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She’ll probably be happy you’re leaving.
It’s sad that the best outcome from this is having your own mother be happy that you’re moving across the country so she doesn’t have to deal with you. She can start picking out new curtains and paint swatches to convert my room into a guest suite. I know that’s what she wants it for. She is always good at one thing—making sure you know exactly how she feels about you.
I’ve rehearsed this conversation in my head a million times, but nothing ever prepares me for a conversation with her. Even when I try to blindside her, it still feels like she’s two steps ahead.
I clear my throat. “Hi,” I say, leaning against the couch.
She doesn’t say anything.
“What are you watching?” I ask, trying again.
“Look at the TV and figure it out yourself.”
She’s in a mood. Great.
I have to do this today. I have to start packing and getting things ready. She’d lose her mind if she saw my things being boxed up without an explanation.
“Well, can you pause it?” I ask.
Finally, she turns her attention to me. “Why?” she asks, her eyes narrowed.
“I have to talk to you guys about something.”
She doesn’t pause her show, but she’s still looking at me, so I take that as she is going to listen.
My dad still has his nose in his phone.
“Dad, you too.”
I wait for him to look up and then begin.
“Maggie and I have an opportunity to move to New York. She transferred to NYU. They have a great art program.”
“New York?” Dad questions.
“Yeah. We’ll be living in Brooklyn.”
“Will be?” Eloise pitches in now.
I scratch my head. “We found an apartment. We signed a lease yesterday. I leave in eleven days.”
“What?” Dad shakes his head.
“I know it’s out of the blue but—”
“You’ve done a lot of stupid things in your life, Billie, but this is the most ridiculous of all.”
Eloise’s sharp tone has my hands trembling.
“It’s not ridiculous,” I defend.
“Oh, so you have a job? A real job, not some server position that losers hold onto for life.”
“Not yet, but I have applications sent out and an interview at a coffee shop the day after I arrive.”
“Oh!” she yelps sarcastically. “A coffee shop—what a great waste of time! You don’t know how to survive in the real world,” she hisses.
“Of course I don’t. I just graduated last year. That’s what going out and experiencing life is for—to learn how to not survive, but live a life that you love.”
