Page 143 of Illegal Formation
“Mom is here, too.”
“Hi, sweetie!” she chimed in somewhere in the background.
“Hey, Mom. How are you guys?”
“We’re just fine. Getting ready to go to dinner with the Archers and then into the city for a show,” Dad said. I heard the groan in his voice. “Your mother is thrilled.”
“Your father is wishing he’d fallen ill so he could get out of it,” Mom added.
I chuckled. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
An odd silence fell between us, just like it always did. But for the first time, I found myself wondering why it was there.
In the past, I’d always ascertained that it was from their disappointment in me, from their lack of connection with the life I led.
But something about what had happened with Braden had me pausing to question that.
My very own Huxley Pause.
Was it really that my parents were disappointed in me, that they saw me as a failure…
Or was it me who felt that way?
“We wanted to check in on you,” Mom said after a moment. “We saw that you danced on Sunday. That must have felt so great! How is the wrist?”
“Still a bit stiff,” I admitted, rolling it with a wince. “But getting better every day. I’m nowhere near tumbling again, but maybe in another month or so I could try with someone spotting me.”
“Just take it easy. Don’t rush too quickly,” Dad said. “We also saw your podcast interview.”
“Oh. That.”
“We loved it,” Mom added.
I couldn’t help my laugh then. “Wait… you did?”
“It made us so proud, you standing up for equality like that. So unflinchingly.” Dad chuckled. “I think you get that bravery from me.”
“And the intelligence to deliver punches from me,” Mom added.
I was still stuck on the wordproud, the one syllable ping ponging in my chest and cracking ribs along the way.
There was another long pause, and then Mom spoke softly. “Emily, we’re sorry.”
“For?” I asked.
“For leaving you when we did. We should have stayed. We came all that way to see you, and then you got hurt, and I know you told us to go, but we should have put our foot down. We should have stayed and helped you. We just…”
Mom’s voice trailed, and I heard Dad comforting her like he’d muffled the phone before he came on to continue for her.
“Your mother and I have felt a bit like… I don’t know. We feel like maybe you don’t want us in your life anymore.”
My stomach bottomed out.
“Of course, I want...” But my voice trailed off, my heart squeezing.
They were being real. They were bringing all the unsaid things to the surface.
It was time for me to be real, too.
