Page 97 of Holding On

"YOU can, but I'm not." Becca slams her cloth napkin down on the table and shoves her chair back. "I need some air." She gets up and storms out of the restaurant.

Mike scoots his chair back. "I'll get her."

"No. Let me," I say, already up on my crutches.

"You sure?" he asks.

"Yeah. I'll be right back." I make my way to the entrance of the hotel and see Becca outside, pacing back and forth.

"Hey." I go out the revolving doors and stand in front of her, forcing her to stop. "You want to talk about it?"

She looks at me. "How dare she ask us to be in her wedding after abandoning us! I was thirteen, Ethan. Thirteen! You know how devastated I was to lose my mom at thirteen? And she doesn't even care!"

Becca's yelling and the valet is looking at us, annoyed.

"Come on." I nudge Becca's arm. "Let's go over there." I point to a bench that's a ways down from the entrance. Once we're there and seated, I say, "You can tell her no."

"I could, but I'd feel bad doing that, which makes absolutely no sense. I shouldn't feel bad. I didn't do anything wrong. She's the one who left."

"Maybe she's doing this to reach out to you. Maybe she wants a relationship with you again."

Becca shrugs. "Doesn't matter. I don't want one with her. When I was younger I did, but now? I don't care if I never see her again."

"You really mean that?"

"After what she did, why would I want a relationship with her? When she left, she didn't just hurt Mike and me. She destroyed our dad. He was never the same. He tried to move on, but he never could. Even years later, he wanted her back but she wouldn't even talk to him. And I hate her for that. I hate what she did to him. To all of us."

"Then tell her no. And don't feel bad about it, or guilty. If that's your decision, then don't doubt it. If you feel this is the right thing to do, then do it, and don't back down."

"Easier said than done."

"I know. Believe me, I have a hard time standing up to my parents, but sometimes it's what you have to do."

And yet I don't do it nearly enough. I let my parents control me more than I should. I guess because it's easier than fighting with them.

"I know this sounds stupid but part of me feels like I should tell her yes."

"Why? Because she's your mom?"

"Yeah. And because..." She swipes her finger under her eye.

"Because why?"

She looks down. "Because I want her to love me."

"Becca." I put my arm around her. "Your mom loves you. She just has a hard time showing it. But that shouldn't impact your decision. You need to do what's best for you, not your mom. You should feel good about this decision, not do it out of obligation."

She pauses, then says, "I don't want to do it."

"Then don't. Tell her you don't feel right about it. Or don't even give her an explanation. Just tell her no."

She takes a breath, then stands up. "Okay. I'm telling her no. If Mike wants to be in the wedding he can, but I'm not doing it. I'm not even going to the wedding. I can't watch my mom marry some other guy knowing how much my dad loved her, even after she left."

Grabbing my crutches, I stand up. "Let's go back inside. You can tell her, and after that, if things get awkward, we'll leave."

"We can't leave. I came with Mike."

"And I came in a cab. It's still here." I point to it in the parking lot. "I paid the guy to wait in case you told me to get lost. If you decide to leave, we'll take the cab back to my place."

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