Ugh. I can’t decide if I want to cry or throw up.
“Auntie Victoria, you want?” Charlie proffers a forkful of waffle, syrup dripping everywhere.
“No, sweetie, you eat it. I’m good.” I sit next to him, absently mopping up the trail of syrup with a napkin.
“We going to play soccer today?” Dad asks Charlie.
“Yay!” Charlie lifts his arms in the air, still holding the fork and sending syrup flying.
“Charlie, be careful,” I admonish gently, prying the fork from his sticky fingers. I get up, grab a wet rag, and wipe up yet another mess.
“You should eat,” Mom says, putting a plate in front of me.
“I’ll have one,” I say, reaching for the butter. Then I turn to my dad. “Are you seeing Dr. Cooper this week?”
He grunts again. “Nah. I’m fine.”
I look to my mother and she purses her lips. “Rodney, we agreed. Your blood pressure has been extremely high.”
“It was a couple of days when I was stressed. It’s better now. Stop fussing.”
“You promised you would have a physical,” Mom says, trying again. “You promised.”
He rolls his eyes. “Barb, I said I’m fine. Leave it alone.”
My mother turns back to the waffle iron, her posture rigid.
“Dad, why don’t you want to see the doctor?” I push. “Do you want to die and leave Charlie without his grandpa?” Anything to do with Charlie is usually a good way to make him listen.
“I’m fine!” he snaps. “Jesus, living with three nagging women is a pain in my ass. How about you and me go have some boy-only time after breakfast?” He turns his attention to Charlie, who nods happily.
I stuff the waffle in my mouth, get up from the table, and put my dish in the dishwasher with a huff.
“Well, it’s your funeral,” I tell my father before grabbing my coffee and walking out of the kitchen. I hear my parents bickering behind me but I don’t care. I’m going to cry again and definitely don’t want them to see it.
Frustration fills me and it’s hard to identify what I’m feeling beyond the obvious. Of course, I’m hurt and heartbroken that Jordan broke up with me. But it’s the frustration that’s eating me up.
Frustration with my father for being so unyielding about almost everything.
Frustration with my mother for never standing up to him.
Frustration with my sister who relies on me too much when it comes to dealing with our parents.
And then frustration with myself for letting them make me feel bad every time I try to assert any semblance of independence.
I’m an adult.
Yes, I rely on them to a degree but I pay for everything I need outside of food and shelter. I don’t discount those things—I couldn’t afford to live on my own—but they offered. They told me to live at home so I wouldn’t graduate with a lot of student loan debt. It shouldn’t come with restrictions.
Especially not now that I’m about to graduate.
Have they suddenly realized they’re about to lose me and they’re tightening the reins to keep me close for as long as possible? Or is this about Jordan specifically? It could be a combination of the two, but Ivy is on the verge of moving out as well, and I understand that might be jarring for them. However, guilting us into staying, and making it difficult for us to spread our wings feels wrong too.
I don’t know what to do or who to turn to.
My friends from school and work don’t understand and my new friends, the ladies I’ve met through Jordan, probably think I’m an idiot.
Closing my eyes, I rest my head against the door of the bathroom, desperate to come up with a solution.
