Page 112 of It's Always Sonny

“Mom, don’t say anything.”

“Excuse me?”

“No! I mean it.” My voice shakes with emotion. “You’ve required me to be seen and not heard my entire life, and now it’s your turn to listen. For as long as I can remember, you two have treated me like a shameful inconvenience. How dare you wait until Dad is diagnosed with cancer to decide that I’m worthy of your attention? I don’t know if you finally feel guilty for how you’ve treated me or if you’ve realized how empty your lives are, but I will not be a tool to soothe your conscience or fill some hollow spot in your heart.”

“Parker! I—”

“You don’t get to talk,” I say sharply. My nose and eyes burn, but I’m not ashamed. Not anymore. “You act like I’m unlovable because I’m not perfect, but the truth is that you’re unloving. I’m incredible! And I won’t let you neglect and abuse me for another second. Don’t come here next week. Text me Dad’s actual prognosis, do some soul searching, and I’ll call you if and when I’m ready.”

Click.

Tears of righteous indignation pool in my eyes as I put my phone down. I look in the bathroom mirror and study the expression.

It’s one I’ve never seen before.

The set of my jaw is determined. The glint of my eyes is confident. The smile at the corner of my lips brims with …

Self-esteem.

Self-worth.

Self-love.

“Look what you did!” I whisper to myself. “You saw yourself! You stood up for yourself!” My reflection grins back at me, and the sight makes tears spill down my cheek. “Also, your hair looks freaking amazing.”

It really does.

The storm has mostly passed, but a chilly wind nips at me as I park the golf cart near the hot tub. Trees flank three of the hot tub’s sides, meaning I don’t feel exposed as I strip out of my sweats and get into the steaming Jacuzzi.

It’s so hot, it hurts. Goosebumps erupt over my skin, as if my body thinks I’m stepping into ice. I ease down into the water with a deep sigh. Leaning my head back on the edge, I stare up at the stars.

The night sky is brilliant. Have the stars always been this bright here? Have I really not looked at the sky once since we moved from Chicago? I mustn’t have. I’m sure I would remember the shock of a million points of light against such an inky black canvas.

The air is crisp, and I fill my lungs with slow, deep breaths. Ever since this morning, I’ve felt the relief that comes with breathing that I’ve always heard coaches and yoga instructors talk about.

Honestly, I kind of thought they were making it up. Not anymore. With each inhale and exhale, my stress releases. The need to impress Sonny’s family yesterday was as intense as any compulsion I can recall. But today, things felt different. Everyone bonding together to help the farm was part of it, but more than anything, it was Sonny.

It’s always Sonny.

His warmth.

His goodness.

His love of life.

His love for me.

His ability to see my light in a way no one else can, and now, he can appreciate the dark, too.

For the first time in my life, I have a roadmap that shows me where I want to be. I want to be like Nonna. The woman is a force of nature, and like the strongest powers on earth, she demands respect.

Yet, it’s so much more than that. Her family doesn’t fear her. They admire her. She’s made of titanium, but her grandkids and great grandkids adore her for that metal, not in spite of it. She’s managed to surround herself with people who love her while staying tough and rough around the edges. She doesn’t coddle them or have to be a gooey, squishy marshmallow to show them affection. I didn’t know it was possible to build something so beautiful with such a stiff spine, yet here she is.

I want to be her when I grow up.

And you know what?

I can.

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