A second later, his booming voice comes through the line. “Hola, mi corazón de melon.”
“Hola, Papá.”
“What’s going on?” he asks, taking immediate control of the conversation. “What do you need to speak to us about?”
“I had my interview at Sports Stream yesterday.”
Not that anyone in my family cared enough to call and ask how it went.
“Was that this week?” Mamá chirps. “Gabby’s schedule is so hectic right now. I hardly know what day it is. All this preparation for the National Team training camp is running me ragged.”
Of course. Of course, Gabby’s schedule trumps mine.
Again.
Frustration bears down on me like a tidal wave and it’s all I can do not to scream.
If I don’t say something now, I never will, and I’ll have no one to blame but myself.
“I know this is a big opportunity for Gabby,” I say, fighting to keep my tone neutral. “And I’m really excited for her, but just once, it would be nice if you could put me first.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she splutters, going on the defensive.
My pulse quickens, but I forge ahead.
“I mean, you promised to come to the Rutgers meet and you canceled. You didn’t reschedule. You didn’t ask me if it was okay. You just…did it.” I roll onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. “And you just said yourself that you forgot about my Sports Stream interview. If I hadn’t mentioned it, would you have even remembered?”
“Of course.” She huffs out a breath. “We love both of our girls equally.”
I sit with that for a moment, knowing what I say next could launch this conversation into the stratosphere.
“I know you do, but sometimes it feels like Gabby’s gymnastics career comes first and everyone else comes last.” I close my eyes and brace for impact. “It’s not a great feeling, Mamá.”
There’s a long pause, and I think she’s going to argue, but then she says, “I didn’t know you felt that way. How long has this been going on?”
Years.
But I don’t say that because this isn’t about shaming my parents or rehashing old hurts. It’s about trying to move forward with a healthy relationship, something we haven’t had for a while now.
“For a long time,” I breathe, the words barely a whisper.
Her reply is swift, her tone firm. “You should have said something.”
She’s right. I never should have let things get this bad, but…
“I didn’t know how.” And I was afraid that if I did, it would come across as jealousy.
“Lo siento.” She sighs, sounding as exhausted as I feel. “We’ll try to do better.”
Relief washes over me. It’s all I can ask of them. “Thank you.”
“So,” my father says, chiming in again now that the messy emotional stuff is done. “How did your interview go?”
“It was fine, but I’ve decided not to pursue the internship any further.”
“Why not? It’s a great opportunity.”
My pulse skitters, my fight-or-flight instincts kicking in.
