1
NORA
I’M NOT A GOOD LIAR.
A lot of people naturally are, though … Patrick Bateman, Joe Goldberg.They can make you believe almost anything.They can charm you, excite you, make you feel as if you’re part of something.Make you believe the best in them.That their intentions are pure.
Why I thought I could lie in this instance is beyond me.I couldn’t have picked a worse situation or group of people to have lied to.My mouth moved, the words came out, and my brain was left in some sort of lag.
I don’t want to be a liar.In fact, I despise that trait in someone else, but when it comes to my judgemental family and suffocating anxiety, it’s easier to lie.Facing the truth – admitting it out loud – can be difficult sometimes.
The conversation around the table halts.The weight of several piercing gazes falls upon me and I stiffen in my seat, feeling my neck heat up.Hazel eyes blink back at me.The longer I stare back at everyone, the creepier they get.They all possess a stiffness in their shoulders that never seems to ease.A tightness in the corners of their mouths that makes them always look unimpressed by whatever I have just done or said.The slight tilt of their heads as they assess me, sizing me up, trying to find my weak spots.Maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but that’s how it feels.
My father has become just like them.
The two sides of my family are very different.There’s my mother’s side: warm, kind, loving.A little out there at times, but that’s what I love about them.The kind of people who would give you the shirt off their back.Then, there’s the other side: my dad’s a doctor; my stepmum, Michelle, is a lawyer; my two stepsiblings are a surgeon and a professor.I’m certainly the odd one out when it comes to what I wanted for a career.
While I might share the same dark brunette hair and blue eyes as my dad, that’s where the similarities end.His new family are all tall, with long blonde hair and the kind of stick-thin bodies that someone like me could only dream about.I honestly couldn’t be more opposite – something they love to remind me of every chance they get.Having a partner, building a financially sound career and owning your home is an absolutemustfor them.Anyone who does not tick those boxes is simply inadequate.The fact that I’m about three sizes bigger than each of them seems to be another drama.I mean, I feel ultimately pretty normal among other people, but when I’m around my family, they make me feel as if I’m the size of a house.
‘What did you say?’Lindsay, the professor, asks.
‘I—’ I stammer, my eyes darting around at the curious faces staring back at me.
‘You’re bringing a plus one?’she prompts, brows inching up her forehead, as if she hadn’t frequently stressed that I should be putting more effort into finding someone to bring along.I still don’t understand why having a partner is the be-all and end-all to life.‘To the wedding?’
‘Yup,’ I reply, my voice coming out a little too high as I nod, reaching for my water.
My stepmum glances at my father, and I don’t miss their exchange of surprise.The thought of me bringing a date to afamily function shouldn’t be this big a deal, but the fact that I am single and don’t ever go on dates is just unacceptable in their eyes.Sometimes I wonder if they think my being solo somehow reflects poorly on the family.As if it is an embarrassment, or something.
‘I didn’t realise you were seeing someone,’ Michelle says, looking at her daughter this time, as if I can’t read between the lines.‘This must be new?’
‘It is.’
‘Fantastic!’my father says.It’s difficult to tell what he’s thinking or feeling, since his expression remains the same.His thick eyebrows are usually bent towards each other, like he’s scrutinising every detail about the thing before him.It’s unnerving when the thing that he’s scrutinising is me.‘Look forward to meeting him.Comes from a good family, yes?What does he do for work?’
‘How did you meet him?’Kyle interjects in the same plain, unemotional voice he uses in the operating theatre.
My mouth feels paper-dry as I lower my gaze to my plate, avoiding their looks.I haven’t got any answers prepared or thought through the consequences of what I just said, but there’s no going back now.
‘What does he do?’Michelle queries when I fail to reply quickly enough.
Stabbing my fork into the broccoli in front of me, I shove it into my mouth to buy myself some time to gather my thoughts, since no one’s wasting any time hurling questions at me.
My stomach twists.I wish I had the strength to decline the offer of these family dinners because they cause me nothing but anxiety, but when it comes to family, I feel powerless to stand up for myself.When I’m alone, it’s easy to think that next time will be different and I’ll fight back, but then I’m here in front of them, pinned beneath their gazes, feeling smaller than I’ve ever felt in my life.
It was wishful thinking to hope that the conversation might move along to something else.Reluctantly, I swallow the food and answer.
‘He’s at university.Like me.’
‘What’s he studying?’Kyle asks, leaning onto his forearms and staring at me expectantly, as if I should have my imaginary boyfriend’s portfolio hidden in my handbag, ready to pull out for them to examine.
‘Do you have a photo?’Lindsay asks.
‘How did you meet?In class?’Michelle questions at the same time.
I’m finding it difficult to breathe.
Suddenly, a loud ringing echoes through the house and everyone looks towards the front door.Dad purses his lips, shaking his head in irritation, as if someone just cut in front of him on the highway.
