10. Frederick
10
FREDERICK
T he green ivy crawling up my mom's house, the flowers in the garden, and the brick pathway leading to the front door fill me with great memories from childhood. It was my view every day during the summer, when long days were spent outside, riding bikes, rollerblading with friends, and running through the sprinklers.
I'm not ready to go inside. Sitting parked on the driveway sounds like a much better idea. I jump when my phone dings. Good luck today. You're going to do great.
Thank you. I will talk to you after and let you know how it went. Fingers crossed.
I was relieved when Rochelle didn’t insist on coming with me. It’s one less thing for me to worry about.
I ascend the brick stairs to the front door with a nervous knot in my stomach.
"Hey, guys," I shout as I kick my shoes off.
"We're in here," my uncle calls from the sitting room. I hang my jacket and practice my lines. I met someone. She's wonderful, her name is Rochelle. I stroll down the hallway at a snail's pace. She's from Texas. I am so close I can hear them talking. We are getting married. I would love for you to meet her.
Every curtain in the sitting room is open, filling the space with an inviting brightness that starkly contrasts my mood.
"Hello, darling." My mom stands and hugs me. Her head rests right in the middle of my chest. I don't squeeze her too tight. She's so tiny I'm afraid I will crack her ribs.
"Hi, Mom." Her silver-streaked chestnut hair is impeccably styled, falling in soft waves around her shoulders. She's always been big on appearance.
"Oh, careful, my nails are wet. Lorena just left." Lorena has been coming to the house to do my mom's nails and hair for as long as I can remember. She's practically part of the family.
"Nice to see you, Frederick." I turn around, and Uncle Theron raises his arm for a firm handshake.
"Hey. Your nails wet, too?"
"No manicure today, just a little trim on the old beard." He laughs.
His laugh is deep and matches his stature. He’s tall and strong, with a full, now trimmed beard. Besides their hazel eyes, Theron and my mom don't look anything alike.
"Can I get you something to drink?" he asks.
"No, I'm fine. Thank you."
A large plush sectional with luxurious neutral tones is the focal point of the sitting room. There are too many throw pillows to count, all covered in intricate patterns and textures. My mom sits down neatly, and my uncle quickly follows as he swipes his brown hair out of his eyes.
A beautiful vase of fresh flowers sits in the center of the glass coffee table. I sit across from them, hoping the flowers will distract them from looking too closely at me.
The last thing I need is for them to notice something is up. I pucker my lips, and my forehead breaks into a sweat when I lie.
I stare past them at the fireplace and lose myself in memories. This room reminds me of Christmas. My cousins and I would run around in our pajamas while Christmas carols filled the room. My parents and Theron sat on the couch, watching us with smiles. Wrapping paper, ribbons, toys, and boxes littered the floors. The room smelled like pine and hot chocolate.
I loved Christmas at home when I was younger. Now, things feel different. This room feels different.
I don't know what's happened throughout the years. Maybe it's our difference in opinion regarding money or the loss of my dad. Whatever it is, I don't feel as close to my mom anymore.
"Oh, Frederick, I forgot to tell you the other day. I was playing tennis at the country club and ran into Margo." I snap out of my trance and look at her, confused.
"Who?"
"Margo! You remember Margo. We met in college, she was my maid of honor. I know I've talked to you about her. Anyways, she and her family moved back here a few months ago."
"That's nice, Mom." I guess.
"Margo has a daughter who is about your age. Her name is Olivia," Theron interjects.
"I wanted to tell him!" My mom looks at me. Her smile is so wide that her white teeth practically blind me. I immediately see where they're going with this and want to put a kibosh on it.
"That's actually why I am here. I have to talk to you guys about something."
Theron smiles almost as wide as my mom. "Atta boy. You're finally ready to trust your mom and me with your love life. You know we only have the best intentions for you."
"Not exactly."
My mom raises her eyebrows and tucks her perfectly kept hair behind her ears. Theron's face goes from excited to expressionless. "I've been seeing someone. Her name is Rochelle." The words fly out of my mouth.
"What do you mean you're seeing someone?" My mom pulls at the hem of her cardigan. She looks at Theron and back to me. "Since when?"
"Yeah, since when?" Theron's face is still expressionless, but his arms are crossed firmly over his puffed-out chest.
"Um, a few weeks ago. We met at the park. You guys are really going to like her. She's great."
"And what does Rochelle do for a living?" Theron asks, already preparing himself to dislike my answer.
"She's a hostess at a lovely bistro and plays piano there, too. She's extremely talented."
"Does she play anywhere else? Or just in a restaurant?" My mom's voice is laced with judgment.
"Not yet, but with her talent, I could picture her playing huge venues one day." Theron snickers.
"Does her family live in town?" My mom sits up and scoots to the edge of the couch.
"Her stepdad lives in Texas. That's where she's from. But he's a bad man who never treated Rochelle nicely. Her mom passed away a few years ago. She doesn't have any family." Theron and my mom both roll their eyes.
"She's the one, you guys. I am head over heels in love with her, and we are getting married." My mom's eyes bug out and her mouth opens, but she's silent.
"Are you purposely trying to make us look bad? You know how this will look to the family if you marry a hostess who plays piano." Theron's face is tomato red.
"Why can't I want to work hard and earn a good living? I have more than enough of everything to live a happy life. If that's enough for me, can't it be enough for you guys?"
"There's no such thing as enough. Look at your cousin Darren. He had everything and then married that gold digger without a prenup. She popped out two kids and took him for everything he had." He laughs. "Now he's living in an apartment in the city. An apartment !" He makes it sound like that's the worst thing on the planet.
I look to my mom, hoping she will back me up. Her mouth is still open, and tears well in her eyes.
"I'll take my chances. I'm not Cousin Darrin. I am my own person. I just wish you guys would let me live my life and make my own mistakes."
I stand up and sit next to my mom. "Please, have some faith in me. Mom, come on. You loved Dad with all your heart. Could you imagine if someone would have told you when you were younger that you couldn't marry him because he wasn't of your status?"
She clutches the gold chain around her neck where her wedding ring hangs.
"Don't do that, Frederick. Don't upset your mother by bringing up your dad," Theron yells.
"Mom, I am twenty-seven years old, and you have controlled almost every aspect of my life. I had to fight you about the college I went to. I had to fight you when it came to my profession, and now I'm fighting with you about my love life."
My mother stares off, unable to comprehend my words.
"Mom! Can you please say something?"
She clears her throat. “Your uncle is right,” she begins shakily. “This doesn't look good. You have to think about this more. I hate to say it, but money matters, status matters. You can't go marrying just any girl off the street.”
“Damn right, money matters. It matters so much that I can't give you the castle in Austria now,” Theron warns. “It's too risky to give to you if you won’t see reason about marrying a woman who is clearly using you for your money.”
I bite my tongue to remain calm. "We are talking about love." I stand up. "This is the person I will spend the rest of my life with. It's the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. How many dates have you guys tricked me into going on?"
My mom and uncle look at each other.
"A lot, and I didn't like any of them. I found someone that I love,” I say in a tone that makes it clear I will not concede on this point.
Their silence is deafening, and now I almost wish Theron would continue yelling.
I'll give you guys some time to digest this." I swiftly kiss my mom on the cheek before heading to the front door. As I slip my shoes on, I pull my phone out of my pocket to text Rochelle.
Things didn't go great. I’ll fill you in later.