The truth is, I plan to spend my free time this summer catching up on all the romance novels I didn’t have time to read during the school year, and maybe even writing something thatdoesn’tinvolve political theory. But I don’t tell my mother that.
“I’ll be fine, Mom. My schedule will be even more demanding next year, so I’d really like to take this summer to relax.”
Her eyebrows go up like she’s surprised I’ve expressed a boundary with her. Come to think of it, I’m a little surprised too. A year away at college must have done me some good.
“Well, what are your plans for next week?” she asks. “I suppose you’ll want to see Dex?” Her tone is nonchalant, but she avoids eye contact.
“Of course,” I say without elaborating.
“Does Chris know? About your plans?” I look up from my bowl to see my mom pursing her lips as she works to excise a plump black cherry from layers of vanilla ice cream with true surgical precision.
My heart starts pumping faster. I’m irritated, partly because she wouldn’t even know about Chris if it weren’t for my roommate, who spilled the beans when my mom visited me on campus for my birthday. It was a rare weekend she happened to have off from work. “What’s there to know?” I say with a scowl that only ever appears in the presence of my mother.
She takes a moment to swallow her bite, then shrugs. “Well, Chris is a nice boy, that’s all. And I don’t think he’d be too happy if he knew his girlfriend was planning to spend the entire summer with her high school crush.”
“High schoolcrush?” I stammer, nearly dropping my spoon. “What are you?—”
“Oh sweetie, you don’t have to pretend. I mean, who wouldn’t have a crush on Dex, right? He’s gorgeous. But he’s not a seriousboy?—”
“What are you even talking about?” I ask, my eyes narrowed and my nostrils flared. “Don’t you remember how amazing he was in the senior play? You said it yourself—he’ll probably be famous one day. He is supremely talented, and smart, andveryserious about acting?—”
“Well, that’s not a serious career now, is it?” My mom stands up from the table and takes her bowl of half-eaten ice cream to the sink. “Chris, on the other hand, has his entire future planned out. Do you know how hard it is to get into the seven-year medical program at Northwestern? He’s a bright boy, Sunny. He’s good for you.”
“Mom, you’ve never even met Chris! You only think he’s good for me because you’d love to have a doctor son-in-law to patch me up whenever disaster strikes?—”
“Well disaster does strike, when you least expect it,” she says, her back still turned to me as she scrubs her dish.
My mom never talks about losing her parents in a car accident when she was seventeen, so I typically don’t mention it. I’ve never confronted her about her anxiety either. But something has to change. Neither of us benefit from her constant worrying.
“It’s awful how your parents died,” I say. “And becoming a surgeon so you could spare other people that pain…that’s admirable. Helping people is something youcancontrol. But there are certain things you can’t. And living in fear won’t change that. Worrying won’t keep me safe.”
She still hasn’t turned around, so I have no idea what she’s thinking. How she’s feeling. But I guess I’m setting another boundary. I’m not quite sure what’s gotten into me. MaybeI’m gearing up so I can talk to Dex. I want to know why he stopped talking to me. I want to know if we’re still friends.
“Let’s not make this about me, Sunny,” she says at last. “I had a really long night at the hospital, and I’m exhausted.” She tucks her hair behind her ear and finally faces me. “All I’m saying is, you need to be careful not to fall into old patterns. A lot has changed since high school. You have a boyfriend now. So if you’re planning to hang out with Dex, you should probably mention it to Chris. You wouldn’t want him to hear from someone else and get the wrong idea. Doesn’t that Rogers boy down the street go to Northwestern?”
I don’t know a boy named Rogers, nor am I aware of anyone on our street who goes to Northwestern, but my mom doesn’t wait for me to answer. She plants a kiss on the top of my head and says, “I’m going upstairs to get some rest.”
I stay seated at the kitchen table for a few minutes in stunned silence before I grab my things from the foyer and head upstairs to my room. I plop down on my bed, my head spinning. These conversations with my mom suck all the life out of me.
It’s exhausting trying to be what someoneelsewants you to be.
There’s only one person I want to talk to right now. The one person I’ve always been myself with. My heart sinks, wondering if I should reach out to him.
A minute later, the phone line in my room rings.
But it’s not the person I want it to be. It’s Chris.
“Hello?” I answer.
“You made it home!” he says with a smile in his voice.
“Yup…” I reply with a heavy sigh.
“Well,thatdoesn’t sound good. What’s the matter?”
“My mom,” I say. “I’ve been home for half an hour and we’re already butting heads.”
“Wow, that was quick. What were you arguing about?”
