And then there was Avery. She loved her daughter to pieces but they were still at a somewhat awkward place—where Avery was trying to be an adult but wasn’t really there yet and Marina was trying to let her be an adult and sometimes failing. She supposed that was the normal dance of any mother and daughter, especially at this stage of life. And Marina knew she’d always be Avery’s mother and would never be able to stop the desire to make things better, but she was also looking forward to the time when they could be friends.

Then there were her parents. And boy was that a load.

Her father had died when she and Halcyon were only ten but she remembered him as being fun. Also irresponsible. He went months without acknowledging he had kids, then he’d show up one day with presents and play for an afternoon only to disappear again right after. Marina was fairly certain he had loved her but she was equally certain that he had no desire to be a parent. She’d cried when he died and still missed him sometimes, but her day-to-day life hadn’t really been affected by his death.

Her mother was the first and biggest of her relationship failures, and Marina had spent so many years thinking that was her fault. That’s the way Letitia had conditioned her to think. If only she’d been prettier or taller or quieter or smarter or whatever the adjective of the day was, then her mother would have loved her. Her entire childhood had been overshadowed by her attempts to gain her mother’s approval, and even once she’d gotten old enough to realize that was never going to happen, she’d never been able to completely cut the umbilical cord until recently.

As Letitia had gotten older and nastier, Marina had finally admitted to herself that she’d never been anything to her mother except the scheme that hadn’t worked. Letitia had lied about being on birth control so that she could get pregnant, figuring a baby would woo her father away from Constance and turn him into the white-picket-fence guy. It was the worst plan ever. For anyone. But especially for the children who only existed as a strategic move by a selfish adult.

Marina knew all of this because Letitia had told her the story when she was a teenager. Repeatedly. And in great detail. Her mother’s point was that Marina didn’t want to make the same mistakes she’d made and be saddled with a whiny kid for all the good years of her life. That’s exactly how she’d put it. “Saddled.” Letitia had never let Marina doubt that the best years of her life had been stolen from her because she’d had to raise a child.

So that relationship was finally where it needed to be. As shallow as a teaspoon of water.

Marina would see to it that her mother had care until she passed but she wasn’t going to pretend any longer that there was any love there. Letitia wasn’t capable.