Chapter 22
Amy was mortified in a way she had not been since Jonah had burped loudly in the middle of a memorial. She could not believe that Harrison had been on hand to witness the utter ridiculousness of her family.
She felt herself melting in defeat. Her family was so problematic. How had she never realized just how problematic? She knew they were a bit much, but this was too much; they were practically stalking her!
It was her fault. All her fault.
She picked up her phone and called Julie. Julie answered on the third ring, breathing heavily.
“What are you doing?”
“Running on the treadmill,” Julie said. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to keep my family from ruining my life.”
“You mean they haven’t already?” Amy heard the beeps of the treadmill as Julie powered it down. “So what happened?”
“First of all, my mother showed up with the Bossy Posse after running into your mother,” Amy said accusingly.
“Yeah, I heard about that,” Julie said. “Sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“I know, I know,” Julie said. “But what was I supposed to do? My mother owns the house, you know. Not me.”
“Okay, but you could have at least given me a heads-up, Julie.”
“I couldn’t have. By the time I heard about it, they were already there. And I didn’t call you then because I was afraid of you.”
Amy rolled her eyes. “And then my brother and dad show up.”
“No way! They came with the Posse?”
“No! They came today.”
“Are they crazy? It’s supposed to snow.”
“Mom and Dad are having some sort of issue, like, I’m worried they are thinking of divorcing. And Kevin is just…Kevin.”
“Your parents are getting a divorce?” Julie practically shrieked into the phone.
“No! But maybe. I don’t know, but they are having a big, ongoing fight.”
“I’m sorry, Amy. That sucks.”
“Yeah,” Amy said morosely. “Why does it have to be this week? They cannot leave me alone. It’s like it is physically impossible for them to leave me the hell alone.”
“Well, you’ve always been the center,” Julie said matter-of-factly. “You’re the family lodestar.”
“I am not the family lodestar. We don’t even have a lodestar.”
“Sure you are! Even Ryan is still trying to tag along with you.”
There was a soft knock at the door, and she turned. Harrison was standing on the threshold. It was sleeting, and he was getting wet.
“For heaven’s sake, come in,” she said, gesturing for him to enter.
“Who’s that?” Julie asked.
“A friend,” Amy said. “I’ll call you back?”
“A frieeend,” Julie repeated, giggling.
It was amazing how quickly they could revert to middle school. “Bye, Julie,” she said, and clicked off.
“I hope you didn’t end the call because of me. I don’t want to disturb you.”
“You’re way too late for that,” Amy said with a wry smile. “My family beat you to it. And may I add they have disturbed me greatly.”
“I can see how that might be. I myself was not expecting another…” He rubbed his chin, as if thinking of the right word.
“Invasion?” Amy offered helpfully.
“Yeah, that.”
“Me either,” she said, and sank down onto the bed. “I owe you an apology, Harrison. I am beginning to think it’s my fault that this has happened.”
“Your fault? How do you figure?”
“Because I’m the one everyone in the family comes to with problems. Or entertainment.
Or gatherings, no matter how big or small.
Worse, I’ve trained them to do that.” It was becoming clear to her, how she’d invited this behavior over the years.
“Come over and let’s talk,” she’d say to her mother or father or brother.
Hell, even to Ryan after they split. She took it upon herself to host family gatherings at holidays and special occasions because, as she’d said more than once, it just made sense.
How did it make sense? And no one ever argued with her.
“I didn’t consciously do it, but the situation has evolved, to the point that they don’t think anything of trampling on my time. ”
“You obviously care a lot about them,” Harrison said.
“But the thing is, I don’t know if I can change myself without changing my entire family. I think in order for me to change, we all have to change.”
“Don’t say that,” Harrison said. “If you talked to them, I’m sure they’d understand your desire to grow.”
“Really? Because they didn’t understand this week when I asked them to give me this time.
They are bringing their problems to me anyway.
Why have I not realized this before?” She began to pace.
“I am the center of the family because I put myself there, and they expect me to solve their issues. Why did I allow them to become so dependent on me?” Why hadn’t she ever even questioned it?
She could remember, even at the age of twelve years old, mediating an argument between Kevin and her mother.
How was she supposed to become an artist, and all that entailed, when her role in the family was so embedded in all their lives?
She should have known that she couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t magically transform herself into being the artist she had fancied herself to be in her twenties.
Sure, she could paint as a hobby, but to make a serious run at it?
To put in the time and effort that it required?
Just to capture the ideas in her brain and transfer it to something recognizable on a canvas took more time than a few hours here and there.
She needed to sit with it, to think through the art.
That felt impossible if there was someone constantly seeking her approval or opinion or permission or help.
She had waited too long to pursue this dream. She was too old now.
She turned and looked at Harrison. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Can’t do what, exactly?”
“Become an artist. I can dabble. I can make it my hobby. But I can’t be one. Or at least not the one I’ve held in my head. I can’t recapture who I was thirty years ago, not without disappointing a lot of people.”
He frowned. “What about disappointing yourself?”
His question landed with a sickening thud in her gut. Disappointment was something she lived with constantly, existing on the edge of her thoughts. It was that gnawing feeling that she’d given up too much of herself. “I think that ship has sailed,” she said quietly.
“Hey, hey,” he said, and came forward to put his arms around her. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just saying that your wants deserve consideration, too—it’s your life, after all. I think maybe you’re getting too into your head.”
That was exactly what Julie would say. It was possible—she sort of routinely allowed her thoughts to gallop away from her. But she was also a pragmatist and couldn’t really see the situation another way.
“Change is so damn hard at this stage of life,” he said, and rested his chin on the top of her head. “When you’re twenty, who cares if you blow through money or make a course correction? When you’re fifty, there is too much riding on a whim.”
“Tell me about it,” she muttered into his chest. It occurred to her he was having the same sort of issue. She looked up at him. “So what about you? I’ve been complaining about my family for so long that I forgot to ask how it’s going for you.”
“The knee is feeling pretty good. Probably need to knock out eighteen holes and test it out.”
“That’s great news.” She was truly happy for him if his knee was healing. But if his knee was healing to the point that he was ready to play again, it raised other questions. Personal, private, and potentially devastating questions. “So…you’re going to Scotland?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“No?”
He sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t feel as if I know myself right now. I never thought I’d be staring down the barrel at fifty and not know myself. But I don’t know what I want.”
“Maybe you know yourself too well, and it’s the choices that aren’t living up to the game. Or maybe I am projecting.”
He chuckled. “Project away. Maybe I’ll find a kernel of an idea that will lead me to an answer.
” He sat on the cot, caught her hand in his.
“I think I’m grappling with a fear of failure, which is sort of strange, as I’ve spent several years learning to accept failure.
But it feels to me that going to Scotland is pretty much admitting I’m aging off the tour.
On the other hand, if I could play a tournament late next month instead, I’m saying I still want to play at a high level.
I don’t know if I do. The knee aside, there are some young guys coming up who can outdrive me, can outputt me.
It takes a lot of time and effort to play at peak.
But then again, I don’t want to go out with an injury, you know?
I want to end my career on top. But to be at the top, it takes a village, practically.
Which means people depend on me. People like my caddy, Jake, and that son of a bitch Clay.
And now, the village is starting to complain. ”
“What would you do if you didn’t play on the tour?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? I don’t have a clue. It’s easier to flit around and do some knee rehab and avoid phone calls about it.”
But he knew that eventually, he had to answer the phone, and that’s when he’d pack a bag and give her the old, it-was-great speech.
She sat down beside him on the cot.
“Neither of us are making much progress, are we?” he asked.
Amy shook her head. “We suck at progress.”
“We’re like the world’s worst at making decisions.”
“Complete morons.”
He put his hand on her knee and squeezed it. “We’ve got a week left in this paradise your family is now calling home.”
“Yeah.”
“How about this…what if I’m able to figure out a way for us to make our decisions in peace and quiet?”
“You have my full attention,” she said. “But what on earth do you mean?”
“I mean without an audience, as originally planned.”