Page 74 of Love Like Lightning

“Do you? Because I can’t remember the last time I heard Henry from anyone here. I know things have been hectic and busy for a while, but it’s been a long time.”

“That can’t be true.” Dad shakes his head, looking disturbed.

“It is, and I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad. I get it. The nickname stuck hard when I was young, and everyone just ran with it. But it’s not who I am, at least not all the time. I’d really like to hear my name from my family more. People in town don’t matter as much to me, but you do,” I tell them emphatically, feeling pressure start building behind my eyes.

“Of course, of course. I’m so sorry Ha—Henry. I don’t think it was a conscious thing. I love your name.” Mom clasps her hands together in front of her, eyes softening.

Before I lose my nerve, I keep going. “I also feel like you still treat me like a child. Any conversation about my business turns into questioning if it’s too much for me. If I’m capable of making things work, expanding, taking care of what needs to be taken care of. I know it comes from a good place, and you don’t want to see me fail, but a little support and belief in me would go a long way.”

I take a quick breath and plunge back in. I don't want anyone to say anything before I can get everything out. “And when it comes to my diabetes…I just need you to trust that I know how to take care of myself. I need you to tell the pharmacy to stop calling you about my business. And yes, I already have, but no one will listen to me. It makes me feel like I’m not my own person, that I can’t function in the world as an adult. And again, I know none of this is what you’re trying to do. I know you love me, all of you.”

I make sure to make eye contact with Mack, meeting her wide eyes. “I deal with a lot of feelings of being incapable and not good enough, and I’m asking that you try not to contribute to that anymore.”

The moment I finish, my body slumps, and I swipe my hand over my face. All the steam that got me through that monologue leaves me in a deep sigh, and I fight to keep eye contact with my parents.

They look as wrung out as I feel. Mom’s eyes are watery, and it looks like she’s trying not to cry. Dad looks despondent, covering his mouth with his hand. I don’t look at Mack, but I can feel how still she’s sitting.

For a moment, we all sit in silence, letting the words that just tumbled from my mouth settle into the walls around us.

“We didn’t know. God, Henry, I’m so sorry. I only ever wanted to take care of you, to make sure you weren’t doing too much, taking on too much.” Mom swipes a hand across her cheek, catching a few stray tears.

“No, I know. I do. It’s just that in the process, you make me feel like you don’t think I can do anything myself. I don’t know how to share my accomplishments with you without worrying about someone saying something that will take my win and put a stain on it.” Speaking honestly, sharing how I feel, it feels so fucking freeing. I don’t know why I didn’t do it sooner. Whether they listen or not, I’m glad I did this.

“Son.” Dad clears his throat, raking the hand that was covering his mouth through his hair. “We never, ever, mean to make you feel like that. I promise we’ll be more mindful with what we say. I promise.”

“We might still mess up…” Mom trails off, looking almost defeated.

“I’ll speak up. I should have been saying something the whole time, setting boundaries.”

“It’s Henry from now on, then?” Mack finally speaks up, much quieter than she usually is.

“Not always, I still love my nickname. I just want you guys to call me by my real name too.” I breathe a sigh of relief that they seem receptive and not defensive. “I’m going to talk to Ian and Art, too. Let them know.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Mom smiles a watery smile and stands. “Can I give you a hug?”

I stand, and a tear of my own escapes down my cheek as I cross the room and open my arms. “Always.” She wraps her arms around me, and my eyes drift closed. Not a moment later, my dad’s arms circle us both and then Mack’s arms trying to wrap around us all.

I imagine how ridiculous we must look, and it brings a smile to my lips. As I lean into the love surrounding me, I’m so incredibly grateful. The only thing that could make this better would be if I could tell Gia about it.

I just know she’d be proud.

32

Henry

Gia: Can we meet to talk? Maybe at the lake?

I look back at the message, a chill starting to set in from sitting in my car. I got here early—earlier than I should have, considering now I have to wait, and the waiting is driving me up the wall.

As some stupid act of maturity, I decided that once we set a time to talk, I wouldn’t text her every thought that crossed my mind. Or try to ask any questions. And now it’s been three whole days, and I’m about to jump out of my skin.

Instead, I jump out of my car and throw the hood of my hoodie up. There are other people walking the path around the lake. A few kids run off in the distance, down the long dock. Their laughter fills the air even from so far away, and I can’t help but smile.

“Hey.” Gia’s voice comes from behind me. I startle and whip around.

Her expression is guarded. Her normal soft smile is nowhere to be seen, and her eyes are clouded. She’s bundled up in a fuzzy-looking gray sweater and dark jeans. She looks sad, and the fact that I’m the one making her feel that way throws me completely off my axis.

I wish I could just say everything’s fine, and we could go back to how we were the day before my parents told us about what was going on. But we have to talk this out.

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