Page 33 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
“What’s there to talk about?” Mom’s voice has that edge to it now. “She can’t come. You said yourself she probably can’t get the time off.”
“That’s not the point. You didn’t even consider including her.”
Mom’s lips press into a thin line. “Adam Kelly, I raised you better than this. Millie needs you. Her father is dead, and this holiday is going to be excruciating for her. All we’re asking is that you be there for her, like you’ve always been.”
I stand up, needing to move, to escape the pressure building in my chest. Through the window, I can see the tree house Dad and Eric built when I was ten. Millie and I had many adventures in that treehouse. And when she was sick with cancer, we’d lay up there for hours, Millie wrapped up in a giant quilt, talking about her fears, her hopes, all the things she wanted to do when she recovered.
“You can’t abandon her now,” Mom continues, her voice softer but no less insistent. “Not when she’s already lost so much.”
“I’m not abandoning her,” I say, but the words sound hollow even to me. “I’m just… I’m trying to build a life with Caitlin now. I love Caitlin.”
“And you can. No one’s saying you can’t.” Mom stands too, moving to place her hand on my arm. “But this is just one holiday. For a girl who’s been through so much and who cares about you deeply.”
I think of Millie at fourteen, pale and thin in the hospital, squeezing my hand as the chemo dripped into her veins. Of her standing next to me during high school, when we were crowned homecoming king and queen. She’d worn a blue dress that made her eyes look bluer and a wig, because her hair hadn’t grownback yet. I think of her at her father’s funeral, standing stoic and dry-eyed next to her mother until she saw me, and then collapsing into my arms, finally letting herself break.
“Has Millie asked for me to be there?” I need to know if this is Mom’s manipulation or Millie’s genuine need.
Mom hesitates just a beat too long. “Not in so many words. But Rhonda says she’s been having a particularly hard time lately. With the holidays approaching, all those memories of her dad… she could use your support.”
I close my eyes for a moment. When I open them, I’ve made my decision, though it sits like lead in my stomach. “I’ll go. But I’m going to talk to Caitlin first, see if there’s any way she can join us.”
Mom’s smile is triumphant, though she tries to mask it with gratitude. “That’s my boy, always thinking of others.” She squeezes my arm. “I’ve already booked the cabins. I got you your own, of course.”
Of course, she did. She probably booked this weeks, if not months, ago, confident she could wear me down.
“I should get home,” I say, suddenly desperate to see Caitlin, to hold her and apologize for something I haven’t even told her about yet.
“Stay for dinner,” Mom suggests. “Millie and Rhonda are coming over. We can tell them the good news together.”
“I can’t, Mom. Caitlin’s waiting.” I move toward the door, fishing my keys from my pocket. “Tell Millie I said hi, and that I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Mom follows me, her disappointment palpable. “At least take the brochure with you. Show Caitlin what we’re planning.”
I take it just to end the conversation, tucking it into my jacket pocket where it feels like it’s burning a hole against my chest. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Just remember what I said, Adam,” she calls as I step onto the porch. “Family has to come first.”
The door closes behind me, and I stand there for a moment in the cool evening air, wondering when exactly I lost control of my life. Maybe I never had it to begin with. Maybe I’ve always been defined by what others need from me, rather than what I want.
I get into my truck and start the engine, but I don’t pull away immediately. Instead, I take out my phone and look at my last text to Caitlin: “At my parents. Home soon.”
How do I tell the woman I love that I’m leaving her alone on Thanksgiving because my mother and my ex-girlfriend need me more than she does? How do I explain that I’m still untangling myself from the web of obligations that I’ve been caught in since childhood?
I don’t have answers to these questions, only the sinking feeling that I’ve failed Caitlin once again.
I’m already on thin ice with her. Her words from the other night haunt me.
I think we should break up, Adam. I don’t want to do this anymore.
I know she feels like I don’t see her, but I do. I’ve seen her hurt expression every time I’ve needed to leave her to go to Millie. I know I disappointed her on the night of the Halloween party. I feel the growing distance between us, and it kills me. I don’t want to hurt her. But I also have responsibilities to people I knew long before her. Responsibilities I’ve carried for as long as I can remember. And I don’t know how to set them down.
With a heavy sigh, I put the truck in reverse and back out of the driveway, the brochure in my pocket a constant reminder of the choice I’ve just made.
And as I drive towards home, towards Caitlin, I wonder if I’ll ever learn how to choose my happiness over everyone else’s expectations.
10
Chapter 10
