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Always armed with a backhanded comment.
“I’m working in the bookshop this morning. How are you?” My teeth snap together, and I’m glad I haven’t had a face-to-face conversation with her in too long.
“Your father wants to know if you’ll be coming home for Sarah’s birthday?” Mom asks curtly, like I should be the one keeping on top of their calendars.
No answer to my question, no wondering how I am or how the town is where she’d visited my grandmother frequently before they abandoned her.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to with everything I need to do here.” Chewing on my lip until I nearly draw blood, I wait for her response.
The cluck of her tongue on the other end doesn’t bode well. “You know, we haven’t seen you in months, Gabrielle. It’d be nice if you put a family function first one of these days.”
My chin meets my chest, and I pull the phone away from my ear to let the little gust of breath out without my mom hearing it. She said those words as if they didn’t feel like taking a bullet to the chest.
How many times have I put my family first, above all others? How many times have I broken my back to go above and beyond for the simplest things for her and my father? When my siblings refused to step up and it all fell on me, or how I sacrificed my wants and needs for years to please them and show up at the drop of a hat. It’s like none of it registered or mattered to her.
Guilt is my parent’s love language, and I’ve put up with it for far too long. The distance of being in Hope Crest has made it so clear for me to see, and now I don’t want to put myself back in that situation again.
“I understand that, but I’m trying to fulfill Grandma’s wishes and I want to do them right.” I try to muster all the patience in my body.
“It’s not like your grandmother understood the role of family. And Sarah will be pretty upset if you don’t show.”
My sister Sarah and I aren’t close. As much as I hoped to be the best big sister I could be to my siblings, our parents’ constant expectations and pitting us in competition against each other left sour tastes in our mouths. By the time I left for college and felt like I could finally breathe, I’d left behind most of home and the relationships I had there, including, unfortunately, my siblings. Now that we are all adults, we live our own lives and check in rarely with a text or two.
Sarah won’t miss me one iota at whatever family dinner my parents are pressuring her into.
As for the comment about my grandmother, I have to bite my tongue. Arguing will get me nowhere.
“I apologize, Mom, give everyone my best. I just know I won’t be able to make it.” I squeeze my fist at my side, willing myself not to make any more excuses.
I’m an adult and don’t have to justify my actions to anyone, even my parent.
“That’s really disappointing, Gabrielle. We expect more of you. Your family won’t be around forever, your father and I won’t be around forever.”
There it is, the final blow. Anytime my mother feels like she isn’t getting what she wants, she throws out the mortality card.
“I understand. Tell Sarah happy birthday. Goodbye, Mom.”
Hanging up before she can say more is something I’ll be scolded about on my next phone call, but I can’t bring myself to worry about it right now.
A tear rolls down my cheek as I inhale and exhale deeply. Even though I stood my ground, the guilt and disappointment still slice through me like sharpened arrows. Shedding that perfect daughter personality has been one of the hardest things I’ve done to date; just because we want to overcome our trauma doesn’t mean it won’t haunt us around every corner.
Case in point, the fact that I couldn’t let myself experience an attraction that might change my life because it went against every traditional value and moral my parents tried to hammer into me.
Denying myself something with Liam stems from those responsibilities. Those expectations that I, the eldest child, would do every single thing in my life in the right order. Go to college, get good grades, graduate with honors, meet a solid choice for a partner, date for a while, only move in together after we get engaged, get married, buy a house, and have children. Raise those children under the same guidelines.
My parents are traditional; they followed the exact same timeline. Throughout the years, my mother was constantly pressuring me to stick to that laid-out plan. I don’t even want to get into how disappointed she is that I am still single and childless. That’s less than ideal for the girl who always tried to live up to those standards.
Falling for one of my students? That would have been an abomination in her mind. Doing long distance with someone three years younger than me? My father would have made mention of it every time we spoke. Back then, there was no world in which I could have fathomed starting something with Liam after he graduated, even when we’d done nothing wrong while I was his teacher.
Even now, it feels like a betrayal of the values my parents tried so hard to stick me with. Dating someone who used to attend the school I taught at? Getting into a hookup situation at thirty-five with a man I’m not sure even wants a family or the things my parents preached about? Moving to his small town to stay with him when my parents expected to have the kind of family who stayed close even if they couldn’t stand each other?
Rationally, I know I’m making up excuses. I know that I disappointed their expectations a long time ago. I also know that my parents are human, that they are wrong a lot, and don’t deserve the pedestal I put them on. At the same time, though, I can’t let go of the girl inside me who just wants to please them. Because I’m human too.
Letting go of those ridiculous notions is also terrifying because once there is nothing more holding me back from giving in to the undeniable chemistry Liam and I have …
I’m so scared I’ll fall head over heels for that brooding, rough man. He could be the key to getting everything I ever wanted, but I simply can’t get past the mental block to allow that to happen.
8
