“I am not the family lodestar. We don’t even have a lodestar.”
“Sure you are! Even Ryan is still trying to tag along with you.”
There was a soft knock at the door, and she turned. Harrison was standing on the threshold. It was sleeting, and he was getting wet.
“For heaven’s sake, come in,” she said, gesturing for him to enter.
“Who’s that?” Julie asked.
“A friend,” Amy said. “I’ll call you back?”
“Afrieeend,” Julie repeated, giggling.
It was amazing how quickly they could revert to middle school. “Bye, Julie,” she said, and clicked off.
“I hope you didn’t end the call because of me. I don’t want to disturb you.”
“You’re way too late for that,” Amy said with a wry smile. “My family beat you to it. And may I add they have disturbed me greatly.”
“I can see how that might be. I myself was not expecting another…” He rubbed his chin, as if thinking of the right word.
“Invasion?” Amy offered helpfully.
“Yeah, that.”
“Me either,” she said, and sank down onto the bed. “I owe you an apology, Harrison. I am beginning to think it’s my fault that this has happened.”
“Yourfault? How do you figure?”
“Because I’m the one everyone in the family comes to with problems. Or entertainment. Or gatherings, no matter how big or small. Worse, I’ve trained them to do that.” It was becoming clear to her, how she’d invited this behavior over the years. “Come over and let’s talk,” she’d say to her mother or father or brother. Hell, even to Ryan after they split. She took it upon herself to host family gatherings at holidays and special occasions because, as she’d said more than once, it just made sense. How did it make sense? And no one ever argued with her. “I didn’t consciously do it, but the situation has evolved, to the point that they don’t think anything of trampling on my time.”
“You obviously care a lot about them,” Harrison said.
“But the thing is, I don’t know if I can change myself without changing my entire family. I think in order for me to change, we all have to change.”
“Don’t say that,” Harrison said. “If you talked to them, I’m sure they’d understand your desire to grow.”
“Really? Because they didn’t understand this week when I asked them to give me this time. They are bringing their problems to me anyway.Why have I not realized this before?” She began to pace. “I am the center of the family because I put myself there, and they expect me to solve their issues. Why did I allow them to become so dependent on me?” Why hadn’t she ever evenquestionedit? She could remember, even at the age of twelve years old, mediating an argument between Kevin and her mother. How was she supposed to become an artist, and all that entailed, when her role in the family was so embedded in all their lives?
She should have known that she couldn’t do this, that she couldn’t magically transform herself into being the artist she had fancied herself to be in her twenties. Sure, she could paint as a hobby, but to make a serious run at it? To put in the time and effort that it required? Just to capture the ideas in her brain and transfer it to something recognizable on a canvas took more time than a few hours here and there. She needed to sit with it, to think through the art. That felt impossible if there was someone constantly seeking her approval or opinion or permission or help.
She had waited too long to pursue this dream. She was too old now.
She turned and looked at Harrison. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Can’t do what, exactly?”
“Become an artist. I can dabble. I can make it my hobby. But I can’tbeone. Or at least not the one I’ve held in my head. I can’t recapture who I was thirty years ago, not without disappointing a lot of people.”
He frowned. “What about disappointing yourself?”
His question landed with a sickening thud in her gut. Disappointment was something she lived with constantly, existing on the edge of her thoughts. It was that gnawing feeling that she’d given up too much of herself. “I think that ship has sailed,” she said quietly.
“Hey, hey,” he said, and came forward to put his arms around her. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just saying that your wants deserve consideration, too—it’s your life, after all. I think maybe you’re getting too into your head.”
That was exactly what Julie would say. It was possible—she sort of routinely allowed her thoughts to gallop away from her. But she was also a pragmatist and couldn’t really see the situation another way.
“Change is so damn hard at this stage of life,” he said, and rested his chin on the top of her head. “When you’re twenty, who cares if you blow through money or make a course correction? When you’re fifty, there is too much riding on a whim.”
