Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
DYLAN
THANKSGIVING IS MUCH more enjoyable when you don’t spend it with your family.
There used to be a service at our local church that my dad was adamant we all attend.
That meant he expected us to be dressed in our formal clothes by seven a.m. sharp on a Thursday.
It was exhausting back then, but I’ll never forget how our whole family spent the entire day together.
There wasn’t one moment from morning to night that we were apart.
Looking back, I realize that it was one of the only times we were together and happy.
Today, I’m not with my parents, but I feel happier than I ever am with them.
Instead of a Thanksgiving turkey, Sierra’s dad made roast duck. He called it a Russian tradition, but I think he just went to the supermarket too late. Sierra told me they never do a traditional Thanksgiving, but since they found out I was coming, they wanted to impress me.
I didn’t think they even liked me that much, let alone would want to make a good impression.
“You know, you’re the first boyfriend Sierra’s invited over,” her mom says after we gather in the living room to watch highlights from the ISU Grand Prix. The one we’ll be competing in pretty soon.
Sierra groans. “Mom, please don’t.”
“And the first boy who can make her blush,” her dad adds.
“Is that right?” I look at a red-faced Sierra. She rolls her eyes and instead grabs my arms to pull me with her.
“We’ll be upstairs,” she says. I send an apologetic look to her parents, but they don’t seem to mind.
“Babe, I don’t think we should be up here when they made us a whole dinner,” I say.
“They won’t mind.” She waves a hand. “Now tell me why you’re being so weird.”
I give her a look. “I thought you brought me up here to make out.”
“Stop trying to distract me. You’re quiet; I can tell you’re thinking about something. Is it your mom?”
It scares me when she does that sometimes. No one’s ever been able to read me so easily.
“She hasn’t picked up? Try again,” she says seriously. “I can stay here with you.”
I’m about to refuse, deny that I’m thinking about her, but I can’t. Sierra’s right. “I think I should do this on my own.” I’m going to call my dad, and I don’t want her to hear any of the shit he might say.
She nods and steps out of the room before lightly closing the door behind her.
My dad picks up on the first ring, and I’m caught off guard for a second.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted that night,” I say quickly before I’m sure it won’t come out and I’ll come to my fucking senses.
The last thing he deserves is an apology, but this isn’t for him.
It’s for my mom. I just can’t hold this animosity anymore.
I’m so fucking tired of it. “I have my feelings about your relationship, but that didn’t solve anything. That’s not me anymore.”
The line is dead silent, and I have to check if the call is still connected.
“I appreciate that,” my father says after a long minute. “But …” He pauses like the words come with great difficulty. “You were right.”
“What?”
“I’ve screwed it all up. We had a beautiful family, and I ruined everything.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s been crying. For a split second, I wonder if he’s actually changed, if my mom was right, but his next words crush all of that.
“Your mother left, Dylan. She gave me the divorce papers, and said if I couldn’t respect her, she needed to respect herself. For her kids. She left the night of the vow renewal.”
I stand from the bed, clutching the phone tightly. “What do you mean left?” I ask. “Where did she go?”
“I’m not sure, all I know is she’s gone. There isn’t a trace of her in this house anymore.”
“You’re telling me this now?” I shout. “Where the fuck is she?”
“A hotel? I don’t know, son, I just—I’m sorry. I—”
I hang up and dial my mom. I couldn’t care less what he has to say to me. If what he’s saying is true, then he’s not my problem; he’s not any of our problems.
“Where are you?” I say as soon as the call connects.
“Dyl.” It’s my sister. “I’m so happy you called.”
“Ada, why are you answering Mom’s phone? Where is she?”
“She’s with me. We’re at a hotel in West Hartford. I was going to call you, but she didn’t want me to. She said you were finally away from it, and she’d hate to drag you back.”
That’s why she didn’t call. She thought I was done with her. “I’m coming to get you,” I say when Sierra tiptoes back in with a curious gaze. She must have heard how loud I was talking.
There’s some shuffling, and I can hear Ada speaking in Turkish before my mom’s voice is on the line. “Dylan, I’m fine. Don’t ruin your Thanksgiving for me.”
“It won’t be ruined, Mom. I want to see you. I’ll come get you.”
Sierra nudges me. “They can come here. My parents won’t mind,” she whispers. Before I can even think of refusing, Sierra gives me her most serious look. The one that tells me not to defy her.
“Sierra says you’re welcome to come to her parents’ house.”
My mom’s speaking in Turkish, refusing again, saying something about not wanting to ruin my day with my girlfriend. Ada takes the phone again. “We’ll be there. But don’t come. We’ll get an Uber.”
“I’ll send you one,” I say, and I hang up before they can refuse. Ada texts me the address and in minutes I’ve got them in a car.
“She left,” I tell Sierra. “She actually left him, and she didn’t tell me.”
“I think she knew how much it hurt you,” Sierra says. “She loves you, Dylan. But you have to remember she did this for herself in her own time. Sometimes, it takes a while to finally love yourself enough. Maybe that’s what she’s been trying to do this whole time.”
I let her words sink in. When my phone buzzes with a notification, we go downstairs to tell Sierra’s parents. They’re more than happy to meet my mom. They tease Sierra about it being her future svekrov.
When they arrive, the sight of my mom lodges something in my throat. I hug them both, and my mom is trying not to cry. She’s just left the life she tried to fix for so long. Sierra and her parents take Ada with them, leaving me and my mom alone.
“Why now?” I ask her.
My mom looks at me, and for the first time in years, I don’t see the exhaustion weighing her down. Despite the tears in her eyes, there’s something else, something like resolve.
“I was scared, kuzum,” she says softly. “I was always taught to hold the family together, to weather any storm, and I tried so hard, hoping that someday it would change. That he’d regret letting himself wander and he’d come back to me,” she says.
“But then I saw your face at the vow renewal, and I was so angry when you hit him.”
“I’m s—”
“Angry that he drove you to that. That you felt so helpless that you had to resort to physical violence. I’ve seen your games, Dylan.
I know you’d get into fights on the ice, and I brushed it off.
You never deserved that, askim.” Her voice cracks, and she glances away, trying to hold it together.
“You and your sister are my strength, but I needed to find my own. I’m sorry it took so long. ”
I exhale, and it feels like I’ve been holding my breath since I was a kid. “Still, you didn’t have to do it alone.”
“I know,” she whispers. “But I think you’ve spent your whole life trying fix things. It was nice to see you letting someone hold you together.” For a moment, we just stand there, the years of tension and silence between us cracking open.
“I’m proud of you,” I finally say.
Her lip quivers, and it hits me how much she truly had to let go. She still loves him, I can see that, but just one look at her, and she appears stronger. My mom pulls me into a hug, pressing her face to my shoulder like she used to after I had my growth spurt. “Me too.”
When she lets go, I glance toward the kitchen, where Sierra’s and Ada’s laughter echoes. My mom follows my gaze, her expression softening.
“She’s good for you,” she says, her voice steadier now.
I smile. “She is.”
For the first time in years, I feel like the shadows don’t linger. Maybe this is what starting over feels like.