Silverside Academy

Loaded Ice Cream & the Guilt that Came With It

Eilidh looked at her mother, ready to say something - anything. But Janet beat her to the punch.

“I know that this is a lot of change all at once.” The car seemed to grumble its agreement as it thrummed to life. Around them, the street Alison lived on began to pass by. “But you cannot treat me like this.” She grimaced as she struggled to contain her emotions.

Heartache nettled at her, twisting in her guts like a physical pain.

As much as it hurt, she knew she had to say it; to get through this part.

“I don’t care if you respect me as your mother or not. Your father left me in charge. He could have shipped you off to one of his buddies at Silverside. He could have ripped you away from me. Cut me from your life. But he didn’t.”

She skewered Eilidh with a glance. “He trusted me with you.” She gulped down her discomfort before she continued. “You have to trust me, too.”

The words were like a curse. She watched as anger flickered to life behind her daughter’s eyes.

Eilidh couldn’t believe her ears. Trust her? After she spent my entire life lying to me? Even as she thought it, guilt licked her like flames.

A part of her believed she was wholly justified in her feelings. Another part knew she was being unreasonable. It was the same holding pattern she’d been stuck in since she’d found out the truth.

But what burned her up the most was the fact that Janet demanded she trust her.

Crossing her arms, Eilidh asked, “Why should I?” Her words dripped with venom. “Why should I trust either of you?”

Janet sat up a little straighter. Her arms became rigid; her knuckles white. But she didn’t seem torn up. She looked resolute.

The fact that she seemed prepared for this particular retort only fueled Eilidh’s ire more.

She glared at her mother, watching as her brown eyes narrowed.

Then, still looking straight ahead, Janet finally said, “Because he was your father. And I’m all you have left.”

Eilidh thought about her father, yes. But about her many broken friendships, too. People she promised to stay in touch with who just faded from her circle. Names and faces that changed from place to place.

No friends. No family.

Just Janet.

She felt heat rise in her cheeks. Not because she hated her, but because she was calling her by her real name. Just Mom. She corrected herself. And she is my family.

The city passed her by as she tried to fish out even a single person to disprove her with. But she knew she was stretching when her mind wandered to Bosch; the random dude who left her his number on a school pamphlet.

Another surge of anger hit her as she thought, Damn it, why does she have to be right?

Janet really was the only person she had left.

It used to be something the pair took pride in: no matter what, they had each other. Them versus the world. Just mother and daughter, a duo forged in heartache too resilient to go down.

Eilidh’s eyes tracked the familiar streets as they passed the exit that would lead them home. She glanced at the clock on the dash. They’d been sitting in silence for 10 minutes.

Groaning inwardly, she decided to bite the bullet.

About time, the little voice that always liked to antagonize her chimed in.

“Where are we going?” She felt like she ground the words like stones between her teeth.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Janet relax.

“I figured if you needed some time out of the house, I could help with that. We’re going out for ice cream. Maybe we’ll catch a movie after. Or pick up something to snack on later. How does that sound?”

Eilidh could tell that Janet asked the last part out of habit.

Still, she played along.

“Sounds okay.” It was the nicest thing she could muster.

The rest of the ride was awkward. They didn’t speak. Janet kept her eyes on the road, and Eilidh made a point to look anywhere but at her mother.

Time seemed to stretch on and on. And as much as she wanted to keep up her frosty exterior and burning anger, Eilidh’s bad mood melted just a little as they turned into her favorite ice cream shop.

It was an out-of-the-way, mom-and-pop shop that always carried whatever flavors the owners felt like making. And the toppings bar was pretty killer.

Her stomach grumbled as she stepped out of the car. She didn’t want to miss out on anything tasty, but she suddenly felt compelled to speak. “If this is a bribe, I’ll take it. But this doesn’t fix anything.” She emphasized the last half of her sentence by crossing her arms and leaning away from her mother.

Janet had to resist the urge to scoff. Kid, she thought. If I really believed ice cream would fix any of this, we’d both be diabetic.

“Don’t I know it.” She breathed.

She hadn’t brought Eilidh here to bribe her. She just understood that a change in scenery could help to shift a person’s perspective. And they both needed that.

As she watched Eilidh storm towards the entrance, flashes of coming home to an empty house went through her mind.

She’d come through the door and set the take out she’d gotten for them on the living room table. It was hard to resist calling out for Eilidh or going up to her room to check on her. Instead, Janet forced herself to focus on chores that didn’t exist:

Doing dishes that weren’t dirty, wiping down pristine countertops.

It only took her a few minutes to realize that something wasn’t right.

She shook the memories from her mind as she recalled opening Eilidh’s empty room, calling and texting to no avail.

I’m lucky I remembered that damn address. I’m lucky she was there.

Eilidh disappeared through the door.

Lord, I have no illusions that this will magically make her forgive me. But please, please, with your help, let it aid her in processing the reality of our situation.

As soon as Eilidh was through the doors, she felt free.

Admittedly, it was hard to be angry in an ice cream parlor. But the space felt new, somehow, despite its familiarity.

It had been a gas station at some point, and had kept the odd layout. The combination of highly polished floors and a cash register front-and-center made it feel more like a retro diner than anything else.

The hand-painted chalk board behind the counter displayed the flavors of the day: blueberry cobbler, orange marmalade, limeade, pecan delight, and… Strawberry rose.

It caught her attention right away.

Mrs. Tomlin’s friendly face poked around the corner. “Well, hello, Eilidh. What can I do for you today?”

Eilidh turned to glance at Janet before refocusing on Mrs. Tomlin. “Strawberry rose - extra large, with unlimited toppings.” She realized that she sounded pretty haughty, and added, “Please,” as an afterthought.

The older woman’s eyes darted from her to Janet for just a moment.

Eilidh understood. She was asking permission.

“We’ll take two.” Janet’s voice was calm, though the strain was easy to pick up on.

As Mrs. Tomlin scooped ice cream into their bowls, Eilidh tried to rile herself up again.

Why does my mother have to be so nice? I want to hate her, but…

Her mind kept ferreting with the idea, even as she piled her ice cream high with drizzles of strawberry and chocolate sauces, chocolate chips and copious amounts of whipped cream.

She picked the table furthest away from all the happy families and normal teens.

Janet followed her with the mixture of love, exasperation, and amusement that only a parent could ever really know.

They ate their ice cream in silence for a while.

Eilidh enjoyed the subtle, tangy orange notes, the floral pallet, and the crisp, sweet strawberry flavor. They blended perfectly with the whipped cream and chocolate. Even sprinkles didn’t dull it when she decided to add a few more.

She watched morosely as another mother-daughter duo walked in and ordered identical ice creams.

They’re so happy. She almost felt nauseated. Not because of their joy, but for the lack of her own.

She couldn’t even stand to look at Janet. Every time she did, tears threatened to spill over.

It’s not her fault my mother died. She’s been the only mom I’ve ever known. I want that relationship with her again. Still. But how? How can I trust anything she says?

She forced herself to look at her.

Janet was looking towards the same duo with a wistful expression on her face. Her brown eyes shone with both tears and remembrance. The corners of her mouth were pulled upward in a vague, subtle smile.

Even now she was lovely, inside and out.

You can trust her because she’s trustworthy.

The thought took Eilidh by surprise. She nearly choked on my ice cream as her throat tried to let out an involuntary scoff.

Lying to me for 14 years - she started, though she wasn’t sure who she was really arguing with.

Keeping us safe for 14 years. You still haven’t been able to call your own wolf forward. What would you have done among werewolves? How would you have survived?

Now that was uncomfortable to contemplate. Horror stories of murder and child brides came to mind. No doubt her fate would have lied in one of those two paths.

You have dishonored your bloodline, and your mother. You should apologize, beg for forgiveness, and stand proudly in your new position.

Eilidh glowered, though her lips quivered with guilt.

I can’t keep going back and forth. I have to talk to her. I have to let her know where I stand.

Before she could speak, Mrs. Tomlin approached their table.