Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Kendall
“Mom, Blake is fine,” I said firmly. If I said those words enough, maybe I could will them into actual reality.
My loving, hapless mother twisted her hands and let out a soft sigh. “Thank you for picking him up.”
“Of course.” I kept my tone light, but tension was spinning inside.
“What do you think about him staying with you?”
My mouth dropped open. “No, Mom. I live in a studio apartment. I’m not sharing a single room with my brother, who can’t stop drinking too much.”
“I know, but—”
“Mom.” I narrowed my eyes at her. “No.”
I didn’t know the answer for Blake, but it wasn’t him staying with me. That was a recipe for resentment if there ever was one. I might end up hating him. And, I had done a lot of work to not hate him.
“You and Dad coddled Blake so badly that he’s a mess. You made five million excuses for him.” I bit back a sigh. “It’s fine. He will be fine.”
“When do you think he’s going to hit rock bottom?” my mom asked.
My dry chuckle was decidedly bitter. “Mom, I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
“Maybe…” she began.
I took a shaky breath and steeled myself.
“Maybe you and Dad could acknowledge how you—” I stopped, forcing myself to be careful with my words.
“I’m not blaming you directly for his alcoholism.
He’s obviously got to own his own shit. But you didn’t protect him, and by extension, you didn’t protect me. ”
Because while Blake was busy acting out and being a disaster when we were younger, my parents forgot about me. Now they wanted me to fix his life.
“Well, I can’t,” I said aloud.
Even though half of that thought process had been silent, my mom looked stricken, her eyes wide and glittering with tears. “Honey—” she began.
I shook my head sharply. “No. Don’t “honey” me. I know you love me, and I know you love Blake.” I almost sighed again, but I was running out of sighs. “You know what my therapist told me?”
“No,” she sniffled.
I handed her a napkin. We didn’t have tissues, so napkins had to do.
“The general consensus is it takes multiple generations to break a pattern in a family.”
My mom sighed. “I’m not sure what that means for us now.”
I snorted. This time, my laugh wasn’t bitter.
“Good point. I said the same thing to her.” I shook my head, pressing on.
“Blake has his cross to bear. We all do. But my point is, no one protected Blake. No one protected me. It’s just context to understand.
Patterns happen, and they’re hard to break.
Old habits die hard and all that, you know?
” I circled my hand in the air. “It seems to me you and Dad have taken the approach of thinking everything will be fine because you love us. I know you love us, but everything isn’t fine, and love isn’t enough. ”
She opened her mouth, but I pushed ahead.
“You need to love Blake enough to let him be accountable. I’m not saying you should kick him out.
I don’t think that’s a great plan, but maybe set some boundaries.
Be wild and have an expectation or two.” I folded my arms, watching her reaction.
“He’s living on your property in the apartment above the garage.
It’s okay to have a few standards. He claims that AA is helping him.
So… hold him accountable. He’s an adult. ”
“I know he’s an adult,” my mom said.
“Blake is not going to stay with me. That is absolutely, one hundred percent, out of the question. So don’t even ask me about that again.”
My mom nodded. She was quiet for a beat before lifting her glass to take a sip of her water.
I’d stopped in to see how my brother was doing. Three days had passed since I’d picked him up that morning.
“He’s been going to his groups,” she offered.
“Well, maybe it’ll turn out to be for the best that he got another DUI.” My mother’s eyes widened. “He’s going to get a probation officer. Finally. He needs somebody monitoring him. And don’t—”
She opened her mouth, and I held a finger up.
“He is not going to figure this shit out by being babied. Thus far, he hasn’t given any indication he can get sober and stay sober without external consequences.”
Travis put his head on my knee, and I absently stroked over it, scratching behind his ears.
He could sense my tension. I tended to be wound tight around my parents.
Ever since I’d been old enough to contemplate it, I had felt like the only adult in my family.
I’d been the little girl who tried to take care of everybody.
The ultimate people-pleaser, with a heavy dose of parentification thrown in.
My needs had always been shoved to the back.
My mother’s voice was small when she spoke again. “I’m sorry you felt like we didn’t protect you.”
“It’s fine, Mom. I know you loved me. I’m just saying, because of what happened, Blake was a hot mess.
I don’t even blame him, honestly. For a long time, I did.
He was a child, too. I kind of got lost in that shuffle.
It’s okay. I love you and Dad, but I have some boundaries now.
One of which is not letting my adult brother live in my tiny, one-room studio with me. ”
“You have a bathroom,” my mother pointed out.
“Oh, my God, Mom.” My laugh was exasperated now.
“I know, I know. You’re right.” Another sigh. So many sighs today. “Maybe we should all go to family therapy.”
“Nope. Nope, nope.” I shook my head. “I’m not going to family therapy. You and Dad could go with Blake. That might be a great idea.”
“But you’re part of our family.”
“Yep. I am. That’s just not something I’m going to do with you guys because I’ve been busy doing all the things for everyone for too many years.
Therapy is not the be-all and end-all. I’d like to be clear about that.
But what might help Blake is you just holding Blake accountable.
If you had another tenant above the garage, you wouldn’t be cool with them showing up drunk and not paying rent.
That would not be okay. So why should it be okay with your own son? ”
My brother was bright, and that was the only thing that got him through college.
And, shockingly, law school. He had blown out of his internship because he got drunk.
In a way, his intelligence hadn’t helped him.
Now, he couldn’t even hold a job. He was swimming in a river of shame.
“Blake is going to have to claw his way out of this, Mom. Somehow.”
I almost cried right then. I was just so fucking tired of being the most adult adult in my family.
I reached over, catching my mom’s hand and squeezing it. “It’s okay, Mom. Okay? I’m here. How are you?”
She brightened. “So, are you seeing anyone?”
Good grief, leave it to my mom to take this there. “No, Mom. I’m not dating anyone.”
Of course, the second she asked, my thoughts spun to Jude.
There was no way that could ever work. Right?