Chapter 31
Patrick
Ellie warned me about her mom’s high expectations while I drove to her parent's house, but I was not expecting it to actually be true. She said that her mother has always wanted what’s best for her, but it comes off as overbearing.
I could tell by her expression that she was concerned about bringing me into the mix, but from where I stand, it seems like her mother didn’t give her another option.
Walking into their house feels familiar.
It's not like I've been here before, but they have a single family home set up in the suburbs of Walford that could have been copied and pasted inside and out.
There is nothing remarkable about the space, and while it seems perfectly normal, the only thing that differentiates it from any of the other houses are the multitudes of pictures of Ellie and her family.
I take note of the fact that every individual picture of Ellie is of some kind of accomplishment—a college graduation, a youth soccer championship, a high school award ceremony.
There aren’t any of her without a feat attached to it, which is my first clue that Ellie probably wasn’t exaggerating on the car ride over.
Ellie’s an only child, so everything they own is set up for a family of three. Why have more if you don’t need more, I guess. It appears that they don’t have more than one or two guests over at a time, and if they did, I have no idea how they would handle that.
There is a small wooden dinner table that barely fits us all, and it is already prearranged with the plates and food when we sit down.
Ellie made a point that she did not want to be early, explaining that any extra time with her mom takes years off of her life.
There’s a pit in my stomach that keeps growing larger the more stressed Ellie gets, and I feel bad for being so blasé about it before.
Ellie’s father breaks the silence while spooning some mashed potatoes onto his plate. “So, Patrick, how did you two meet?”
Thank god, we’re starting off easy.
I’ve practiced this before, and Ellie and I are determined to keep our lies as close to the truth as possible.
“It’s actually kind of a funny story. I’ve been a customer at The Brew for a long time, so I saw Ellie basically every day.
One day a few months ago, I finally decided to get up the courage to ask her out.
I had always thought that she was beautiful, and I realized that if I didn’t do anything, I would never get the chance to get to know her. ”
It’s a little closer to the truth than I’ll ever let Ellie know.
“Oh, how romantic,” her father replies, glancing lovingly at his wife.
I expect a comment from Ellie’s mother, but instead of talking to me, she turns towards Ellie and grabs at her hands.
“Yes, that is nice, sweetheart, but I wish that you didn’t work at that place.
You spend all of your time serving people who don’t care about you.
The hours are awful, and it doesn’t even help you with your degree. You should get an internship.”
Ellie wiggles out of her mother’s grip and goes back to cutting up the chicken breast in front of her to avoid eye contact. Where she is normally vibrant and lively, Ellie is muted in this house, a shell of herself to appease her mom, and it pains me.
Her eyes remain focused on her plate as she responds to her mother’s comment. “Mom, you know that I can’t afford to go to school and work for free. My job is fine for now.”
What I take as a sufficient answer is apparently not good enough because her mother doesn’t let up. “Your father and I can help you, and you can move back in for a little bit. It will be just like old times!”
Ellie looks terrified, trapped in this ignorant cycle, so I decide to cut in. “So, how long have you two been together?”
“Almost thirty years, but it doesn’t feel like it.” Her dad holds her mother’s hand and plants a kiss on her knuckles.
“He has always been so good to me.” Her mom’s tone shifts when she talks about her husband. That accusatory note in her voice turning to adoration.
I can’t imagine what Ellie has gone through in this house, and it’s even more upsetting to see that her mom is capable of being kind and caring.
From what she has told me, her mom only treats her kindly when she is conforming to her mother’s ideas of what she should be.
But, hearing and seeing are two different things.
If I can keep the focus off of Ellie, maybe she can make it through this dinner mostly unscathed.
As we continue with our meal, Ellie’s dad tries to fill the deafening silence, asking me about my job. “Patrick, what do you do for a living?”
“I lead a team of data analysts for an outdoor recreation company. It might sound a little boring, but I truly love what I do and the company I work for.”
“That is very nice. It sounds like a good job.”
I add, “I’m happy to talk more about it if you have any questions.”
Before he can respond, her mom cuts in again, “I’ve always wanted Ellie to do something in STEM, but she is just so stubborn.
” The comment throws me off balance, but I do my best to shrug it off.
I get that Ellie is their only child, but there is no reason to give her the third degree about everything.
We continue eating and engaging in small talk for another twenty minutes, and it is truly uncomfortable.
My attempts to covertly take the heat off of Ellie fail since all of the questions and answers follow the same format—her dad asks something about me, I respond as politely as possible, and somehow her mom manages to make what I say some kind of dig at Ellie.
Her mom never outwardly says anything awful or mean, but it is all insinuated by the way she says it.
Honestly, all of it is making me upset, but I’m doing my best to hold it together for Ellie.
She has helped me so much throughout this whole ordeal, so I can manage to suck it up and be a nice-mannered, caring boyfriend in front of her parents.
It doesn’t take them long to learn almost everything there is to know about me.
I’m a pretty simple guy and always have been, so there’s not much to say.
They know what I do, where I grew up, how many siblings I have, my favorite sports team, and we’ve only been talking for less than a half hour.
Because of this, Ellie becomes the new focus of conversation, and everything that I’ve been trying to avoid comes to light.
It shouldn’t shock me how quickly the criticism begins, but her mother is truly something else.
Her mother brings up her job again, asking if she has tried to get promoted. “At least you could call yourself a manager. Then you wouldn’t just be making people’s coffee; you’d be managing a team and building up your resume.”
I can’t stand the way she looks down on Ellie.
Yes, she is a barista right now, but that’s not forever. She doesn’t need to become a manager because she is just at this job until she finishes her Master’s. And, even if she decided to stay a barista and make drinks for the rest of her life, that would be fine too. Who cares?
I can’t stand people who think that money is more important than happiness. Those are the people who are completely miserable because they feel like they need so much more. Ellie is already working so hard, and her mother refuses to see it.
She keeps going, and I have to look down at my plate, moving the leftover food around to try to distract myself.
There is only so much longer I can take sitting here and listening to her mother push her around like she’s a child.
How can anyone criticize someone so much?
Especially Ellie, who is basically killing herself trying to do well in her classes and working five days a week to pay for everything by herself.
I am starting to see red.
My eyes move to Ellie, and it looks like she is doing her best not to sob at the dinner table. Her jaw is clenched, and she is picking her thumbs raw. I grab her hand trying to ground her, but she refuses to look at me. Shame radiates off of her, and I can’t stand it.
Does her mom even realize how cruel she is? She has to see how this is affecting Ellie, and if she is deciding to ignore how her daughter feels, that makes it so much worse.
Her mom continues her judgment, and somehow we’re back to Ellie’s choice of degree.
“We all know that getting an English degree was an awful idea, sweetie, and now you’re just throwing away money by getting a Master’s too.
I don’t think it would be a bad idea to just take a break and refocus on something that you can actually thrive in.
“I know we keep offering, but I think you need to seriously reconsider moving back in with us. You are wasting a lot of money on an apartment, and if you stay here, your dad can get you an entry level job at his friend’s company.
” She nudges her husband, and he nods along, obedient to his wife’s verbal harassment.
“They’ve been talking about how they need someone to answer the phones, and you can do that.
They are always talking about how there is room to move up in the company; it would be so perfect!
I just feel like you’re just wasting your life away, and I don’t want to see you do that. You can’t just—”
“I’m sorry, but you need to stop.” My voice comes out firm and strong, but inside I am shaking.
I was raised to respect my elders, but I was also raised to speak up when something is wrong.
This time the latter wins out. Her mom is stunned into silence when I raise my voice, and her father is looking down at the table, doing his best to avoid getting involved.
I have sat through enough of this dinner to know that it is not going to get better.
Doing my best to stand firm in what I know, I pray to god that I don’t stutter.
“Ellie is one of the most hardworking people I know. She spends literally all of her time either working or studying, and it is ridiculous that you are criticizing her like this. Ellie is doing something that she cares about. She has drive and passion, but I guess it only matters if those things are aligned with your ideals, which are questionable at best because it’s obvious that all you care about is how much money Ellie makes.
I’m sorry, but if you are too oblivious to realize that your daughter would be suffering doing something that she doesn’t love or living with people who do not support her, you are more ignorant than I thought. ”
It all comes out so quickly. I don’t fully realize I insulted her until she responds.
Ellie’s mom looks at Ellie with a furrowed brow, and I hear a depth of anger in her voice. “You’re just going to let him speak to us like that? In our home?”
She looks back and forth between her husband and Ellie, waiting for someone to defend her. It doesn’t matter what anyone would’ve said because I’ve had enough.
Ellie’s silence and lack of eye contact with her parents is enough of an answer for me anyways. “You don’t have to worry about me speaking to you again because we are leaving.”
I hold out my hand to Ellie. She has the choice to stay here, but she has to know that she is so much stronger than her parents make her out to be.
This is it. This is the moment where she can show her parents that she won’t stand for their disrespect and lack of understanding. All she has to do is take my hand.
My eyes don’t leave Ellie’s, and when she finally brings her gaze up to me, I see that I was right.
“Eleanor. If you leave this house and go with him, we will have to—”
Her palm is warm as it slips into my hold. She stands up from the table and moves with me to the front door.
My heart stammers in my chest as we rush out the door, and I’m mortified of what I just did.
Ellie doesn’t say anything as she gets into my car. Her face is emotionless, and this is the first time in a while where I don’t have any words.
What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to comfort her?
I just yelled at her parents and stormed out of their house, dragging Ellie along with me.
The only thing I can think to say is ‘I’m sorry’, but I’m not—not about what I said.
I’m only sorry for not standing up for Ellie sooner.
All in all, I am a pretty passive person, and there’s nothing I hate more than upsetting people.
But, I couldn’t watch them talk to her like that.
Her dad hadn’t said a singular word during the mother’s slanderous tirade, which made it even worse. Even if he didn’t agree with Ellie’s mother, his silence was shameful, and his lack of interfering made him an accomplice to her choices.
If he wasn’t going to stand up for his daughter, somebody had to. I’d gladly do it all again, but right now, I have no idea what Ellie is thinking.
We haven’t left her parent’s driveway, and all she has been doing is staring straight out the window at the front door. I don’t know if she is waiting for someone to come out or contemplating going back inside, but this silence is killing me.
“El—”
“Drive, please.” She cuts me off. Her voice is so small and unlike her, and it breaks my heart.
I do what she says and start driving, trying to put as much distance between Ellie’s parent’s house and us.
Logically, we go in the direction of her apartment, but her crushed tone is just loud enough to make out over the sound of the engine.
“Can we go to your house, please? I don’t want to be alone.”