So, there I was, wearing something other than pajamas for the first time in two weeks, having actually bothered with makeup for the first time in two weeks, and standing on my parents’ porch. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I felt silly doing that. I had a key in my purse and had never knocked on my parents’ door in my life. There was movement just beyond the door, and I could hear my mother’s voice. For a second, I wondered if I could run to the car, get in, and peel away before she opened it.
The door swung open and my mother pulled me in for a hug in one motion. It was like being attacked by an extremely squishy bear that smelled like jasmine and cotton. There was a general greeting as if I hadn’t run out of their house yelling and angry and then hadn’t talked to them in weeks. She guided me into the dining room, and I stopped cold. Sitting on one side of the table, beside my father at the head, was my brother. Nick smiled like nothing was wrong and stood.
I took a step back.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Nick asked, looking hurt. “Wait, you didn’t tell her I was coming?”
Mom looked befuddled, and I immediately put two and two together. Dad sat his drink down on the table and cast a look at Mom like he had thought she might do something like this but wouldn’t dare not tell him. Then she went and did it anyway. So it went with my mother.
“I just wanted to heal this little rift in my family,” she said, her voice rising higher with each word, like she thought the higher her pitch, the truer the words sounded.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nick said, cutting through her words. “She’s right. We need to nip this in the bud, now.”
“Nip what?” I asked. Nick looked over to our father, and they nodded to each other. “What exactly is going on.”
“Nothing, honey,” Mom said. “Let’s just all sit down and have something to eat.”
She guided me to a chair, and I went somewhat begrudgingly. I was not liking the way Nick was talking at all, and the fact that it seemed like whatever he was thinking was something he colluded with Dad on made me nervous. Neither one of them had any room to talk when it came to what I was doing with my life.
We ate in mostly silence, with moments where my mother would randomly try to start conversations by asking me or Nick how our day was, or if we had done anything fun lately. Mostly, we replied in one- or two-word answers. I forced myself through most of my dinner and patted my lips with the napkin, fully intending on leaving, when Nick eyed me from across the table.
“Becca,” he said, “we all really wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Well, I’m here, so go for it,” I said, completely done with the bullshit. If they wanted a fight, they were going to get it.
“It’s just that…” Dad began.
“We heard what happened with Tyler from Nick,” Mom said. “We all agreed that it’s too soon for you to be jumping into another relationship, with anyone. It’s just not a good idea at the moment.” She smiled as if she didn’t just try to stage an intervention with her fully grown adult daughter over her love life.
I put down the napkin and sighed. I wanted to maintain as much control as possible. The last thing I needed was to make this the last day I saw any one of them.
“I have been single now for a few months now, and I am finally happy.” I sat up in a firm way, trying my best to exhibit adult doneness, yet not bitchiness. That would only give them more ammo for a future argument. But if I played it right, I could get them off my backs. At least for now.
There was silence in the room for a moment and then the scraping of forks as the three of them went back to their food. I hesitated but let a small grin cross one side of my face. It was a small victory, but a victory, nonetheless. They dropped the issue, and I decided to stay for a little longer so as to not end the night on a bad note. Eventually, conversation slipped back into play, and while a little forced, it was casual and easier.
When dinner was over, I noticed a troubled look on Nick’s face. It was as if he was wrestling with something but didn’t quite know what to do or say about it. As mad as I was at him, I felt for him, too. He was my brother, and as much as I didn’t want him trying to run my life, I had to realize that to him, he was protecting me.