Chapter 21 - Meadow Meets Serena
Meadow turned eighteen in July.
Three weeks later, Serena came to Omaha.
We met in a therapist’s office because Meadow asked for structure.
I sat beside Meadow at first.
Serena entered.
She looked at Meadow and immediately cried.
Meadow did not move.
“Hi.”
Serena whispered:
“Hi.”
Then Meadow said:
“I have questions.”
“Okay.”
“Did you love me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you tell me to stop crying?”
Serena’s face collapsed.
“Because I was thinking about myself.”
“Not Dad?”
“Him too. Mostly myself.”
“Were you scared Mom would hate you?”
“Yes.”
“She did.”
Serena glanced at me.
“I know.”
Then Meadow:
“Why did you pick up my boot?”
“Dennis told me to remove anything that made the story harder.”
“Did you know that was wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you do it?”
“I was a coward.”
Same word Dennis used.
Then:
“Why did you call 911?”
“Because you were hurt and Dennis told me to wait.”
“Did you think I might die?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you ride with me?”
Serena cried harder.
“Because I was still trying to save myself.”
Meadow stared at her.
“That’s really bad.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
Then:
“Did you want to be my mom?”
Serena stopped breathing.
I looked at Meadow.
She had remembered.
Serena answered slowly.
“I imagined living with your dad and helping raise you.”
“That means yes.”
“Yes.”
Meadow’s jaw tightened.
“You already had a sister.”
Serena looked at me.
“I know.”
Then:
“Did you hate Mom?”
“No.”
“Jealous?”
“Yes.”
“Because she was better?”
I almost objected.
Serena shook head.
“Because I thought she was.”
Good.
Then Meadow asked:
“Why did you help Dad make those videos?”
“I wanted to believe he was right about your mom.”
“Was he?”
“No.”
“Did you know?”
“Eventually.”
“And you kept helping?”
“Yes.”
Silence.
Then Meadow said:
“I don't forgive you.”
Serena nodded.
“Okay.”
“Maybe I will someday.”
“You don’t owe me that.”
Same lesson.
Then:
“I don’t want you at my birthday.”
“Okay.”
“I don't want you calling.”
“Okay.”
“Can I email if I want?”
“Yes.”
Meadow nodded.
“That’s all.”
Meeting lasted thirty-two minutes.
Serena stood.
Then asked:
“Can I say one thing?”
Meadow looked at me.
I shrugged.
Her choice.
“Okay.”
Serena said:
“I am glad you survived what we did to you.”
Meadow’s face changed.
“We?”
“Yes.”
Good.
No placing all on Dennis.
Then Serena left.
In the car, Meadow cried.
I drove.
Finally she said:
“She’s not evil.”
“No.”
“That would be easier.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“Dad isn't either.”
“No.”
She leaned against window.
“People are confusing.”
I smiled.
“You invented that family motto.”
Then:
“Do you forgive her?”
“I do.”
“How?”
“I don't know exactly when.”
“Do you want her in your life?”
“Not much.”
Meadow looked at me.
“So forgiveness is kind of useless.”
I laughed.
“Sometimes it is only useful inside you.”
She thought.
“That's annoying.”
“Yes.”
Then Meadow went to college.
Wildlife biology.
Dorm.
Roommate.
Normal problems.
Laundry.
Chemistry.
A boy who ghosted her.
For the first time, our family story was not the center of her life.
That was the goal.
Then Serena emailed once on Meadow’s birthday.
Happy birthday. No response needed.
Meadow deleted it.
Next year she replied:
Thank you.
May you like
Tiny.
Her choice.
