Rude Boss

“Chile, if you—”

“I know you both don’t particularly care for what I’ve done or who I’ve become, but I am who I am and I like this version of myself.”

“You know what I find interesting, though,” Dad says. “When Quintessa came looking for you, she was looking for the real you—the boy from high school who would’ve grown up into himself. She was looking for Stewart Dennis, Jr.—not this Essex DePaul character you’ve become.”

“Character?”

“Yes. Character—someone you’re portraying. Not yourself. I’m your father and I barely recognize you so how on earth would she?”

Though I’m fuming inside, I keep my composure when I stand and ask, “So, what would you have me do now? What’s done is done.”

“You’re right,” Mother says. “What’s done is done, and we will live with the consequences of our actions, won’t we?”

“Facts,” I say. “And on that note, I’ll grab some lunch on the way home because I thought I was coming over here to spend time with my folks—not be rebuked about my decisions.”

“Son,” Dad says, trying to garner my attention while I’m walking away from the table, but it’s too late for that. I’m beyond listening to anything they have to say at this point. It shouldn’t be this way when I visit. I was reluctant to come here for this very reason.

I say, “I’m good, Dad. I’ll see you.”

I continue to the car and just sit there for a moment, feeling like I’ve somehow failed them. At this stage in my life, how is it that I’m feeling good about myself and my accomplishments but my parents continue to harp on all the changes I made to make myself a better person? How does that work?