“Am I on a schedule now, Aileen?”
I cringed at the arch question. No one on Earth could make me feel as stupid or guilty with a single sentence like my mother could.
“No, of course not, Mom. That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh?”
There was a long pause that I refused to rush to fill.
I loved my mother more than words could express, but I also found her to be one of the most frustrating individuals I’d ever met. She had ways of reducing me to that child I used to be who never felt good enough.
When I was around my family, I tended to forget who I wanted to be and regress to a person I neither liked nor knew. Especially these days. As a result, I limited my interaction with them as much as possible. This would have been easier if I hadn’t come back to Columbus when I got out of the military. But this was home. And even if they frustrated the living daylights out of me, they were family.
“Your sister told me of her visit.”
Of course, she did.
“And?” The confrontational question was out before I could stop it.
“You can’t keep doing this. You need help.”
“I don’t need help. There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Aileen,” she said in that soft way she had. It was the tone she used when she wanted me to know I was wrong, but she loved me anyway. “You know that’s not true.”
I couldn’t do this now.
“I’m at work. I can’t talk.”
There was a frustrated sigh. We sat on the line in silence, anger crackling over the line between us.
“Fine. You’re coming to dinner tomorrow night.”
The refusal was already on my lips when she snapped, “I don’t want to hear your excuses. You will be there, Aileen Travers.”
There was no ‘or’. Mom was used to being obeyed.
“I’ll try,” I finally said.
“Don’t try, just do. Dinner will be at 6:30. I expect you to be on time.”
She hung up. I stood there with the phone to my ear. My eyes closed, my head tilted back. Looked like I had dinner plans tomorrow. Just what I needed, another distraction. It was another ball to add to the ones I was already juggling.
“This is why most of us cut ties when we join this world,” the boy said.
I had forgotten him in the exchange with my mom.
“I’m not disappearing from their lives.”
“It’d be easier on everyone. It’s not like they’d accept you if they knew. They’d call you a monster and probably try to stake you.” He seemed sad as he delivered his advice.
“Is that what happened to you? Your family freaked out when they found out what you could do?”
He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “You should leave while you still have pleasant memories.”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Your life.”
