Seventeen Evelyn #2
If she saw me in person, she'd know immediately that something was wrong.
Evelyn: I'm sorry but I can no longer attend the conference. Something came up.
Vanessa: Am I allowed to ask what? It isn't like you to change plans.
Of course it's not, it's barely my choice.
Evelyn: I know. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.
Vanessa: We are talking about this in person.
Only a few minutes later, not enough time for me to collect my thoughts, Vanessa came into my office. I still had disappointment etched across my face.
"So, Evelyn. Why the sudden change of heart?" she wondered aloud, inviting herself to sit across from me.
I couldn't meet her gaze without giving anything away, so I fiddled with the papers in front of me. "I have some last-minute personal stuff to handle here in Seattle during that time."
The tips of her soft fingers curled under my chin, lifting it up tenderly. "Evelyn, talk to me. What's the matter?" Her hand moved to my hair, tucking a strand behind my ear before pulling back, giving me the needed space to talk.
"Nothing, my mother's just announced she will be staying at my place during that time, and I feel I have to be there."
Vanessa cocked her head. "She just announced she's staying at your place?" she repeated with sarcastic disbelief.
"It's complicated."
"Well, you don't seem in favor of that arrangement.
Could I pay for a hotel for her instead?
" I knew she just wanted to help, but annoyance surged through me. This was a problem she couldn’t just throw her money at to make it disappear.
Her pointing out the obvious was just bringing back things I didn't want to think about.
"I already tried to do that. You don't understand her; it's just the way it is. Again, I am sorry for the inconvenience." She needed to drop this before I got emotional. Burying how I felt was easier and what I was used to.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seemed pleased about this opportunity. No?"
"Yes, but Vanessa, I can't." My eyes burned.
"Evelyn, I'm not allowing you to give up something you want like this."
"Wonderful, you write the response to my mother then," I joked with a dry chuckle.
"I think I may. I have a way of getting what I want from people. Give me your phone," she ordered, holding out her hand.
My eyes widened, flinching back in my seat at her tone. "Vanessa, trust me, you don't want to do that." I shook my head quickly, wrapping my arms around my torso.
Her expression softened considerably as she rested her chin in her open palm, obviously trying to figure me out. "Sweetheart, is this what you were handling this morning?"
"Yes, but it's not going to change and trying isn’t worth it. Please just accept that," I begged hopelessly.
She shook her head lightly, her voice full of sympathy. "I'm sorry, but I don't just accept these types of things."
I frowned, my bottom lip jutting out uncontrollably. She cared more than anyone had. "Do you think I don’t try to change it?"
"No, but I think you've been taught that you shouldn't."
She was right. I always knew that deep down, but hearing another person come to the same realization stung. In a way, believing I was dramatic and selfish like others told me was simpler.
"Vanessa, I don't care." I blinked back the tears threatening to spill out.
"Yes, you do, and you should care. You're allowed to care."
"Stop…just leave. I need space," I stammered, tears blurring my vision. I didn't want space. I didn't want to be alone. But I didn't want her to see me fall apart again.
Harshly rubbing any evidence of tears from my face with the backs of my palms, my skin reddened from the repetitive motion.
She reached her arms across the desk, laying them down palm-up, giving me the option to take them.
I slipped my hands into hers.
Her fingers folded gently around mine, her thumbs tracing slow, reassuring circles over my knuckles and along each finger.
"I'm sorry. I pushed you too hard, didn't I?" Her eyes were filled with nothing but care.
"It's just hard for me to talk about my family issues. You didn't know that."
"I know, honey," she whispered, never breaking eye contact while giving me another chance to speak.
"You were right. Everything you said was right, and I know that. That's why it hurts."
Her motions on my hands never stopped.
"Evelyn, we will find a way for you to come, okay?"
I nodded, longing for her to just hold me. But I was twenty-five, and we had a slightly professional relationship, so this was the most I would be getting from her.
She tilted her head. She had several ways of doing so, and I had learned them like a language.
There was the intimidating one, which she would use when asking a question she already knew the answer to or when teasing me mercilessly.
Then there was the concerned one. It was the rarest. This one showed she was listening to me or felt genuine concern or sympathy.
It made me melt. I hadn't seen her use it with anyone but me.
Lastly, there was the thinking one. It revealed very little, making it the most annoying of the three tilts.
My instant reaction when it appeared was to try to understand why it appeared, as I did now.
"What?"
I shook her hands, still holding mine, trying to get her attention. She looked back at me, a light smile at my reaction.
"Nothing, Evelyn.” She suppressed a chuckle at my eagerness, pulling away her hands to run them through her hair instead.
I frowned at the loss of contact and vague response. "Remember the rule we established?" I crossed my annoyingly free arms in frustration. They were better off when being held still by Vanessa.
"Oh? I wasn't aware we had rules." She cocked her head playfully, daring me to go on.
"You don't get to be closed off when I'm not."
"That's a rule now, hm?"
"Yes."
She chuckled lightly, giving in to humor me. "I was just thinking about you, that's all."
I knew it wasn't like that, yet I blushed furiously, asking the obvious second question. "What about me?"
She laughed again, showing her pretty smile. Every time I heard that sound or saw a genuine smile take over her face, embarrassing myself was worth it.
"How to fix this," she sighed, giving me an eye roll for still giggling.
"Why do you care? My issues aren't your problem. Besides, you told me you could just take someone else. Isn't that still the case?"
"I want to help you. Besides, my motives aren't completely selfless. I really want you to come with me, Evelyn." Any previous laughter or sarcasm in her voice was long gone. She meant that.
I swallowed harshly, my mouth suddenly dry. "I'll make sure she only stays a week. I'll come."
Arriving home shortly after, my mom was already spread out on my couch, with crumbs surrounding her. My kitchen, too, was a complete mess, as she had dug through everything to find the flavors of tea she wanted.
Why she couldn't have just called to ask where they were, or put what she took out away, was beyond me.
I broke the news to her over dinner, which she took as a malicious attack. Her attempts at playing the victim and threats to have a talk with my father—or other relatives she knew I liked—did nothing to stop me.
Earlier that evening, I’d texted Vanessa explaining the issue with my mother weaponizing my other family relationships.
Her wise advice was to alert my relatives in advance, before anything even happened, weakening the effects of the twisted story she'd be sure to tell.
Having Vanessa by my side gave me a newfound confidence.
In her effortlessly poetic words, protecting my peace doesn't make me the villain.
Vanessa could claim she was doing this because I'd be the best asset during the conference, but I knew it wasn't that.
It wasn't even just her wanting time alone with me, which I knew she did.
Ever since that dinner, I knew she wanted me, no matter the game she was playing.
This was bigger than the company or her own feelings—she cared because I cared.
She wanted to help me, for me. But she tried to hide that, because that would show she cared about me.
For some reason, she'd rather be seen as a manipulator.
Someone who was manipulating my choices for work purposes.
Someone who wanted me to put work before family.
But that wasn't it—she wanted me to put myself first.
Ever since my first week at Vector Line, Vanessa had wanted me to be strong and demand respect for myself and my boundaries.
She always respected mine and got upset when I didn't. She fired Jane for taking advantage of me.
She was upset when I didn't take care of my body and skipped breakfast. She got mad when I ignored my limits and drank because of pressure.
She always respected and understood my need for physical space at certain times.
And even now, she was pushing me to stand my ground once more.
It was why I trusted her more than anyone else.
Maybe that was why surrendering to her never felt like giving up control.
It felt like choosing, for once, to place it in the hands of someone who had never asked me to abandon myself.
Evelyn: It's handled. Thank you, for the extra push.
Vanessa: I'm really proud of you, Sweetheart.