”
Reid’s heart tightened.
“No.”
“You won’t be mad?”
“No.”
“What if I love her?”
He leaned closer.
“I hope you do if that feels right to you.”
Maisie looked relieved.
That was the first moment Reid understood the depth of Cecelia’s influence.
Maisie had believed loving her own mother might be betrayal.
He touched the photo.
“You never have to choose between loving people.”
Maisie thought.
“What if they hate each other?”
“That’s their problem.”
“Even Grandma?”
“Even Grandma.”
Maisie nodded.
Then:
“I want to know Mom.”
Reid’s throat tightened.
“Okay.”
“Not live with her.”
“You don’t have to decide that.”
“Just know her.”
“Okay.”
He kissed her forehead.
May you like
And for the first time in six years, Reid did not decide what Lauren deserved.
He asked what Maisie needed.
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