“I’m willing to live with the consequences of the decisions I make. I’ve always valued independence—you know that. I’m sure many people considered me selfish traveling the world when I had a young child at home, and maybe I was, but it was my job and I loved it. The Summer Seekers was part of me. Is it selfish to sometimes put your own needs first? I don’t think so. I was a mother, but not only a mother. A wife, but not only a wife. And of course, if I’d been a man, no one would have questioned it. The rules were always different for men, although I hope that’s changing now. Progress.”

“I don’t look at it the way you do. I’m part of a family.”

“Family can be your priority without you waiting on them hand and foot.” She expected her daughter to argue with her and defend the way she lived her life, but instead Liza slumped a little.

“I know. And I don’t know how it got to be this way. I think it’s because it’s simpler to do things myself because then they get done.”

“And if things don’t get done, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“I end up unraveling the mess, which is usually more work than if I’d done it in the first place.” Liza finished her coffee. “Let’s not have this conversation.”

Given that the conversation was starting to veer toward the personal, something Kathleen made a point of avoiding, she readily agreed. There was an awkward silence. “I hear Sean in the kitchen.”

“I’ll make breakfast.” They spoke at the same time and Liza stood up quickly, knocking the table and sending the remains of Kathleen’s coffee sloshing onto the table. She paused, seemed about to say something and then turned and walked back into the kitchen.

Kathleen stared after her for a moment feeling frustration and regret.

She’d thought that her travels would make her daughter more independent and in a way that had been the case. Liza had learned to cook and care for the home. She’d provided the cozy warmth that Kathleen hadn’t. What was lacking was emotional independence. Liza had become insecure and clingy when Kathleen had returned from her trips.

Was that why her daughter had married so young? Had she been seeking security?

Kathleen had taken the opposite approach. She hadn’t married until she was forty and even then it was on the third time of asking. She felt a strange pressure in her chest and realized it was grief. It had been five years since Brian had died, but still she missed him terribly.