Chapter 10 #2
“Everything, really. We moved from a small town where the only strangers were tourists to a city with more people than we could ever meet. We live in an apartment instead of a house with a yard and nearly all her friends within walking distance. She spends so much more time inside than she used to, and I can’t really encourage her to go out and explore because I don’t know anyone in this complex.
I can’t send my daughter to venture into the unknown without supervision.
What if some creep snatches her? What if she gets into some other sort of trouble?
What if she gets hurt and can’t find her way back to our apartment? ”
“Alis, honey. You can ‘what if’ yourself into an early grave if you’re not careful. Take a deep breath.”
I close my eyes and do as she says. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.
“I know, mom. It’s just, all so new. I feel like for the first time since Sunny became mine, I'm having to actually parent her by myself. You and dad have always been there to fall back on, and now you aren’t here.”
I can hear her smile beneath her next words. “We’re still here, honey. You can always call if you need us.”
Mom’s ability to talk me down from an anxiety attack is one of the many reasons I love her.
Growing up, Mom and I weren’t very close.
We didn’t argue or butt heads, we just didn’t have much in common.
Still don’t, if I’m honest. Dad and I are very similar, whereas Belle was always more like our mom.
They both have always been more social, outgoing, laissez faire.
Dad and I are easily overwhelmed, overthink everything, and prefer the company of books rather than people.
Mom was always Dad’s safety blanket; Belle, mine.
But then it all changed. Belle was gone, and I felt truly lost for the first time in my life.
Sure, Tori and Skye helped keep me afloat in the wake of our loss, but Mom was my true life raft.
My friends couldn’t pause their own lives to guide me through grief.
Both of my friends returned to Ft. Ulysses to finish the semester the next week.
For the next few months Tori and Skye came home every weekend to spend with me.
As the semester drew to a close, Chase’s patience wore thin, keeping Tori in Ft.
Ulysses most weekends. The previous October Skye had committed to a year-long study abroad program that began in June, and before I knew it, I found myself waking on a Saturday morning without my friends to dictate the weekend’s activities.
Enter, Mom. The woman who was simultaneously grieving the loss of her firstborn child, guiding her husband out of his darkness, caring for her infant granddaughter, and keeping the Gilmore household running like a well-oiled machine.
She had too much on her plate, but still found room for the emotionally-shattered twenty-two-year-old to find sanctuary with her.
“I know, but you’re not here, here. If I hadn’t brought Skye with me, I would’ve already thrown in the towel and moved back home. If not for her, I would’ve already had a panic attack.”
“Have you talked to Dr. Wilkes since the big move?” Of course, she would bring up my therapist.
“No, Mom, I’ve been a little busy adjusting to everything.” Great, now I sound like a temperamental teenager.
“Isn’t that what Dr. Wilkes is there for?
I mean, I'm always happy to talk to you, but I can’t really relate.
I grew up and married in Moraine; I've never had a big move.
I was born here and I'll probably die here. All this to say, I think it would be a good idea for you to make an appointment with her.”
If I don’t acquiesce, she’ll keep prodding. “I will after this week.”
“I think you should do it sooner.”
Give me an ever-loving break. “Mom, I am thirty years old, and I think I’m fairly self-aware. I know when I need extra help.”
“I know you are, sweetie. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” I know she means well.
“Can we change the subject?” Please?!
“Of course. How’s Skye?” She knows what she’s doing. This woman helps combat my anxiety by reminding me that I’m not alone here in Grand River.
“She’s good, she got a job at a coffee shop nearby.”
“Oh good! Have you two made any friends?”
“Haven’t really had the time. Last weekend Skye went home to see Tori and I’m pretty sure she’s going back again tomorrow after work.”
“Really, what for?” Good question. I’ve been so caught up in my own head I didn’t think to ask.
“No clue. It’s Skye and Tori — who knows what those two are up to. I think Skye mentioned a project or something a few days ago?”
“I haven’t seen Tori since you left.” Tori’s always had her own life separate from Skye and me. That tends to happen when you meet the love of your life at sixteen and get married at twenty.
I chuckle and say, “Why would you if I’m not there?”
“I would've seen her at church the last two Sundays, but now that I think about it, I haven't seen her at church in a month. She and Chase are always there!”
Not sure how to respond to her frustration, I don’t. If Tori is anything, she’s a creature of habit. Missing a month’s worth of Sundays at church is out of character. Mom doesn’t seem to pause for my response before she barrels on.
“You don’t know what this mystery project is?”
“Nope. Not a clue. Honestly, Mom, I only half remember the conversation. I’m pretty sure Skye was talking about ten things at once so she could have been referring to a project at the coffee shop for all I know.”
Suddenly, as if she’s come to a revelation, mom gasps. “Maybe Tori wants to open her own accounting firm! God knows she’s been working for Roger for way too long, getting paid pennies no doubt.”
I don’t make a habit of prying into other people’s business, but Mom is a meddler, albeit with good intentions.
Sunny knocks on the door and peaks in. “Monty?”
I smile at my sweet girl and pat the bed next to me. She climbs up and snuggles into me. “I’m on the phone with Grandma, want to talk to her?”
Sunny jumps up excitedly. “Ooooooh, Grandma!” So much for snuggling.
I say my goodbyes to Mom and hand over the phone to Sunny. Those two will gab at each other for God only knows how long, so I leave her on my bed and decide to take a shower before going to sleep.
The hot water beating down on my head, neck, and shoulders helps to relieve the headache I’ve been battling most of today. After washing I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the shower wall, relishing the feel of the water on my back.
Belle, what was I thinking moving so far away from home?
! I’ve never had to worry if Sunny was happy, who her friends were, where she disappeared to outside, how she was faring in school.
Sure, she seems fine, but what if she’s not telling me everything?
What if she hates it here but is afraid to tell me the truth?
What if she’s bullied at school and the teacher doesn’t tell me?
It’s not like back home where most of the teachers and administrators knew our family.
I feel like I’m wandering around, blind, with no one to guide me in the right direction.
What am I supposed to do about Dexter? Why can’t I stop thinking about his smile, his kiss, his … everything. I AM NOT THIS PERSON. I don’t swoon or pine after men. Especially not when I’m overwhelmed by everything happening around me.
“Hey, here’s an idea. How about we move Alis across the state to a new city, new school, new everything, and then, right when she’s most excited and confident about her choices, we’ll kick her feet out from under her with … wait for it … A MAN!”
I can see the you up there, sitting on a cloud couch, having a good laugh at my expense.
Belle: “Oh, what’s that? He’s her BOSS?! This is too good.”
God: “Quick, grab the popcorn! We’re about to get to the really good part where her past hurts bubble up to the surface and she’s forced to deal with them.”
Belle: “Wait. I thought she spent the last nine years healing from all the trauma?”
God: “Concerning losing you, yes. She may have fooled herself into thinking she dealt with all the other drama, but she hasn’t even scratched the surface of that shit storm.” (I don’t know if God would say ‘shit storm’, but in this instance it seems appropriate.)
Belle: *rubs hands together* “Oh, goody. I’m sooo here for this. I can’t wait to see what happens!”
I bang my forehead against the tile wall, annoyed at Belle, the imaginary sadist sister.
I know she’d never revel in my misery, but she would find some way to impart wisdom while simultaneously bringing levity to the situation.
She’d coax me out of my analysis paralysis, give me the necessary tools to slay my past demons, and then swat me on the butt and say, “Good game, sis!”
I miss you. I need you. Help me through this, please. I can’t do any of it alone.
After I dry off from the shower and slide into my most comfortable sleep shorts and camisole, I crawl into bed and dream of a life without so many complications and uncertainties.