The Stubborn Suitor, Book 1 (The Stubborn Suitor #1)(6)
Cami’s mother eyed her speculatively for a moment, as if she disagreed with Cami having turned out fine, but she thankfully didn’t respond. She simply sipped her tea and looked back down at her magazine.
“Besides,” Cami continued, too indignant to let the topic fall just yet, “I love my career. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I love helping people. I feel like I’m making a difference in the world.”
Her mother just hummed, but didn’t look up from the magazine. They sat in silence for a few minutes, her mother reading while Cami collected her thoughts. She was just about to get Madison and head home when her mother spoke again.
“I worked two jobs while you were growing up because I had to. I had no other options,” she said after a moment.
“And I do?” Cami really didn’t know where her mother was going with this, and she didn’t want to know.
“I was older than you are. I had less going for me. You’re still young. You have a beautiful face.”
Cami cringed at the word face. Now she definitely knew where the conversation was heading and she didn’t want to have it. She moved to stand but her mom put a forceful hand on her shoulder. For a woman her age, she had a surprising level of strength.
“Just sit here for a second and hear me out,” she said. “You owe me that much.”
Cami hated when her mother brought up all the free childcare she was giving. But it was true—Cami did owe her mother a lot. So she gritted her teeth and sank back into the chair. She allowed her mother to push the open magazine over until it was sitting in front of Cami. It was open to an article about celebrity diets.
“You have such a beautiful face,” her mother repeated. “If you just lost a little weight, you’d have no trouble catching yourself a man.”
“I’m not fat, Mother,” Cami said through gritted teeth.
“No one said you were,” her mom said softly. She leaned forward to brush a loose lock of Cami’s hair behind her ear. “But you could stand to lose a few pounds. I’m not saying that to be mean, sweetheart. I’m only trying to help. Right now, you have so much going for you. You’re young and smart and vivacious. That head of hair of yours is just to-die-for. You know how many women wish they were natural redheads? Millions of dollars are spent in salons each year trying to recreate what God gave you naturally. And those eyes… you have your father’s eyes—so big and green. Not to mention your skin—so clear. Most redheads are covered with freckles.”
“There is nothing wrong with freckles,” Cami said defensively. “Madison has freckles.”
“All I’m saying, dear, is that, with a little weight loss, you could be absolutely stunning.”
Cami bit her tongue. She knew that her mother meant well. In her warped mind, she thought she was offering her daughter a piece of helpful advice, not trampling on her self-esteem. Cami tried not to let the words get to her, but she couldn’t help but feel hurt.
“You would have men falling all over you,” her mother continued. “If you lost a little weight, you would easily be able to catch yourself a guy. You could marry someone who would support you, so you didn’t have to work. Support you and Madison.”
“I already married a man who was wealthy enough to support me,” Cami spat bitterly. “And we both know how that turned out. I’m never going to rely on another man to take care of me! Especially not some hypothetical one that will only appear after I starve myself!”
With that, Cami pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. She stomped from the room before her mother had a chance to respond. Cami really wasn’t interested in anything she had to say at the moment.
Her mood was quickly lifted, however, as she found herself in the guest bedroom, leaning over her sleeping child. Madison was in the middle of potty training, and was wearing a pull-up and nothing else. She was stretched out on her stomach, with her strawberry curls twisting against her freckled back. She had one thumb in her mouth, while the other hand clutched the corner of her purple blankie.
Cami considered waking her daughter in order to help her dress, but she really didn’t have the heart to do so—not when Madison looked so peaceful and precious in sleep. Instead, she wrapped the little girl in the comforter and carried her out against her shoulder.
Her mother was standing in the hall as Cami walked by, but Cami didn’t raise her eyes to look at the older woman.
“Good night, sweetheart,” her mom said exasperatedly, seemingly unaware of the hurtful words she’d uttered only a few minutes earlier.
“’Night, Mom,” Cami replied quietly, so as not to wake her daughter, before exiting the apartment.
She tucked Madison into her car seat—a difficult task while still wrapped in the comforter—and kissed her forehead before starting the car and heading home.
Cami barely made it out of the parking lot before the weight of the day caught up with her. Sadness, anxiety, and frustration washed over her, twisting her body into knots. Tears, refusing to be contained, began to pour down her face. Within moments, she was crying so hard that she could barely drive. Unwilling to put her daughter in danger, she pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Shoving her fist into her mouth so as not to wake Madison with her heaving sobs, she silently wept against the steering wheel.