It was done with a good heart and a lot of love, but that didn’t stop it from making me feel like she had wrapped me in several feather down blankets and was slowly smothering me.
Keeping my mouth shut got me through the rest of the mashed potato preparations with only a few more comments regarding my milk distribution and mashing technique. Finally, they were piled up in Mom’s favorite green serving bowl and set in the middle of the table. Mom followed close behind with a roasted chicken just as the front door opened.
I grinned when Nick came in. My brother coming to have dinner with us would take some of the pressure off of me. Having him around was definitely my favorite thing about being back in my hometown. I didn’t get to see him very often before coming back home.
“Something smells good,” he said.
“Well, come on over to the table. Everything is ready,” Mom said.
We all sat down, and Mom went around the table filling glasses and making sure everybody had their silverware and napkins. As if she wasn’t the one who set the table ten minutes before.
“How are things going being back home?” Nick asked.
Mom sat down and reached for her napkin. She slipped it to the side of the table like she always did and draped it over her lap.
With her napkin in place, she reached for the chicken and moved it closer to her so she could start slicing meat from the bones. One leg and several slices of breast meat went to my father first. Another throwback to my childhood. If there was one thing I could say about my mother and father and their marriage, it was that they had gotten consistency down to a science.
And yet, it didn’t have the same feeling as Steven and me. What they had was comfort. What we’d had was stagnation.
“It’s fine,” I said to Nick. “Just getting back into the groove of everything. But my room is exactly the way it was when I left, so that’s something.”
I lifted my eyebrows at him across the table, and my brother did his best not to laugh at the look.
“That’s good to hear. And you’ll see. Before long, you will have the career of your dreams, be back up on your feet, and find somewhere amazing for the next chapter of your life,” he said.
“Hmmmmm,” Mom said, shaking her head slightly as she put chicken on her plate and passed the platter over to Nick.
“Hmmmm?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow at her. “What was that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just that I don’t think Becca should be thinking about any of that. Definitely not going off on her own again. In fact, your father and I have been thinking about it, and we think it would be best if Becca just stayed here with us,” Mom said.
“What?” Nick and I asked at the same time.
“Well,” Mom said, seemingly shocked by our reaction, “it’s just that… well, you can’t just go out there on your own again. It didn’t work out last time, and we won’t let that happen again.”
I was so dumbstruck by the comment I didn’t even know how to respond. Nick didn’t have the same problem.
“Mom, that’s ridiculous,” he said. “You have to know that’s completely ridiculous.”
“I most certainly do not,” she said.
“Becca isn’t twelve years old. You can’t expect her to just stay locked up in the house with her parents for the rest of her life because her first stab at finding Mr. Right and settling down didn’t work out for her. That’s just the way things are sometimes. There are plenty of people who don’t end up on the perfect path first. They hit roadblocks and they move on,” he said.
It made me feel good to hear my big brother arguing on my behalf and standing up for me. At the same time, I felt like I was being left out of the conversation that was supposed to be about me. It made me feel like I wasn’t capable of sticking up for myself.
In a way that was exactly what got me to this spot in my life. I thought too much about everyone else and let everyone else think too much for me. I didn’t just think for myself, stand up for myself, and go after a life that would make me happy. I felt the need to step in.
“Mom, I can’t just stay here forever. If I did that, I would never learn how to be truly self-sufficient and completely depend on myself,” I said.
“That’s alright, honey. Your dad and I will just take care of you. You’re our baby. That’s our job,” Mom said.
“Speaking of jobs,” Dad said, lifting his head from his mashed potatoes long enough to interject himself into the conversation. “Do you really think you would be happy being a child psychologist? I think you would be much better off with a less intense job.”