Page 80 of Fire

Dad’s controlling. Overbearing. Domineering, even. But surely he wouldn’t do something so deceitful, so duplicitous, so hurtful…especially when he saw how much it broke me to think Micah abandoned me. He wouldn’t destroy his only daughter.

Would he?

“Now why would he do that?” Mom sounds genuinely flummoxed by the suggestion.

“Because he wanted me dependent on him, the same way you are.” I clamp a hand over my mouth. It makes a terrible kind of sense. What if, all these years I thought Micah was an asshole, because my own father did something so despicable, so unforgivable…

“You’ve been listening to my mother.” For some, anger is hot, all fire and flash. For my mom, it’s a frozen wasteland.

I shiver, but instead of apologizing, I double down. “I have been listening to her. You should too. My life has gotten so much better since I started taking her advice.”

“You keep saying that. ‘My life is so much better.’ But where’s the proof?”

“It’s in the way I feel! Like I can express myself without fear! It’s in the way Micah looks at me. It’s Nell, surrounded by family, thriving.”

“Thriving.” Mom chokes on the word.

“Yes! She’s thriving. She’s her vivacious, superhero loving self and doesn’t have to hear how she isn’t ladylike or that she’s inappropriate or that everything about her needs to be small and contained and the complete opposite of the way she is.”

“And you don’t think it’s important for her to learn boundaries?” Funny how she can use that word without scoffing like she did when I used it.

“There’s a difference between boundaries and, and…” The word dances around my head, just out of reach. “And abuse!” I finally shout.

Mom laughs. “Abuse? You grew up wealthy, with two parents actively involved in your life, your health, your well-being. The only thing you didn’t have was financial support when it came to childcare for the baby you shouldn’t have had. And suddenly you’re abused?”

“There’s a fine line between guidance and control. Between being supported and being forced into dependance.”

“And what is that difference, Ivy?”

I start to doubt myself. I’ve been so righteous in my stance, so certain Julian and Dad were bad for me, but what if…?

No. There are no ‘what ifs’ here. I know how I feel when I’m with them and it isn’t good. “It’s hard to define,” I say, “but I know it when I see it.”

“I see.” Mom’s heavy sigh has me ready to open her eyes to the truth.

“But do you?” I ask. “Do you see how you never say what you’re thinking? How you always agree with Dad on the outside, even when you don’t on the inside? You always take his side, even when it kills you.”

“Maybe I always take his side because he’s right. He’s strong when I’m weak. He can draw the hard lines when I’d be…”

“Reasonable? Realistic? Kind? Come on, Mom. Part of you has to know that the way we live, it’s joyless. Nothing’s ever good enough.”

“Your father’s good for me. And he’s good for you.”

“He has his thumb on you so hard you can’t breathe. I know you feel it. I know it.”

There’s a moment of silence. Me, standing in the kitchen, and her so quiet she must be holding her breath. Maybe she heard me. Maybe she’s finally going to admit she’s unhappy with my father. Maybe she’ll break the pattern like Grandma did, like I did. Maybe we’ll all find the strength to set ourselves free so Nell will have three strong women to look up to on my side of the family and an army on Micah’s.

“I love you, Ivy.” There’s goodbye in my mother’s voice. “I love you and I miss you and I’m sorry you feel like this.” She’s retreating. “You can’t begin to understand what you mean to me.”

I know how much I love my daughter, so I have an idea what I mean to her. The difference is that I’m making the hard choice for Nell’s health and well-being, while my mother is still too afraid.

“I love you too, Mom. So much. Enough to say things I know you don’t want to hear. Enough to have this uncomfortable conversation so that maybe, you’ll find ways your life needs to change. I know you don’t agree with all of Dad’s choices. I know you don’t like the way he treats you, the way he treats me and Nell. I know it. I feel it because I lived it. And maybe you’re not ready to accept that, but when you are, I’m here. Me and Grandma and Nell. The four of us can figure all this out together. Life doesn’t have to be joyless, and it doesn’t have to be for somebody else all the time. Sometimes, it’s okay to do things just for you.”

Mom takes a shaky breath. She’s crying and I want to reach through the phone and hug her tight because I hate that she’s hurting and scared and confused. The part of her that knows what I’m saying is true is small and buried under decades of my father eroding her confidence. I felt the same way when I started talking to Grandma, but only had a few years of Julian to get out of my system. Grandma was forced into the realization when Grandpa passed away, but Mom? She’s been trapped in the relationship for so long, she can’t tell if I’m crazy or if she is.

“I love you,” she whispers through tears. “I’m so sorry…I just…we’ll talk later, okay? When you’ve had a chance to calm down and are thinking more clearly.”

The line goes dead and I sigh, wiping away tears of my own. She heard me. I know it. And while she’s not ready to talk about it now, maybe she’ll be ready to have a conversation soon.

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