She was relieved to find that Casey was in her room, probably still fuming over their argument. Nan was sitting on the sofa with a photo album in her lap.
Ugh. Those damn photo albums!Faith wanted to scream. She was in no mood to look through any more photos of how blissfully happy she and Casey were as children. That was the trouble with photos: They were like sports highlights—only the good stuff. Well, in reality there was a ton of bad stuff too, and painting a picture of their glorious childhood wouldn’t help right now. She didn’t want to be convinced of how wonderful her life was. There was no changing the way they both felt. And, Faith would be glad when she could finish out this vacation and go back to her regular life. If it weren’t for Nan’s birthday, she’d have already left.
“Have a seat, dear,” Nan said, her eyes knowing.
Her mom came in and sat down on the floor, crossing her legs at the ankles and turning around to view the two of them. She looked concerned.
“What’s going on?” Nan asked.
“It’s complicated,” Faith replied. It felt like someone had a tiny hammer banging at her temples from the inside. Just sitting there was exhausting.
“It always is.”
“Casey is a very extroverted person,” her mom said carefully. She was talking to Nan but looking at Faith out of the corner of her eye. “She will sometimes steal your thunder. But Faith,” she turned to her daughter, “you are wonderful in different ways.”
Her mother was only trying to help, but it was like nails on a chalkboard. It was mother-talk. Her unconditional love was clouding her judgment. How, exactly was Faith wonderful? Was she a wonderful teacher? She’d gotten balloons and more mugs than she could house from her students. Was she wonderful at reading? She’d read so many novels that she had to get another bookshelf. Was she wonderful at being alone? Perhaps. Maybe that’s what she meant.
Nan opened the photo album and Faith let out a sigh. She couldn’t help it. She knew she was acting like a child, but after today, she just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Maybe I wasn’t opening this to showyou. If you’re not going to talk to me, then I’m going to look at the photos. In a week’s time, I’ll be parting with them so I want to get a good look at all of them.”
Faith eyed Nan skeptically. She was up to something. She always was.
“Martha, scoot up here between us. I want to show you something.” Her mom complied, and Nan set the book in her mother’s lap, which was conveniently located between Nan and Faith.
Nan leaned uncomfortably across her daughter, and it was clear that it was a struggle to have the book on her lap, so Faith resigned to look at it. There was clearly something Nan wanted to tell her. Her grandmother’s fingers shook a little, her knuckles disfigured from arthritis, as she tried unsuccessfully to grab on to the pages. Her mom helped her. They turned pages together until Nan put her hand flat on a photo, a smile emerging as she tipped the book in Faith’s direction to view it without the glare of the lights obscuring it. It was a picture of Casey as barely a toddler, cradling a newborn Faith in her arms on the sofa as if Faith were her own baby, Faith’s face red, crying the kind of cries only a newborn can produce.
“Oh yes!” her mom said as she tilted her head to look at the photo. “I’d forgotten about that! Casey used to care for you as if you were her own child. I’d have to pry you away from her. She kept wanting to pick you up! I was so worried she’d hurt you because she insisted on carrying you around and taking care of you.” She looked over at Nan, lost in conversation. “I think that lasted a few years, didn’t it, Mom?”
Where were they going with this? Faith was waiting for some lesson in it because that’s how Nan operated. There was always a lesson in her stories. “Okay, I’ll bite. Tell me what you think I should learn from this.”
Nan pressed her lips into a pouty frown and shook her head. “Are you implying that you should learn something?”
“Yes. Maybe I should learn that she took care of me and now it’s my turn to take care of her or something…”
Nan’s chuckle came out breathy as she said, “That’s pretty good. I was just going to say that it’s inherent to love each other. We love our family—even when they drive us crazy. Casey didn’t care if you were screaming your head off. She wanted to care for you anyway. I could draw a parallel…”
“Is that what I’m doing? Screaming my head off?” She could feel the anger filling her up. Everyone was against her! She’d done everything she was supposed to! She’d stayed quiet when Casey and Scott had gotten together! She’d stood at their wedding to wish them a happy life! She’d taken chances like Nan had said! How many times could she go over these same facts in her head? There was no other way to look at it! Nothing could be changed. Nothing could be rearranged in a different perspective to make her problems any less. She was meant for the life she had, and she was trying too hard for something else. It was exhausting her. Thank God, she’d get to leave before she could know Jake any more, or he’d hurt her too. He’d said that himself in different words.
“Is that the parallel you want to draw?” Nan said, her face contorting into an expression of sadness.
Why was she being given a lesson when Casey should equally, if not more, be sitting there having advice handed to her. Faith always seems to be the one who has to compromise, the one to make an effort.
“Don’t look at me like that, Nan. Don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve finally figured everything out!”
With that statement, Nan threw her head back and in her southern accent that only reared its head on occasions like these, she said, “Lord, help her!”
“What?” Faith said, her eyes pinned on her grandmother. She had a mixture of emotions. She wanted so badly for Nan to tell her what to do, if there were any way to change what was, but she also felt indignant, annoyed that everyone seemed to be ganging up on her.
“Sweet girl, if your life is exactly the way you want it, then that’s fine. But I have a sneaking suspicion, given your recent behavior, that this is not the case.”
She was irritated, frustrated. Without a word, she got up and walked over to the door leading to the wraparound porch outside. If she didn’t get outside right now, she was going to suffocate. Her mom tried to get up, but Nan stopped her. Faith ignored her mother’s efforts. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She walked out, shut the door behind her, and let the noise of the angry night surf swell in her ears as she took a seat on one of the rockers. The warmth in the air felt heavy around her, settling on her shoulders.
Faith waited for the calm that would inevitably come from being alone. As a child, she’d come out on the porch at night at their beach cottage, cocooning herself in the hammock. Back then, she didn’t know anything about worry or sadness, and being alone was a nice change. Now, as she tried to get herself together, she just felt different. Being here had made being alone feel different, and that only added to her agitation.
The door behind her opened, but she didn’t look to see who it was. It was probably her mom, ignoring Nan’s suggestion, and coming out to check on her. She loved her mother, but she was tired of talking. It wasn’t going to change anything. All it would do was point out the obvious.
“I do think about other people,” Casey said, walking around to face her. “And, yes, I enjoy being happy. It beats the alternative.” She sat in the other rocker and looked down at the floor. Faith followed her line of vision, noticing how the new lumber was a stark contrast to the old wood floors of their childhood cottage. “If you weren’t so busy being miserable, you could be happy too. It’s a mindset, you know.” She looked back up at Faith. “I should be miserable. I never get to see you, and when I do, we fight, I’m trying to be in the present, not dwelling on the past, and—yet again—I’ve stepped on your toes. We’ve never really resolved whatever the issues were with Scott, and now I’m losing him. That entitles me to be miserable, but I’m not. You, on the other hand, have had nothing go wrong in your life, apart from a crush that didn’t amount to anything, yet you can’t be happy to save your life.”
