Page 87 of Tripped Up

“Wyatt?” Confusion laces her tone. “Why are you calling me?”

Because I don’t. My teammates might call their moms daily, but I probably only call home once every few weeks. It’s my sister I talk to much more often.

“Just wanted to say hi.” I hold my breath.

“Hello?” She gives an awkward laugh. “How are things? Bex said she visited you.”

“Yeah. She came for the weekend.”

That was nearly a month ago. It’s been that long since I called home. And it’s not like she’s called me in the time since. It’s always me reaching out.

“How nice.”

A stilted silence stretches between us.

“I’m dating someone,” I blurt out.

“Oh. Okay?”

I’ve never brought a girlfriend home, not since high school.

“I’m dating someone and it’s serious,” I continue. Running my palms over my pants, I exhale again, focusing on my breathing. “I love her. She might be the one. And I just… I wanted you to know.”

“That’s great, Wyatt.” There’s a warmth in my mother’s voice that wasn’t there before. “What’s her name? Can we meet her?”

“Her name is Elsy. She’s friends with Bex. You met her at the Stanford graduation.”

“Oh.” I can tell she doesn’t know how to take that. “And your sister is okay with this?”

“She’s happy for us,” I say firmly. “I was thinking… maybe you and Dad could come to Austin for a weekend? You can meet her again. Properly, this time.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

She can’t even pretend to be enthusiastic. My heart breaks. Why is it that nothing I do is ever good enough?

“I’ll send you the tickets, and I can handle all the arrangements.” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. Why can’t they at least pretend to be interested in me? “I want you to get to know her.”

“It’s serious?” Mom asks.

She’s not listening to me; I just told her it was.

“As soon as she’s ready, I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

When it’s time, I won’t ask for my grandmother’s ring, even though it’s been passed down through the family for three generations. I’ll buy her a new one—without strings and ugly memories attached.

“Wow.”

I absolutely hate this. Why do I keep putting myself through this torture, trying to make my parents love me when they clearly don’t care? Why do I keep reaching out, knowing they will rebuff me at every turn?

No more. I can’t put myself through this anymore. It hurts too much.

I have to let them go.

“Let me know what weekend will be good for you to visit.”

I’m putting the ball in their court. If they don’t give me a date, I won’t book the tickets. If they don’t put in at least a modicum of effort, I’m dropping the rope. They can figure it out.

When I have kids, if Elsy and I have kids, they likely won’t know their grandparents. And although part of me is sad about that, another part of me is relieved. I don’t have to keep killing myself, forcing a relationship they clearly don’t want. I don’t have to keep putting myself out there for people who won’t do the same in return.