Free Turning the Page by Georgia Beers

a personal question?"
    "Sure."
    "Do you look like your mom?"
    Taylor caught her eye. "Where did that come from?"
    "I just was wondering. Other than your eyes, I don't really see a lot of Ben in you. I just
    thought you must look more like her."
    "Yeah. As a matter of fact, I look a lot like her. Almost like twins, as my grandma says."
    "Were you close to her?"
    Taylor hesitated, not used to the subject.
    Melanie took it as annoyance and hurried to apologize. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer
    that. Never mind. I'm being nosy. It's none of my business," she said in a rush.
    "No, no," Taylor reassured her. "It's okay. I don't mind. I'm just not used to talking about her." She took a deep breath. "Yes. We were very close. I could tell her just about anything, and she'd listen with an open mind and an open heart. I was terrified to tell my family that
    I'm gay, but Maggie and I were having problems and I was a mess...barely functioning, really. I
    made the decision to tel her, if for no other reason than I needed my mommy." She smiled at
    Melanie, and the older woman had a sudden flash of what Taylor must have looked like as a
    little girl. "She didn't even flinch—no small feat for a woman raised as an Italian Catholic. She came right over to me, put her arms around me, and just held me so I could cry, while she kept
    telling me that she loved me and everything would be okay. I think that was the single closest
    moment we ever had. There's nobody quite like my mom."
    "Sam said you moved home to take care of your dad."
    "Yeah. He was crushed, an absolute mess when my mom was killed. Not that any husband
    wouldn't be, but they had something really special. He hadn't the foggiest idea what to do. It
    was like he was in some kind of daze. My big brother Frankie came home and had to take care
    of the funeral arrangements. My dad was just too lost to do any of it. When Frankie had to go
    back to New York City, he and I decided we couldn't leave Dad alone in the state he was in.
    So, I moved out of my apartment and came back home to look after him."
    "The poor man," Melanie whispered.
    Taylor nodded. "It was pretty awful to watch. This big, strong man who's always been my hero
    was reduced to nothing more than a sobbing child." Even now, Taylor shuddered at the picture
    her father had presented. His grief was the hardest thing with which she'd ever had to deal,
    aside from the actual loss of her mother. "Luckily, he pulled himself through in a few months.
    But, it wasn't easy."
    "You said you're not used to talking about your mom. Is that why? To spare him?"
    "Yeah, I'm afraid so. I know it's not the best way to deal with things, but it seems to work. I just kept telling myself to give it a little more time, give it a little more time. It's probably
    been long enough, but I've gotten so used to not talking about her that I still don't."
    Melanie nodded and said softly, "Well, she sounds wonderful. You must miss her."
    "Terribly."
    Taylor's dark eyes had misted, and Melanie laid a gentle hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. I
    shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't mean to upset you."
    Taylor looked down at her, and tucked the redhead's hand under her own arm, as if walking
    her down the aisle. "Don't apologize.
    I haven't talked about her much at all since she died, and that's probably not healthy. I need
    to talk about her. It's good for me. She deserves to be remembered, and for some strange
    reason, I feel really comfortable talking to you. So, thank you for asking." Melanie smiled her relief and Taylor asked, "What about you? Are you close to your parents?"
    "I guess you could say I'm pretty close to my mom, despite the fact that we don't have a
    whole lot in common. My dad's more of a passing presence in my life than a father." She said it with a half-grin, attempting to make light of the remark, but Taylor could see the faint
    shadow of old pain that shaded her pretty face. "My parents divorced when I was fourteen,
    and my father's