23. Chapter 23
23
The Rift Between Us
November 3rd
“Knock, knock,” I say as I open the door to my childhood home.
“Sweetie, is that you?” my dad asks as he rounds the corner. I barely have time to answer before he wraps his arms around me and squeezes. “Missed you, bug.”
Hearing that nickname always makes me emotional. My dad used to call me and my sister his lovebugs when we were little. I hated it when I was younger, but now, I think it’s beautiful that someone can love you so much, they want to give you your own special name.
“I missed you guys too.” I look around, seeing no sign of my sister. “Where’s Lizzie?”
“In her room. Her door is closed, so she probably didn't hear you come in.”
Or she’s avoiding me. She knew I was coming over today, and normally, she hangs out in the living room so she can meet me right at the door, but she’s not down here.
She’s most likely still upset about our conversation. I even answered the messages she sent me a week ago, and she only read them and didn't respond.
Lizzie and I have always been close, and I’d be a fucking liar if I said that this rift between us isn't stabbing me in the chest.
“Do you want help making dinner? I brought shit to make a salad, but I can multitask.”
My dad presses a kiss to my head. “You know I love sharing a kitchen with you, Ells.”
“Great. I’ll turn some music on and we can get started. What’s on the menu tonight?” I never know what my dad has in stock, so as I search the fridge and pantry, I find a few options. “What about burgers and some pasta salad?”
“That sounds good. I’ll boil some water and get started on the sauce.”
“Wonderful.” I smile as my dad and I start shuffling around one another as we cook. I think he’s the only person who doesn't piss me off while in the kitchen with me. We’ve been doing this since I was a teenager—cooking alongside one another—and it’s like we have our own unspoken dance when we’re in here. I love it.
After a few minutes of working quietly together, he speaks up. “Lizzie told me your mother is back.”
I should have known this was going to come up. “I heard.”
“I know how she feels, but how do you feel, El?”
“Jury’s still out.” I was fully prepared to say no, but what Paige and I talked about in the bathroom changed my view. I don’t know if I could do something in-person with her yet, but maybe a phone call or something.
When I say that in my head, it reminds me of all the times she could have called and didn't. I’m not going to blame myself for not reaching out, because I physically couldn't—she didn't leave her phone number when she walked out.
The phone works both ways. I’m sure if she wanted to, she could have found it somewhere. She sure as hell was able to remember our address after all these years, so she probably could remember a fucking phone number.
“You don't have to make a decision right now, Ella.”
But I do—to an extent. My sister is pissed it wasn't as easy for me to say yes to her offer of seeing our mother again. I don’t know how much longer I can handle the silent treatment.
“I don't know, Dad,” I say as I flip a burger.
“I get it, bug. You were older than Lizzie. You understood what was happening at that age more than most.”
I’ve heard that all my life. How mature I was for my age. How I always take care of others before myself. It was practically on every report card I got in school. And in every friend group, I’m the mom friend.
I don’t mind being that for everyone else, but sometimes, I want to be able to need someone without the guilt pouring into my lungs. I don’t know how to need other people. I’ve always relied on myself first and foremost in any situation. I’m independent as fuck, and even just the thought of settling down and being with someone for the rest of my life terrifies the fuck out of me.
But it sounds nice—loving someone forever, creating new memories and being able to reminisce on them decades in the future. All of my friends have found that kind of love, all except Amelia and me.
But Ames isn't around anymore, so it’s only me who’s alone.
Well, not alone, just not in love. As long as the girls and Grant exist, I won’t be alone. But it's different now—the group dynamic. It has changed and shifted in so many ways over the years.
“Ella?”
I shake out of my haze. “Sorry, what?”
“Can you go get your sister? Everything’s almost ready.”
I nod before I turn the burner off and head down the hall. I hear music playing softly as I knock.
“Come in,” she says. When she notices it’s me, her face drops. Wonderful .
“Dinner is almost ready.”
“Okay. I’ll be down in a second.”
I start to leave, but I stop myself. “Look, I don't want dinner to be uncomfortable.” I lean against her door frame, needing support to keep me upright. “With Mom coming back, I’ve been worried about the three of us.”
“Sure, Ella.”
“I’m serious, Lizzie.”
“Why are you always so worried about everything? We’re humans too. We can make our own decisions.”
I know that, but it doesn't stop the instinct to worry at the slightest change. Our mother coming back feels like we’re the ocean floor and she’s the anchor slamming down on us. “I know, sis, but I can’t just turn it off. It’s how I’m wired. It’s how I’ve been since she left the first time. I can’t help but try and protect you from things I think might hurt you.”
Her eyes soften, and I think she’s starting to understand my point of view, even if only a little. “But why can’t you be a little more open to it? For me?”
“I’m worried if she comes back and makes empty promises, it’ll leave us worse off than when we were younger. You didn't see Dad back then, Lizzie. He was working himself to the bone trying to support us. He’s in a good place now, and so are we. I don’t want her coming in and bursting the bubble we created.”
She takes a few seconds to think about what I said. “I understand, Ella. But I want to at least give her a chance. She’s been calling more and more, and I think she means what she’s saying.”
I still don't believe that, but I don’t think there's any way I can change her mind without making her get madder at me. “One phone call.”
Her eyes light up. “Really?”
“Yes, but you have to be there with me,” I tell her. I have a sinking feeling I’m going to regret this in a few weeks.
“Deal,” she says as she gives me a hug. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, sis.”