Page 60 of Someone Like Me
I blink. “What does that mean?”
Janine brushes her ponytail over her shoulder. “A pseudo-martyr is someone who makes a sacrifice, perhaps for a number of reasons, but makes a show out of their suffering. In some cases, the reason they make the sacrifice may be simply to make a show of their suffering.”
I exhale a sigh. “That’s Tori, alright.”
Janine nods. “If that’s her M.O., then despite what she says, she’s getting something she wants out of this arrangement, beyond the payoff your Mom and Dad have offered her.”
Payoff.The word make me shudder.
I press fingers to my temples. “It all sounds so shady. How could they be so secretive and… and… underhanded.”
Janine’s smile is gentle. “I know you feel manipulated, and there’s probably a sense of betrayal too—”
“Uh, yeah.” My words drip with sarcasm.
“And you have every right to.” The cast of her eyes tells me she means it. “But in terms of family dysfunction, this is pretty mild.”
I know she’s right, but I still—
“But you still feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under you,” she says, naming the experience perfectly.
“Yes. And I’m angry,” I admit.
“Good,” she says with an encouraging nod. “Anger is a boundary-building emotion. Your family has disregarded your boundaries and your autonomy in some pretty fundamental ways. Your feelings are absolutely normal. And necessary.”
I wrinkle my nose. “So you don’t think it was impulsive to leave in the middle of the night.”
She stifles a laugh, but I can tell she’s not laughing at me. “I would have been disappointed in you if you’d stayed. Especially if you felt that your well-being and sense of self required you to leave.”
I think I’ve made the right decision, but it’s good to hear that Janine agrees.
She frowns, leans over Aaron, lifts one of his legs, and sniffs his diaper. “False alarm,” she mutters before looking back at me. She waits for me to stop laughing before she moving on. “So, do you know what comes next for you? What your next move is?”
Despite my confidence in this decision, my stomach tightens at the thought. “Well, I need to find an apartment. Or a roommate,” I qualify. “And I need to find second job. Soon.”
Janine chews her bottom lip, nodding slowly. “James and I actually talked about that this morning.” A bashful smile lights her face. “Well…after…”
“Aaron close your ears,” I whisper, making us both laugh.
“Actually, we talked about Aaron, too,” she says, her face sobering.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well…” She draws her shoulders up in a kind of self-conscious shrug. “What do you think about staying in the guest room and helping out with the baby… you know… until you find something more permanent?”
My breath catches. “What?”
Janine grimaces. “I told James you’d never want to. I mean, who wants to spend their nights with a screaming infant?” She slaps her hand over her mouth, realizing what she’s just said, and her gaze falls on Aaron. “Oh, my angel, Mommie loves you so much. I’d spend every night with you no matter how much you scream—”
“Janine—”
“I didn’t mean to sound like—”
“Janine, I’d love to.”
She halts her maternal guilt-induced apology and looks up me. “What?”
I sink down from the kitchen chair to a spot on the floor beside her and Aaron. “If the rent’s not too high, I’d love to stay and help—”
