my mom is billie eilish

Chapter 3: A New Life Begins

The days that followed my meeting with Billie were a blur of confusion and uncertainty. Every time I tried to focus on school, my mind would drift back to that afternoon in the café. I kept replaying our conversation over and over, trying to make sense of it all. But no matter how many times I went through it in my head, it still didn't seem real. How could the person I had idolized from afar suddenly be so intertwined with my life? My biological mother.

Even though I had asked for time to think, Billie respected my space. She didn't push, didn't bombard me with messages or calls. But the silence was almost worse. It left too much room for my thoughts to spiral, for questions to bubble up that I didn't have answers to.

It wasn't until a week later that she reached out again, this time with an invitation.

I was sitting in my room, staring blankly at my homework, when my phone buzzed. The message was simple: *"Hey Katherine, I know you're probably still processing everything, but I wanted to invite you to dinner. Just us, no pressure. I'd love to spend some time with you, whenever you're ready. - Billie"*

I stared at the message for a long time, my heart pounding. I wasn't sure if I was ready to see her again, but something inside me—curiosity, maybe—pushed me to respond.

*"Okay,"* I typed back before I could change my mind. *"When?"*

Her reply came almost immediately. *"How about tomorrow night? I can pick you up at 6?"*

*"Sure,"* I replied, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety. What was I getting myself into?

The next day crawled by. Each hour seemed longer than the last, and by the time the final bell rang, my nerves were shot. I didn't know what to expect from dinner with Billie. Would it be awkward? Would we have anything to talk about? Would she try to explain herself more, or would we just pretend everything was normal?

I didn't have much time to dwell on those questions because, before I knew it, Billie's car pulled up outside my house. It wasn't the flashy, expensive car I had imagined a celebrity like her driving. Instead, it was a simple black SUV, understated and almost anonymous.

I hesitated before stepping outside, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. The evening air was cool, and I wrapped my jacket tighter around me as I approached the car. Billie was already out, leaning against the passenger door, a tentative smile on her face.

"Hi," she greeted me softly. "You look nice."

"Thanks," I muttered, not really knowing how to respond. I hadn't dressed up or anything, just my usual jeans and a sweater, but I guess it was the thought that counted.

She opened the door for me, and I slid into the passenger seat. The interior of the car was clean, with the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air. Billie got in on the driver's side and gave me a nervous glance before pulling away from the curb.

"Do you like Italian?" she asked after a few minutes of silence, her eyes flicking towards me briefly.

"Yeah, it's fine," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, her hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "I found this quiet place just outside of town. I thought it might be a good spot to talk... or just eat, if you don't feel like talking."

I appreciated her trying to make me feel comfortable, but it didn't do much to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. The drive was short, and soon enough, we were pulling into the parking lot of a small, cozy-looking Italian restaurant. Fairy lights were strung up around the entrance, casting a warm glow over the exterior.

We walked inside together, the hostess leading us to a secluded table near the back. The restaurant was quiet, with only a few other diners scattered around. Billie seemed relieved by the privacy, and I couldn't help but feel the same. I wasn't ready for a public spectacle.

We sat down, and I fiddled with the edge of the menu, trying to avoid looking directly at her. The silence stretched on, growing heavier with each passing second.

"Katherine," Billie finally said, her voice soft, almost pleading. "I know this is hard. I don't expect you to just... accept everything overnight. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what."

I looked up at her, surprised by the sincerity in her eyes. "It's just... it's a lot," I admitted. "I don't know how to feel about any of this. You showing up out of nowhere... it's like my whole life has been flipped upside down."

She nodded, her expression full of understanding. "I know. And I'm sorry for that. I wish I could've done things differently, but I can't change the past. All I can do is try to be here for you now, if you'll let me."

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to spill over. "I don't even know you. How am I supposed to just... accept that you're my mother?"

"You don't have to accept it right away," she said gently. "We can take things slow. Get to know each other, one step at a time. I don't want to rush you or force anything. I just... I want to be a part of your life, however that looks."

The vulnerability in her voice caught me off guard. She wasn't just the confident, larger-than-life figure I'd seen on TV. She was a person—a scared, uncertain person who was trying to reconnect with a daughter she'd never known.

"I don't know what I want," I admitted, my voice shaky. "But I think... I think I'm willing to try. To get to know you, I mean."

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she reached across the table, her hand hovering just above mine. "That's all I could ask for. Thank you, Katherine."

I didn't pull away this time. Instead, I let her hand rest on top of mine, the warmth of her touch both foreign and oddly comforting. Maybe this wouldn't be as impossible as I had feared. Maybe there was a chance for us to find some kind of middle ground, some way to build a relationship out of the mess of our past.

We spent the rest of the evening talking—about little things, nothing too deep or personal. She told me stories from her tours, about the places she'd been and the people she'd met. It was strange, hearing about her life as a superstar, knowing that in some parallel universe, I could have been a part of that.

But as the conversation flowed, I found myself relaxing a little, the tension easing out of my shoulders. She wasn't trying to overwhelm me with details about my past or explanations for her choices. She was just... Billie. And that made it easier for me to just be Katherine.

When the meal ended, Billie insisted on driving me home. As we pulled up to my house, I turned to her, a million thoughts swirling in my head.

"Thank you," I said quietly, "for dinner. And for... for giving me space."

She smiled, that same gentle smile that was starting to feel familiar. "Anytime. If you ever want to talk, or just hang out... I'm here."

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of emotions—relief, hope, and maybe, just maybe, a flicker of something resembling trust.

"Goodnight, Katherine," she said as I opened the car door.

"Goodnight, Billie," I replied, stepping out into the cool night air. I watched as she drove away, the tail lights of her car disappearing down the street.

As I stood there, the silver locket she had given me pressed against my chest, I realized that maybe, just maybe, this new chapter of my life wouldn't be as terrifying as I had feared. It wouldn't be easy, but perhaps I could find a way to navigate this strange new world—with Billie by my side.