Cabin by the Lake Read Free

forgot.”
    Lydia was almost left without the ability to speak. “You forgot? You mean, you just forgot to tell me that Uncle Todd died?”
    “Now, don’t make this all about you.”
    “Two years ago? You forgot for two years?”
    She knew her uncle had been sick for a long time, but she had been under the impression that he was getting better. “Mom, seriously, did you even try? Really, you came by my apartment six months ago. You could have told me then.”
    “Don’t be so dramatic. I have a lot of important things on my mind. And anyway, you haven’t even spoken to Vivian and Todd since, well, before your unfortunate incarceration. Besides, I figured you didn’t have anything appropriate to wear. And you know, you always cause some kind of trouble, so I thought I’d just leave it be.”
    She closed her eyes tightly shut, as if to block out her mother’s words. Katie could turn any conversation around to include a reminder of her past mistakes. “Mom, I haven’t seen them in a long time, but I loved Uncle Todd. I should have been there for Aunt Vi.”
    “Oh, don’t worry about it. Vivian was a basket case, anyway, walking around like a zombie. I doubt she missed you. She hasn’t even mentioned you not being there at the funeral, which is not surprising after the mean way you talked to her that time.”
    A pang of hurt went through her heart. Of all the relationships in her life, the one she’d had with her aunt was the one she regretted losing the most. “I can’t believe you would bring that up again, Mother,” she said coldly.
    “Don’t get snippy with me, Lydia. Facts are facts, and I can’t just wave a magic wand and make the things you said and did go away. You need to grow up, girl, and realize you’ve got to live with your mistakes.”
    She pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten. “I live with my mistakes every day, Mom. I’ve got to get back to work now.”
    “I can’t believe you’re still waitressing at that bar.”
    “It’s not a bar, Mom. It’s Barney’s Diner.”
    “Whatever. That’s so trashy. You’re twenty-eight years old, for gosh sakes. Don’t you think you should look for a job that’s a little classier?”
    “I’m looking, Mom. Anne is trying to help me find something better.”
    “Anne, your old parole officer,” she said, disapproval apparent in her voice. “I can’t believe the people you choose for friends. I hate to say it, Lydia, but frankly, I’m embarrassed to tell my friends what you do for a living. At least your sister Brittany is—”
    “I’ve really got to go. Talk to you later.” She hung up before she could hear about her beautiful, successful sister. There was just so much she could take. It never changed. Her mother could find a way to work some sort of criticism into any conversation.
    She replaced the receiver on the old wall phone and leaned her head against it.
    “You okay?” asked Barney. He was sixty-five, rough around the edges, but he’d been very kind to her and gave her as many hours a week as he could.
    “I need a minute,” she said.
    “Sure, the morning rush is slowing; take a break.”
    She locked herself in the grungy bathroom in the back and began to cry. Uncle Todd had been a huge influence in her life. As men rotated in and out of her mother’s life, Todd had been the one constant father-figure who had always been there. Strong, quiet and steady, he was always there for a hug and would let her hang around in his garage while he worked on a project, listening as she chattered on incessantly, nodding his approval when she looked to see if he was paying attention.
    He and Aunt Vi were like one entity, always together, and when she was with them, she felt surrounded by safety and love. Time seemed to slow down when she was at the lake. She and Brittany stayed with them the summer she was nine while her mother was on her honeymoon with her third husband. Vivian taught her to sew that summer, patiently showing