Orchards and Moonlight - a Mialotte story (TNN)

Confrontation

At the nursery, the peaceful hum of activity was disrupted by the unexpected arrival of Marjorie's mother. Marjorie was in her office, going over some paperwork, when the door swung open. She looked up, surprised to see the woman she had long tried to distance herself from standing in the doorway.

"Mother?" Marjorie said, her voice betraying her shock. She hadn't seen her mother in years, and the sudden appearance filled her with a mix of dread and unease.

Her mother stepped into the office, her gaze sharp as she took in the surroundings. "So, this is what you've been up to?" she asked, her tone dripping with disapproval. "Managing a nursery?"

Marjorie swallowed hard, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I've built a life here, Mother. I manage this nursery, and I'm proud of it."

Before her mother could respond, the door to the office opened again, and Carly walked in, a bright smile on her face. "Hey, Mom, do you have a minute? I—"

Carly stopped abruptly, noticing the tension in the room and the unfamiliar woman standing in front of Marjorie's desk. Her smile faded as she looked between the two women, sensing that something was wrong.

Marjorie's mother's eyes narrowed as she looked at Carly, her gaze flicking back to Marjorie. "Mom?" she echoed, her voice laced with suspicion. "You let her call you 'Mom'?"

Marjorie's heart skipped a beat as she realized what was about to happen. She had never told her mother the truth—that she hadn't lost the baby all those years ago. Panic began to rise within her as she tried to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

But it was too late.

Her mother's face twisted in anger as the realization dawned on her. "You never lost her, did you?" she hissed, her voice growing louder. "You lied to me! You ran away and kept her!"

Marjorie flinched at the harshness in her mother's voice, the years of resentment and bitterness spilling out in an instant. Carly looked on in confusion, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation but knowing that something was terribly wrong.

"I had no choice!" Marjorie tried to explain, her voice breaking. "I couldn't stay there with you and—"

"You're a liar!" her mother shouted, cutting her off. "You were supposed to get rid of that baby! You were supposed to listen to me!"

"Stop," Carly interrupted, her voice firm. She turned to face her grandmother, her posture straight and resolute. "You don't get to yell at her. Whatever happened back then, it's between us now. Not you."

The older woman looked at Carly, her anger wavering for a moment as she saw the strength in her granddaughter's eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about," she muttered, but there was less venom in her tone now, more uncertainty.

"I know enough," Carly replied, her voice steady. "I know that my mom did the best she could. And I'm proud of her for that."

Marjorie's mother opened her mouth to respond, but the fight had gone out of her. With a huff, she turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her.

The room fell into silence once more, the tension finally dissipating. Marjorie took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She looked at Carly, who was watching her with a mixture of concern and love.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," Marjorie said softly, reaching out to take Carly's hand.

Carly squeezed her hand back, offering a small, reassuring smile. "It's okay, Mom. We'll figure this out together."

Marjorie nodded, her heart swelling with gratitude and love for her daughter. "Thank you, Carly. I love you."

"I love you too," Carly replied, and they embraced. 

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A few days after the confrontation at the nursery, Marjorie was sitting in the living room, trying to relax with a cup of tea when her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, and her heart sank as she saw her mother's name flashing. With a deep breath, she answered, already bracing herself for what was to come.

"What do you want, Mother?" Marjorie asked, her voice calm but weary.

On the other end, her mother's voice was sharp, laced with the familiar tone of accusation. "You think you can just hide things from me? Keep secrets like that? You've made a fool out of me, Marjorie! How dare you—"

"Enough," Marjorie interrupted, her voice firm. She had spent too many years allowing her mother to control the narrative, to make her feel small and guilty. But not anymore.

Her mother paused, clearly not expecting the interruption. "What did you just say?"

"I said, enough," Marjorie repeated, her voice gaining strength. "I'm done letting you yell at me, blame me, and make me feel like I owe you something. I made my choices, and I've built a life that I'm proud of. You don't get to come into my life and tear it apart because you don't like the way things turned out."

"Marjorie, you ungrateful—"

"No," Marjorie cut in again, her tone unyielding. "You don't get to do this to me anymore. I'm not that scared girl who ran away all those years ago. I'm a mother now, and I'll do whatever it takes to protect my daughter from the kind of toxic behaviour you're showing right now."

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, and Marjorie could almost feel the weight of her mother's shock. For a moment, she wondered if her mother would finally see reason, but then the older woman's voice returned, this time more venomous than before.

"You think you can just shut me out? I'm your mother!"

"And I'm your daughter," Marjorie replied, her voice steady. "But that doesn't give you the right to treat me this way. If you can't respect me and the life I've built, then there's nothing more to say."

"Don't you dare hang up on me!" her mother snapped.

But Marjorie had already made up her mind. "Goodbye, Mother," she said calmly, and before her mother could say another word, she ended the call.

Marjorie sat back, her heart racing but her mind clear. For the first time in years, she felt a sense of peace. She had finally taken control of her life, setting boundaries that she should have established long ago.

She knew it wouldn't be easy, that her mother would likely try to reach out again, but for now, Marjorie allowed herself to savour this small victory. She had stood up for herself, for Carly, and for the life she had worked so hard to create. And that was something worth celebrating.