Love Me for Me(42)

He nodded, his lips pursed in thought. “I remember teaching a young girl to hit balls out at the ball field because she’d never learned to play. You always wanted to play, Libby, you just didn’t know how. You’d let me show you, and it was easy. That person in the diner doesn’t seem very different from the girl I knew. Although I will say that this immaculately dressed businesswoman is quite a change.” A man brought by two plates of lobster and set them in front of Pop and Helen. “Makes me wonder if the change is more on the outside than on the inside, but if it’s loosening up you need, you’ve come to the right place.”

“Sorry I’m late!” Celia Potter shuffled over, set a gift bag from the boutique down the street onto the table, and sat down next to Libby. “Hi, honey!” she said, slightly out of breath, as she kissed her cheek. With a quick wave, she acknowledged the others at the table before turning to Helen. “Hi, Helen! Happy birthday!” She pushed the bag toward her.

Helen had always been gracious about Celia Potter, and Libby wondered if it was because she knew what it was like to raise a child by herself. No matter how Celia behaved, Helen always knew just what to say. “Thank you, Celia! You didn’t have to get me anything. I think this is grand enough,” she raised her hands in the air, gesturing at the tables around her.

“Oh, it’s your birthday! You deserve something special.”

Helen pulled the pink-and-white-striped gift bag toward her and peeked inside. She retrieved a small, gray box with swoopy lettering. A silver bangle bracelet was nestled inside. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Celia. Thank you,” she said, slipping it on. The caterers finished handing out the plates of food as Ryan stood up from the table behind Helen and tapped his glass with a butter knife.

“I’d like to propose a quick toast—nothing elaborate—to my mother, who has always been there for us. Mom,” he turned to her. She looked up at him with doting eyes, “I love you so much. I am so blessed to have you as my mother. Here’s to family! Happy birthday.” He raised his glass. As Libby raised hers, she couldn’t help but think about what kind of toast she would give her own mother. Certainly, she could give a heartfelt toast for Helen or Jeanie, but what she would say about Celia Potter was a mystery. Looking at Celia right then, however, she saw her smiling, the way her eyes twinkled as she watched Jeanie tell a story, and she felt happy for her. Like Libby, maybe she too needed to be taught how to loosen up. As she thought this, it made Libby wish for more time to show her how happy she could be.

Everyone took a drink. The guitar played underneath the chitchat of the guests as they all started eating. The flickering of the candles on the ground, the swishing of the waves in the bay, and the warm breeze made her feel like an outsider, out of place. As she looked at the family gathered around her, she realized, as they talked, that they had shared memories, funny stories, good times together. When she thought of her own mother, her memories were those of emotional survival, determination and hard work. Her mother had taught her a lot, but they hadn’t really just enjoyed themselves together. For thirty years, she’d missed out on those types of memories with her mother.

Libby knew she had that interview request sitting in her inbox, waiting for her to respond. She had a possible way out. Celia had never had that opportunity. Libby thought about how terrible she’d felt coming back, and she realized that Celia had lived that from the time she was a young lady until now. She’d never gotten out, never gotten away. How sad her mother must feel. Celia probably felt just as isolated as Libby.

“Miss Libby,” Pop said from across the table. “Tell us about working for Marty. How’s the new job?” Pete stood up, excusing himself from the table, exposing her even more. Now she didn’t even have the physical comfort of being situated between two bodies.

“Um…” All eyes were on her, including her mother’s. Panic tingled around inside her as she realized that she’d have to ensure that her mother would be pleased with what she said. How could she spin the experience into something positive? Perhaps she could say that Marty was like a mentor for her, showing her how to run a firm so that she could have the experience for future opportunities. Libby ran the words through her head just to be sure, scrambling for the perfect response.

Pete returned just in time to take the focus off her. “Here you are, Celia,” he handed her a glass of wine. “I noticed you didn’t have anything to drink.” He set down another glass in front of Libby. “You’re doing great,” he whispered to her, his breath tickling her ear. He could always read her face, tell what she was thinking. Pete knew how Libby didn’t like being the center of attention. He knew how it bothered her to have her mother there to weigh in on everything she said. He gave her a quick squeeze on the shoulders before sitting down. This only proved to add more confusion to her thoughts.