I scoff at that. He really thinks I’m delusional. I start to leave but stop again.
“I want the best for her too. I want her to look her best and present herself in the best possible way,” explains Mom.
“She is all of those things. She’s beautiful. Her manners are impeccable. And that’s all thanks to you, Candy. But you go too far with her. I’ve watched you talk down to her and berate her when she doesn’t deserve it. I’ve let you handle all of those things so far because you’re her mom and mothers and daughters should work together, but it’s gone on long enough. It’s time for me to step in. We need to let her grow up and find her own happiness. Let’s allow her to be who she's supposed to be.”
“Well, I want that too. I’m not trying to stifle that, Jim.”
“Actually, I think you might be trying to stifle that to create her in your own image. You’ve got to remember, she’s five feet three inches tall, and she’s built just likeyourmother.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” Mom sounds horrified.
“Candace, she’s never going to be you—five feet nine and slim. She’s never going to look like you. She’s voluptuous. She’s nineteen, and her body is what it is. It’s not going to change no matter how much vegetarian lasagna and fresh fruit you make her eat.”
Mom scoffs.
“She eats relatively healthy foods, and that’s thanks to you. You’ve taught her how to do that.”
“If she would exercise more—” Mom tries to explain.
“Candy, we all could exercise more. It’s not just Stella. Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt. We’ve kept a tight rein on her for her entire life. Maybe we need to trust that we did a good job and let her make some of her own choices now.”
“Do you mean let her be an art major?” Mom scoffs again. “Where did that come from anyway?”
“She’s always loved art. From the time she could hold a crayon, she’s been making art. So, yeah, maybe I am. I could think of worse things she could do. For example, not finishing college because she hates what she’s doing. That’s number one on the list. How would you have liked to have your parents dictate what you studied in college? As I recall, your mom wanted you to major in home economics.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me, Jim.”
“The point is, you did what you wanted to do, Candy.”
“I know, but I chose mathematics, a solid degree.”
“That you haven’t used,” he reminds her. “Don’t look at me like that, Candy. You know what I mean. I want her to decide what’ll make her happy. She’s a talented painter. I know you’ve noticed.”
“She is, but painting is just a hobby.”
“Not to everyone it’s not. I’m ready to let Stella make some choices. And you need to figure out a way to make things right with your daughter. If you don’t, there’ll be a cavernous divide in your relationship forever. If she has children, you may never get to see them if you continue treating her like she’s not good enough. She may not want that type of attitude around her own children.”
“Jim! What are you saying to me?” I can hear Mom sniffling. She’s crying? She rarely cries. Even so, I find it hard to feel sorry for her.
After listening to their talk, I decide that I’m not as angry as I was and choose to stay overnight. But I won’t go to the barbecue. I’ve endured enough for one weekend.
It was a fascinating conversation, though. I wonder if anything will change. Tiptoeing back upstairs, I make sure to be as quiet as possible. I don’t want them to know I was in earshot of their little discussion. Once in my room, I plop down on my bed and sigh. What a night. What a day. I’m exhausted. I smile remembering how my day started––in Alex’s bed with his arm wrapped around me. A shiver runs through me at the memory. My good thoughts are marred by the memory of Bradley in my dorm room. “What did I ever see in Bradley?” Or better yet, how did I let myself believe Bradley actually cared for me? I should have known on the 4thof July, the day my future was planned out for me, that something was amiss. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to avoid thinking about that day, but no matter how much I try, the memories keep trying to weasel themselves to the surface.
After Bradley’s sweet proposal and the fireworks, he and I walked down by the lake. He took my hand, and we strolled away from prying eyes. When we were far enough away, I stepped up onto my tiptoes and leaned in to kiss him. He’s not super tall, probably five foot nine inches, but I’m only five foot three inches so, I had to stretch up to reach his lips. He kissed me back—no tongue, of course. I thanked him again for the beautiful ring and the romantic gesture. He told me that he wanted to show everyone how much I meant to him. That’s why he did it so publicly.
After the kiss, I told Bradley I was ready for us to move on to the next level, and by next level, I meant sex. Heck, I think I would have accepted touching or groping of any kind. I mean, I was eighteen going on nineteen and still a virgin! We’d been together for almost a year. I thought it was time, especially since he was promised to me.
But Bradley wasn’t convinced. He said he thought we should wait. He wanted to do it at a special time and place. He said he’d plan something for us in the near future so that we could take that important step. Reluctantly, I agreed. I mean, what else could I do?
After our embarrassing little talk, we rushed back to join our friends. I went to join Lily while Bradley joined all of his fraternity brothers. Lily’s known me since first grade. She could tell when something was wrong with me before I knew it sometimes.
“What’s wrong?” Lily asked.
I shrugged, not ready to admit that Bradley turned me down, again. Lily didn’t relent. So, I told her.
Lily rolled her eyes. “You know he’s not a virgin, right?”
I shrugged again. I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected. After all, he was two years older than me and going to be a junior in college. I assumed he had experience. “I know. I guess Bradley just wants to make it special.”
