20. Willa
CHAPTER TWENTY
WILLA
T hat hopeful shit was short-lived. As soon as Trevor and I walked back into my parent’s house, Mom was on one. Not with Trevor. Nooo . He can do no wrong in my parent’s eyes.
Ashlie and Hunter have invited him to a few family gatherings over the years, and my parents are completely taken with him.
When I told them Trevor was coming again this year, they didn’t even hesitate before asking how they could accommodate his stay.
They have no idea he’s the other half of their future grandchild.
Mom’s problems today are solely with me.
First, she took issue with me being gone all morning, grumbling about hours wasted on food prep like she wouldn’t have sent me out of the kitchen if I so much as looked at her side dishes.
When I tried to appease her, despite my aversion to every single smell coming from the stove, I was in the way.
Now I’m selfish for staying out of her way, and she’s made sure everyone at this dinner knows it.
Her glare cuts across the table anytime I say something.
I’m finding it harder to remain neutral with my rage bubbling under the surface.
“Any set date for the wedding?” Dad asks Hunter and Ashlie. His bald head shines under the chandelier lights, dark brown skin wrinkled at the corners of his eyes .
They glance at each other quickly and back to Dad before Hunter clears his throat. “Not yet. We’re still talking about it.”
“Ashlie, is a long engagement really your style? You’ll want to get your venue early to make sure there’s enough space for everyone.
” Mom taps her tiny afro as she looks over her glasses, her amber skin just as vibrant as it’s always been.
I reach for the mashed potatoes, the only thing I’ve been able to choke down tonight, and she clears her throat, side-eyeing me.
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Remember, a moment on the lips, forever on your hips, Willa. ”
Worry about your own damn hips . Glaring at her scrutiny, I dig the serving spoon deep into the potatoes and plop triple the amount I was originally going for.
Will I eat it all? No, but it took me a long time to love my body the way it is.
I’m not letting this quick trip back to hell ruin that.
Her nostrils flare at my rebellion, but Ashlie quickly chimes in.
“We’ve only been engaged a few months. I think we’re okay to wai?—”
“A dress!” Mom says, eyes still fighting with mine.
She slowly turns back to Ashlie, shifting into a pleasant look that would give the best supervillain whiplash.
“You’ll want to start those fittings soon…
” This isn’t new behavior from her. She likes to insert her ideas and make you think you’re crazy if you don’t agree.
Meanwhile, Dad watches it all quietly, as usual.
It’s clear who dominates in this household.
“Mama, we’re not?—”
“And flowers! I bet Samson would love?—”
“Mama!” Ashlie slams her knife and fork down, halting Mom’s diatribe. “We’re not having a big wedding.”
“Nonsense.” Mom waves her hand in the air and takes a sip of her water. “Don’t be selfish. We have a lot of family who will be so disappointed if they aren’t invited.”
“I guess they can be disappointed from the courthouse parking lot then,” Ashlie mumbles down at her plate, picking up her fork. Hunter chokes on his drink next to her .
Mom’s icy glare flashes on Ashlie so quickly, my older sister protective instinct takes over. I’m tired and grumpy, and watching Ash struggle to be heard makes something in me snap. “So, I’m pregnant.”
Hunter chokes again, Ashlie drops her utensils on her plate, and all eyes are on me as I shovel mashed potatoes in my mouth. I chance a look at Trevor, who’s gaping at me.
Dad puts a hand on Mom’s shoulder, but she pushes it away as she stands.
“A word, Wilhelmina.” She takes calculated steps toward the study, and I indulge in one more bite of potatoes before wiping my mouth with a napkin and throwing it over my plate.
When I stand, Dad follows me, creating an intimidation sandwich. Ready or not, this is happening.
As soon as he closes the door, Mom starts in on me. “How could you be so irresponsible, Willa? And lying to us all day about it. This is art school all over again.”
The viridian glow from the banker’s lamp on the desk tints her skin like the wicked witch she is.
Jumping to all those conclusions must be exhausting.
I perch on the arm of the leather wingback chair by the door, staring past her at the jacquard curtains like I did when I was seventeen.
My arms settle across my chest as I armor up. Déjà vu has nothing on this .
Dad paces the room, not saying a goddamn thing about her tirade. Fucking typical .
“What were you possibly thinking?” Her shrill voice puts my glare back on her. “Why do you insist on throwing your potential down the drain?”
“Why are you talking to me like I’m a child who?—”
“Because you’re acting like one!” Mom snaps. “Don’t expect us to pay for any of this, Wilhelmina. You’re grown. Now act like it.” She marches up to me and sticks her finger in my face. “Your little outburst ruined Thanksgiving dinner. You will go out there and apologize to everyone at the table.”
She won’t shut up long enough for me to explain this was all unplanned. That all precautions were taken. Hell, I haven’t even said who the father is. I’m one more assumption away from storming out of here and never coming back.
“I know I’m grown. It’s you who seems to forget. Most people would be elated to learn their daughter is pregnant with their first grandchild. But not you. Oh , nooo . You use it as a way to prove some point and lecture me over a choice I made fifteen years ago.”
“But how can you support a baby with an unpredictable salary?” Dad’s voice is a soft contrast to Mom’s.
“My studio is thriving. Nothing about it is unpredictable. You’d know that if you pulled your head out of Mom’s ass and opened your goddamn eyes.
” I spit the words out, which makes Mom take a step back despite the scalding burn in her gaze.
The rage I’ve been pushing down roils over the surface as I come to realize there’s no other way this would have played out.
I didn’t follow their prescription for life, and for that reason, I’ll always be a failure in their eyes.