Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Even now, at the height of struggling to control her emotions, she’s so elegant and eloquent. Dad nods, agreeing silently but genuinely.
“I understand.” That’s true. I do. “I think we just need to learn how to talk to each other. It’s half my fault for never saying anything before. I’ve just taken it and internalized it and either tried to do better or just moved on. I don’t mean to say you’ve never been supportive. I know you didn’t want me to be an event planner or work in the hospitality industry, but you still paid for my school. You didn’t want me to get a music degree, not because you didn’t think I was talented, but because you didn’t want me to struggle. You worried I wouldn’t be able to own my own home, so you helped me find this place, and you made sure I had the money for a down payment.
“You’re both busy, both with demanding careers, but you made sure I went to a great daycare, that I had friends growing up, and was involved with school and community, even if you couldn’t be because you didn’t have the time. I shouldn’t say that I’ve been invisible to you. I just sometimes feel you don’t see what I truly want or that it doesn’t matter. I know you’re both busy, and you’re both trying your best, but at the same time, I did feel lonely as a kid, and I still do. That’s all contradictory, I know.” I hang my head despite wanting to get this out and stand strong. “I don’t know. It’s hard to try to voice everything I’m thinking and feeling.”
Dad rises immediately. He rounds the table, bends down, and takes my hands. He doesn’t say anything, but he does pull me into his arms.
Mom joins in, hugging me right where I’m sitting. She wraps me up from behind while my dad holds me from the front. This is crazy because they are not huggy people.
I take a chance and spill the rest. It’s easier to deliver news I know they won’t like while they’re hugging me, supporting me, and seeing me, all while giving me room to keep telling them what I need to tell them. “The boyfriend who offered me the job is a new boyfriend. We…uh…just decided we were going to date. I know you’re going to lose your minds, and it sounds bad, but believe me, I’ve already been down that road mentally, and so has he. He’s older. Like, way older. He might be Mika’s dad.”
I glance over Dad’s head, and right now, those flamingos with their wide eyes look absolutely scandalized. They really want to escape.
“A sugar daddy?” Dad looks at me, so hopeful that this isn’t the case. He takes my hands, holding them tightly.
“No! Not a sugar daddy. When I met him, I didn’t know he was Mika’s dad. I figured it out pretty darn fast and told her about it, and she thought we’d be a good match. She’s been all for it even when we were cautious and careful. We still will be. We would never want to hurt anyone or each other. He’s a good man. Maybe I’m a weirdo for freaking liking older men, but that’s where I’m at. I swear he’s not taking advantage of me, and it’s nothing freaky for the…for the sake of being freaky.” Wow. I was doing okay up until the end.
Mom caresses my hair. She hasn’t done that ever, not unless she was combing it back to rake it into a tight ponytail or scrape it into a tidy bun for my piano recitals. “We’re bad communicators. All of us. We never meant to hurt you. We’ll work on it.”
“We don’t want you to feel alone,” Dad agrees. “You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ll find ways to make that clear.”
I feel bad that I’m this surprised at my parents listening to me, hugging me, and supporting me. I know a lot of families don’t do this. I had a great childhood compared to what some kids go through. I know how lucky I am, and I want to keep that in mind. I know my parents don’t mean to be insensitive. They’re flawed people, just like me, and they always have been. Moms and dads don’t have all the answers. But I never expected this. As I said, it was my fault for not being willing or able to talk about it before now.
I didn’t want to hold a grudge or keep this festering. That was the point of talking tonight.
“I know,” I whisper. “I love you guys. And we’ll be okay. You can worry because you’re my parents, and it’s natural, but don’t worry about this. We’ll figure it out.”
“I’m just so glad you still have fucks left to give.” Dad doesn’t swear. Ever. I look at him with a whole different set of eyes. “If you didn’t care, that would be terrible. This wouldn’t be fixable then.”