Page 46 of It's Complicated

“It’s my dad,” I said. “My parents are…not great. It’s complicated with them.”

“Preaching to the choir,” Asa said sympathetically. “You’ve heard me rant about mine for how many years now?”

“I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have a complicated relationship with their parents,” Zander said, his hands working as he tied his long hair back. “Even when you only have one,” he added with a wry grin, tucking a few wayward strands of hair into the messy bun he wore when he was at work.

I didn’t know much about Zander’s home life, just that he’d been raised by his mother after his father abandoned them when he was a baby. He didn’t talk about her much, but I’d gathered that they didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.

“Mood.” Asa turned his attention back to me. “Is your mom or dad the problem?”

“Both.”

He smiled ruefully. “I know that feeling.”

“Do your parents summon you to meetings with them so they can tell you how much of a disappointment you are and criticize everything you’ve ever chosen to do with your life?” I asked Asa.

“Oh yeah.” He let out a humorless laugh. “At least once a month.”

“Really? I thought it was bad that mine do this a few times a year. Once a month? How do you deal with that?”

“Lots of disassociating and pretending to listen while they drone on about the same shit.” He shrugged. “I swear they just like hearing themselves talk at this point.”

“I wish I could pull that off. I can’t zone out without my resting bitch face coming out to play. That face doesn’t go over well when I’m getting chewed out.”

“I used to do math in my head when my mom would lay into me,” Zander said.

“Math?” I asked.

He nodded. “Thinking about song lyrics or movie quotes made me seem too relaxed and happy, like I wasn’t taking things seriously. Thinking about random stuff made me look like I wasn’t listening or was being insolent. Doing mental math wasthe perfect balance between looking engaged and solemn. Cut the lecture times down by at least half.”

“I wish I’d thought of that. Rolling my eyes, sighing heavily, and letting the good ole RBF out certainly didn’t do me any favors growing up.” I peeled off my coveralls and rolled them into a ball. “My dad wants to meet me in the city next weekend. He said he has something to tell me, but that’s code for he’s going to lay into me for not living up to my potential.”

“My parents throw that one at me too,” Asa said.

“Do you also get that you’ve got no direction, no drive, and are wasting all the time, energy, and resources your parents put into you?” I asked.

Asa nodded. “Yup. What about saying you were a mistake and they regret having you?”

I winced. My parents had said some awful things to me in the past, but they’d never said they wished I hadn’t been born. “They said that to you?”

“Constantly. And it’s super fun having divorced parents because I get to hear it from both sides.”

“What the fuck kind of parent says that to their kid?” I spluttered.

I knew Asa hadn’t had it easy growing up, but this was the first time he’d given specifics about justhowcrappy his parents were.

“Shitty ones.” Asa shrugged like it was no big deal. “You get used to it.”

The casual way Asa dismissed that kind of verbal abuse made me wonder what else they’d said or done to him.

“It’s like they have the same script,” Asa continued, swinging his gaze to Zander questioningly. “Did you have to deal with that crap too?”

“Not that bad, but close,” he confirmed.

“Your mom isn’t going to be there?” Asa asked me. “At this meeting?”

I shook my head. “She’ll summon me for a talk of her own at some point. The awesomeness of divorce. I get double the lectures and none of the fun. But whatever. It’s not like I haven’t sat through dozens of these before. A few hours of being talked to like I’m five, and I’ll be free of him until the next time he remembers I exist.” I closed my locker with a loudclang.

“I gotta head out there.” Zander motioned to the wall separating the changing area from the car bays. “Are you going to be okay? It’s weird seeing you mopey.”

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