Chapter Twenty-Nine Lucy #2
“Mom is ridiculous,” Katherine says. “Don’t let her dictate what you are and are not.
If you want to do it, you should do it.” Katherine shrieks and for a split second, I think she’s laughing at me.
That she’s going to say, Kidding! Of course you can’t go to law school.
Who do you think you are? “Have you still got that bowl on your coffee table?”
I glance over at the brown glass bowl Mom bought me as a graduation present.
“Turn the camera around,” Katherine says. “I bet you still have it.”
“It was a gift!” I say, trying to defend myself.
“It’s disgusting. Have you seen it, Ed?” Ed shakes his head. “Show Ed. You’ll die when you see how ugly it is. I swear it was such a weird gift. Especially when I got a Tiffany necklace when I graduated.”
I’d expected to receive the same exact gift my parents had given Katherine when she’d graduated two years earlier: a silver necklace with a heart hanging from it.
When I unwrapped the sludge-colored bowl, I told myself I shouldn’t have expected a gift in the first place, and not loving the bowl was ungrateful.
“Did you ask for the bowl?” Katherine asked.
“Did I ask for a brown bowl as a graduation gift?” I ask her, wanting her to really listen to the question she’s asking me.
“I asked for the Tiffany necklace,” Katherine says.
Katherine’s statement takes me by surprise. It didn’t occur to me to ask for anything. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d asked. I still would have gotten the bowl.” I grab it from the table and hold it up so Ed can see.
He wrinkles his nose.
“Why do you have it out?” Katherine asks. “To torture yourself?”
It’s a good question. I hate the bowl. I’ve always hated it. But Mom picked it out herself. I had to have it out, didn’t I?
“What if Mom comes over and it’s not out?”
“When’s the last time she came to your apartment? Hell, when’s the last time she came to New York City?”
I know the exact time. “When I moved in here.”
“Oh, God, yeah, and she brought that awful mirror she’d been given by the neighbor across the street who died the next day.”
“What?” I ask.
“Was it Betty? Or Beverley? You know, the woman across the street. She gave Mom the mirror, and then Mom gave it to you as a housewarming gift because she didn’t want it.”
Three years that horrible mirror has been in my hallway because I thought my mom had bought it for me with thought and love, and because she wanted me to look nice when I left my apartment.
But it was none of those things. She was basically using my apartment as a recycling center when she gave it to me.
“Don’t tell me you still have that up, too?” Katherine hoots with laughter.
But it’s not funny. Not to me. The mirror. The bowl. They’re symbols of how Mom pretends to care. Pretends to show affection when what’s she’s doing is exactly the opposite.
“What did you get as a wedding present from Mom and Dad?” I ask.
“Oh, just some cash,” Katherine says casually.
“A lot of cash,” Ed says. “Too much.”
“Paid for the honeymoon. And a bit more,” Katherine mumbles. She’s seen the different way Mom treats us, and she knows she gets the better end of the bargain. I don’t blame her for not rocking the boat.
I happen to know the honeymoon was over twenty-five thousand dollars.
I also know Mom and Dad have paid at least the same toward the cost of the wedding, despite Ed saying they were going to cover it themselves.
Since when did my parents have money like that sitting around?
I’m certain they don’t have another twenty-five grand saved for when I get married.
My mom will probably raid the local flee market and give me an old shoe or something as my wedding gift.
It’s not about the money, of course. It’s about the fact Katherine gets treated differently.
Like I’m an afterthought. I wouldn’t mind if Mom had given me a pebble off the beach for my graduation, if it had been heartfelt.
But the brown bowl didn’t come from her heart, and neither did the hallway mirror.
“Have you told them you’re moving?” I ask, wondering if that will shift the dynamic. My mother might give Katherine more attention, but she’s still controlling and overbearing.
“Not yet, but we got an offer accepted on a place,” Katherine says.
“That’s great,” I say. “So you’ll be moving soon?”
“Hopefully we’ll be in and settled before the holidays.”
It’s obvious, but it hits me that Katherine will spend the holidays married for the first time this year. She has obligations to Ed during those times now. Of course, Mom might still try her best to get them over to her house, but already I see the pull Mom has over Katherine has loosened.
Katherine has her own family now.
I don’t know where that leaves me. I can’t bear the thought of spending Thanksgiving back in Boston with a mother whom I know would prefer to be hosting Katherine than me.
A huge urge to clear everything out hits me.
I need headspace so that positive things can grow inside me.
“I gotta go,” I say. “Keep sending the pictures. Love you.” I blow a kiss to the screen, and before Katherine can say anything, I end our call.
I jump to my feet, swipe my graduation present off the couch and stalk out of my living room.
I take my keys and unhook the mirror from the wall again.
I’d rather have a blank wall than a mirror from a dead neighbor whose name we can’t even remember.
I shove my feet back into my shoes, and I head down to the sidewalk.
The restaurant two doors down the street is putting out its trash for the day.
I don’t think twice before I tip the bowl and the mirror into the metal trash can.
I should have done that a long time ago.
Neither of those things meant anything to my mother. And they don’t mean anything to me. Nothing good, anyway.
I get back into my apartment, grab my laptop, and hit “Reply” on the email to Sharon. What have I got to lose by saying I’d like to be considered for a scholarship? Okay, so I might not get it, but my mom’s never going to know. Katherine doesn’t even have to know. I don’t have to tell anyone.
Sharon replies immediately, saying she’s pleased I’ve made that choice and she’ll be in touch with more details.
It feels good. It feels like I made a decision based on what I want rather than what everyone else thinks about me.
Okay, so maybe I’m not entirely confident about going to law school.
Hell, I’m not entirely confident about sitting for the LSAT.
But one thing I know for sure is that Sharon is smart.
Maybe she sees something in me I don’t see in myself.
I’m learning I can’t always trust what I believe about myself, but while I’m figuring that out, I can let myself trust people who see the best in me.
It’s what my mom should have done my whole life, instead of comparing me with Katherine and putting me down.
I can’t change her, and I can’t change the past. But I can start building a future based on who I am today, instead of the walking disaster Mom seems to want me to be.
I grab the LSAT study book and start at chapter one.