It was sweet of her to offer. I was tempted to say yes, but then Mom might show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night if I didn’t give in to her demands.
I cringed. “Actually, do you mind if I show her that you’re here?”
Ella smiled in response. It only looked a little strained. “I don’t mind.”
“I’m sorry about this,” I told her. Again. I was beginning to sound like a broken record.
“It’s okay.” She pulled her hair over one shoulder and composed herself. “Ready.”
I unmuted the phone and looked at my mom. “If I do this, you’ll stop, right?”
She nodded.
I swiveled the camera toward Ella and then back to me again, trying to get this over with as fast as possible.
Mom glared at me. “All I saw was a flash of orange. Was it the fire, or her hair?”
Ella pulled a few strands up and stared at them.“Orange?”she mouthed.
Well, this was a complete nightmare.
“Mom, you’re being ridiculous,” I said. And then, to Ella, “Your hair isn’t orange.”
Dad forced himself into the frame on my screen. “Just show us the girl, Ben. Your mother has her bags packed.”
If not for Ella, I would have flipped the fuck out. Worrying was understandable, but this level of emotional manipulation crossed a line.
Anger burned through me like a fire, one that threatened to roar out of me if I didn’t get ahold of it. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Slowly. Twice. When I opened them again, Ella’s face filled the small box in the corner of the screen, indicating that my parents could now see her. I must have turned my phone away without realizing it, and Ella, nice person that she was, stepped up and decided to diffuse the situation.
She waved at them. “Hi. I’m here. Now. It wasn’t a picture of some rando from eight months ago.”
My parents got closer to their camera, their faces filling my screen.
Dad grinned ear to ear. “Oh, so sheisreal.”
“Last time I checked,” Ella said with an answering smile.
“And she’s pretty. Isn’t she pretty, Hani?” Mom said.
I snapped the phone back to me. “She is literally standing right next to me and can hear everything you’re saying. Please don’t embarrass her.”
“Ahem.” Ella reached out and covered my hands with her much smaller ones. With a surprisingly firm grip, she swiveled them so that the camera was once again facing her. Only then did she let me go. “You’re not embarrassing me. Ignore him,” she told my parents. “Now, what was that you were saying about how stunningly beautiful I am?”
She managed to surprise a laugh out of them.
“And you’ve got a good sense of humor too,” Mom said, smiling brighter than I’d seen in weeks. “No wonder your cards are so funny.”
Ella glanced up at me with a ridiculous, self-congratulatory grin on her face, managing to look like she was swaggering while standing completely still. “This is doing wonders for my ego.”
My parents, right on cue, laughed again.
Mom was the first to sober. “How’s he doing?” she asked Ella, as if I wasn’t standing right here.
Are youfuckingkidding me, Mom?I wanted to shout. She trusted the word about my wellbeing from a stranger she just met via FaceTime more than my own assurances that I was fine? I was so over this bullshit. What would it take for her to back off? I honestly didn’t know anymore. Maybe my therapist would. I made a mental note to call him later.
Ella snuck a look at me. I’m not sure what she saw on my face that made her chew on her lip. A second later, she looked down at the phone, back at me, and then held out her hand.
I gladly passed it to her.
