The answer has my heart sinking to my feet.
The fight we had at karaoke night nearly two weeks ago. That was the last time.
“Well, do you try to talk to her?” Will asks.
“I do, but it’s hard.” I deposit the wrench on the brand new sink, instead focusing on scratching my cuticles. “My job’s been running me ragged. By the time I’m home, I’m exhausted, and Rachel is already done with dinner with the kids. I haven’t touched my game project in, like, over a year.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
Will enjoys playtesting the small game concept I’ve been developing on my own time.
When I had my own time.
“There’s that, and then there’s dealing with family stu—” I stop myself, but it’s too late.
Will’s eyes narrow slightly. “Family stuff. You mean your mom?”
I focus intently on the cuticle of my thumb. I don’t know what Rachel has told Will, but my immediate urge is to come to Mom’s defense.
“She means well.”
“Yeah?” Will’s voice is carefully neutral, but an edge hides underneath. “Does she mean well when she undermines Rachel's parenting decisions? Or when she shows up unannounced and expects everyone to drop everything for her? Or when she asks you to cancel your plans with us?”
“It's not that simple.” I pull on a stray piece of cuticle and draw blood. “She’s family, and—”
“I'm going to stop you right there, because I need you to understand something.” Will sets down the pipe he's holding and turns to face me fully. “You need to remember where Rachel’s coming from, man. And you know exactly what Rachel and I did when our parents became toxic. We went no contact. Cold turkey. It was the hardest thing we’ve ever done, but we did it because we had to protect Océane. And ourselves.”
His eyes are hard. I let out a small grunt.
“So,” he continues, “you can imagine that the type of blind devotion you have towards your parents is a bit hard for us to understand.”
My large hand bangs against the counter as I set it down too hard. “That's different. Your parents we—”
“Abusive? Yeah. But toxicity comes in many forms, man.” Will’s voice softens. “Look, I'm not saying your mom is anything like our parents. That’d be completely ridiculous. And I know she’s been dealing with a lot, with the cancer and all. But to me and Rachel, blood isnotthicker than water. She might not understand why someone would let their family walk all over them.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t raised that way,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “Family is everything. You don’t turn your back on family. No matter what.”
I can’t imagine being in the same scenario as Will, Rachel, and Océane, and having to choose to go no contact with theirparents. My parents put a lot of pressure on me, but they’ve been my rock throughout my life.
Will picks up the pipe again, but his eyes stay locked on mine. “You married Rachel. She’s your family too.”
The words hit me as hard as if Will had struck me across the face with the pipe.
Of course, Rachel is my family. She’s the mother of my children, the love of my life, my partner in everything. Or at least, she used to be.
When did I stop treating her that way?
Chapter 9
Karan
December 2015
Inever would have predicted how much joy it brings me to see the two most important women in my life doing each other’s nails, their smiles splitting their faces, both of them nearly out of breath from how much they keep talking to each other.
But it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
Aunt Jocelyne sits next to Mom and Rachel at her worn kitchen table, watching Mom’s handiwork like a hawk. On the other side of the open-concept room of Jocelyne’s cabin, Dad adds more wood to the fire stove while I’m refilling the plate of Christmas snacks and desserts at the kitchen counter. Jocelyne has put on some Québécois folk tunes from La Bottine Souriante, music she only plays during this time of the year.
