“What are you doing here?” The words are so cold they almost give my tongue frostbite.

My mother’s eyes dart quickly over at Julia and then she looks at the floor.

“I invited her, Isabella.”

“You?” I turn on my heel, pointing my finger at Julia like a loaded gun. “Seriously? What were you thinking?” Suddenly I realize the room has gone as quiet as a funeral service and all eyes are on me. Make some popcorn while you’re at it, ladies.

Julia realizes we’re becoming the main event and directs the women back to her onesie decorating sweatshop before leading my mother and me into the kitchen where there’s a little more privacy.

“Isabella, that’s no way to act about seeing your mother,” Julia scolds me like a little child.

Maybe it’s appropriate ’cause right now I’m on the verge of throwing a tantrum.

“I didn’t think it was right that your parents weren’t included in your life when this is such an important time for you. I can’t tell you how many times I wish I had my mother to talk to since I’ve gotten pregnant.”

“My parents aren’t dead, Julia. They choose to stay out of my life.”

Julia steps back and raises her hand to her mouth like I punched her in the face with my words. I instantly feel terrible for being so insensitive about the fact her parents have both passed away, but I’m just so angry that she betrayed me.

“Isabella! That’s no way to talk to your friend. I’m sorry, Julia, it was a mistake for me to come here.” My mother finally finds her voice.

“No, it wasn’t a mistake.” Julia holds up her hand. “Everyone just needs to calm down for a second.” She walks over to me and puts her hands on my shoulders, looking straight at me. “Isabella, I’m sorry I went behind your back, okay? I know I overstepped my bounds, I do. It’s just that sometimes it’s easier to see things clearly from the outside looking in, and it isn’t right that you and your parents don’t work things out when you have your first baby on the way.”

“You’re right.” I shake free from her grip. “You did overstep your bounds.” Reason is the last thing I want to listen to right now, but Julia isn’t about to give up.

“Do you remember when I first met Parker?” Julia tilts her head at me, her hand clinging to her hip. “I didn’t want anything to do with him, remember?” The memory of a simpler time, when Julia and I were both waitressing at the diner, pops into my head. She had crumpled up Parker’s number and tossed it, so I called him and gave him her number instead. I had known she just needed to give him a chance.

“It’s not the same.” I pout, knowing she’s got me.

“You’re right, it’s actually more important for you to resolve your differences with your parents than it was for me to date Parker. And that was the most important decision of my life. Just have some lemonade and cake and sit out on the veranda. Hear your mother out, please.”

I look at my mother standing awkwardly beside us and over her shoulder into the living room where the women are doing a terrible job of pretending not to listen in. Finally, I meet Julia’s gaze and sigh, my shoulders hunching over. “Fine.”

A smile spreads across Julia’s face like a child sneaking out to catch a glimpse of all the presents under the tree on Christmas morning. I pour myself a glass of lemonade and cut a big hunk of the Pinterest-perfect cake Julia got to celebrate our joint baby shower. Somehow, defacing the lovely, three-tiered cake covered in fondant and polka dots makes me feel better. The little plastic stork holding a white sheet carrying two adorable babies judges me. I decide to ignore the stork and the nosy women in the living room and make my way to the veranda without another word.

As soon as we’re seated at the table, I push the cake away. I just don’t have an appetite right now. “You want this?”

My mother looks at it for a second but shakes her head.

“You look great, Isabella. I can’t believe how small you are. Aren’t you five months now?” Her eyes trail down to my slightly puffy belly.

“Yep, almost twenty weeks.”

“I never did understand how far along someone was when they counted in weeks. It’s like when mothers tell me their baby is thirty-one months and I have to do math to figure out how old the kid is.” She smiles, but my stone-cold stare quickly evaporates the happiness from her face.

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?”

“No, sorry, I was just trying to make small talk, I guess.” She fiddles with her wedding band and avoids my gaze. Her eyes are beginning to mist up, but she’s trying to hide it from me. “What I wanted to say is that”—she looks up at me—“I’m sorry.” She wipes the tears forming in the corner of her eyes, and I notice for the first time just how tired she looks. I guess it isn’t that she looks tired as much as she’s just growing older. Time is showing its passage in the lines crinkling her skin.

“Okay, well, now I know.” I refuse to let my guard down. I will not open my heart only to have it stomped on again. The way I’m treating my mother may be cruel, but so is turning your back on your child. Twice.

“Isabella, please just hear me out.” She reaches across the table to hold my hand, but I recoil from her touch. Instead, she folds her hands in her lap and hangs her head. “You know, there hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept all the way through in eleven years now.” Her voice trembles as she talks down to her chest. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for standing by and letting your father kick you out of the house, because the good Lord knows I’ve never forgiven myself. I just want to tell you that, if you’ll let me, I’d like to mend the past and prove I can do better. I know I messed up as a mother, and you have every right to be angry with me, but if you’ll let me in your life, I will do everything in my power to be a better mom and the best nana I can.”

Her chin trembles and it reminds me of Madison when she gets worked up. I can’t fight my instinct to comfort her. I reach out, offering my hand, and the tears spill down her face as she accepts.

“Mom, of course you can be in my life. That’s what I always wanted.” My throat tightens as I fight back my tears. “I didn’t walk out that door. I was pushed out.”

She nods and gives my hand a squeeze.

“How about you bring Colt and Madison over to the house on Sunday after the service? I’ll cook up a big family dinner like we used to have. I’ll even make up a fresh blueberry pie.” She tempts me with my favorite dessert.

“What about Dad?”

“You leave your father to me. If you come over, I promise he won’t make a fuss. I let that man push you out of my life once. I’m never going to allow it again.” My mother’s mascara is smudging every time she blinks, emphasizing the bags under her eyes. She looks incredibly weary.

“Okay.” I surprise myself with how quickly I agree. The truth is, this is what my heart wants and my burden is already lighter just knowing that my mom wants to build our relationship back up from the ashes.

“I’ll talk to Colt and let you know, but I don’t see it being a problem.” I smile and it’s the first time in a long time that I can remember actually feeling hopeful about my relationship with my mom.

We stand up and my mother gives me a quick hug. Her arms don’t melt around me like they used to when I was a child. Her arms used to be the safest, warmest place I knew and now they feel like rigid tree branches against my back.

I hope I never ruin the comfort of my hugs for my child.

We make our way back inside and the cake has disappeared from the counter. I put my untouched piece by the sink. In the next room the women are cackling and stuffing their faces. It sounds like the party turned out all right after all. Julia quickly spots us hovering around the island and joins us, her face full of hope.

“Hey, you two, did you want to join the fun? We’re about to open up the gifts in a minute.”

“I should get going, actually. Thank you for inviting me, though, Julia. You look very happy and I’m happy for you.” Mom gives Julia a hug, and I can’t help but notice that it looks less awkward than the one we just shared. My mother gives me a quick peck on the cheek and leaves without saying a word to the crowd of ladies who watch her go.

Julia and I join the group, both acting like nothing happened.

“Okay, everyone! It’s time to open some gifts. First, I want to thank all of you for coming today and for being so kind as to bring presents. I’ve been told there’s no such thing as too many toys and diapers, so don’t worry if there are some repeats.” She smiles. “All right, so here’s one for you, Isabella.” She hands me the small present my mother was holding. “And I’ll open this one.” She grabs for herself a huge box with an elaborate bow topping it.

I take my gift over to a seat and wonder what my mother brought me. The women are watching as Julia puts on a show about opening up her present, and frankly I’m happy to have the space I need to recover after that talk I just had.

Sliding my fingers under the scotch tape, I rip open the folded end of paper and tear it off in one pull. In my hands is a little stuffed, gray Scottie dog. Not the typical teddy bear you’d expect for a newborn, but it’s still cute. Suddenly it dawns on me why the dog looks familiar. It reminds me of Toto from The Wizard of Oz. I loved that movie as a child.

I check the tag around its neck demanding I squeeze him. As soon as I wrap my hand around his middle the faint notes of “Somewhere over the Rainbow” fill my ears. I freeze in place as my mind flashes back to when my mother used to sing me this song, rubbing her hand over my hair, soothing away my fears. The tears I’ve been holding back burst from me like a fire hydrant as sobs wrack my body. That song has always been the one memory that remained untainted by the years of quiet anger, and now I can pass it on to my child.