Page 5 of Embers in Our Past

“Mom,I promise I got everything. I need to focus on the road. I’m meeting Marissa for lunch. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay. Maybe you’ll come over for dinner?”

I keep myself from sighing loudly, so my mom won’t hear me over the speaker.

My mom needs to take the overbearing down a notch. I just want to stay in and read a book tonight. I’m feeling a bit suffocated. I haven’t lived on the West Coast since I graduated from high school, and she hasn’t given me a moment of silence since I got back.

“I think after lunch, I’m just going back to my apartment and settling in for the night. This rain is supposed to get worse later. I’ll try to swing by in the next few days. Love you.”

“Okay. Love you?—”

I take the opportunity to hang up really quick before she tries to get me to commit to anything because that’s my mother’s specialty. She knows I feel guilty half the time, and she’ll get me to agree to come over when I literally just said I’m not in the mood, so it’s best I stop this conversation before it gets out of hand.

I’m finally having lunch with my high school best friend, Marissa, after having to reschedule too many times. She’s an up-and-coming lawyer in Los Angeles, and she has been swamped with a case downtown. Luckily, she hasn’t bailed on our little date yet today, so I’m hoping I don’t get stood up once I get to the restaurant.

When it comes to understanding the law, I have little knowledge of Marissa’s job. Even though it’s the weekend, I am well aware her work follows her home. As a web developer, I helped her build the website for her law office.

I am lucky to work in that field and work primarily from home. I was fortunate to launch my own company shortly after I graduated from college and have slowly built my client list from there. The main advantage of working from home and owning my own company is the flexibility. Relocating from Boston to California did not impact my work life in any way.

I cannot say the same for my personal life. Since moving back, living near my parents, particularly my mother Collette, has resulted in a major intrusion into my personal space. If I’m not the one visiting them, my mother is at my apartment. I have so much love for my parents, but I value my alone time as well. And for the amount of time I’ve lived thousands of miles away from them, I’ve grown used to my space and surroundings undisturbed.

Whenever there is a knock on my door, I can bet money it’s one of them. My brother, Frankie, used to call me complaining, stating our mother was constantly at his place. I used to laugh through the phone, telling him how lucky I was because I was thousands of miles away. Now that the tables have turned, he’s returning the favor when we have our weekly calls.

Frankie and I have always had a close relationship despite being half-siblings. My mother married young when she found out she was pregnant right out of high school. My mom isn’t shy about how hard it was to sustain a life with Frankie’s father and how they were always struggling to make ends meet. His father left before Frankie could even form a memory of the man.

My mom met Rick, my father, when Frankie was in preschool, and they said it was love at first sight. She said my father swooped her off her feet. But my dad always tells me he had to fight for her love because my mom was scared of the same problems happening again when it came to financial stressors impacting the family.

My dad was the opposite of Frankie’s though. He hit it big in the late 1980s with the start of a computer software company that took off. My dad took on the role of father for Frankie, and once I came into the picture after my parents got married, we simply became a happy, blended family. But the wounds from my mother’s past still impact the way she reacts to me as I grow into an adult. It’s hard for her to let go of the traumas from her past.

Frankie is now living in New York City with his wife after moving there about three years ago. I always thought he was exaggerating about the way my mother smothered him, but I called him a few months back to apologize to him, which earned me about an hour of laughter from him on the other end. I had sort of forgotten how obsessive my mother could be when living in the same city as her.

I’m surprised he didn’t hang up on me when I called. For nearly six months after I left Clay, my brother was barely on speaking terms with me. I think if he had a choice, he would have chosen Clay in the divorce. I swear my brother has a bromance with my ex-husband—that’s how much he loves him. I sort of get it… Clay is that amazing, and if I’m being honest with myself, I think about him constantly, even if my plan was to move thousands of miles away to start fresh.

Leaving Clay was the hardest thing I ever did. To this day, I’m still on the fence if it was the right thing to do. Each day, I wake up and wonder what I would be doing in that version of my life if I were still Abby Nichols.

I’ll be the first to admit I started to lean too heavily on my mother while Clay and I were having trouble conceiving during those last couple of months. The thing people don’t talk about when you’re struggling to conceive is the fracture that can occur in a marriage. I know we hear about the difficulties some couples suffer through, but it’s not always something people divulge.

The fertility treatments garnered so much pain that only mounted each month. At first, I thought we wouldn’t suffer this divide when we chose IVF. I felt confident we could overcome anything. But then, as each test came back negative, I felt impatient. Then, as the months passed, I felt this immense sense of blame toward myself.

I would then get bitter, not sure if it was at myself or Clay. I'd look at him living so carefree and happy when all I felt was anxiety and misery. This bitterness would be laced in my movements. I was no longer the happy and lighthearted version of myself I knew people loved. Life became unfulfilling.

When we finally got a diagnosis of the fertility issues, I broke. That last epic phone call to my mother, I sobbed and broke down to the point that when I finally took a breath and she proposed I return to California, I couldn’t resist the idea of being home.

Something about being in the sunshine and away from the pain I felt surrounded by appealed to me. Forgotten was the life I had when I left before college. The life where my mother was always watching what I did, and I couldn’t get out of here fast enough. All I saw was a change, and I came running back. I’ll admit, I wanted myself back, and I’d do anything to free the old Abby from the ashes of the sorrows I was living back in.

When I first left Boston, the newness of returning to the West Coast felt exciting. I thought I had made the best choice. It was almost electric being here. The sun beating on me, it felt like I was shedding a new skin.

Although I loved Massachusetts with Clay, after dealing with all our fertility issues, being in that house felt like shackles were holding me down. The worst part, in some way, I felt like being around Clay was a reminder of the life I couldn’t have.

However, now that time has passed and the layers of this life I’ve built here have dissipated, I’m now left with longing. I look for Clay around every corner. It’s weird because I have never lived with him on this side of the country. But I literally reach for him in bed when I’m dreaming. I find myself wondering if he’ll call when I’m working late at night. Whenever I’m left too long with my thoughts, my mind drifts to him. It’s like I’m programmed, no matter where I am in this world, to be with him. That’s when I realized that he is a part of me, no matter what life I build.

I made a huge decision to return to California, and I acknowledge it was a rash one at the time. I may have told Clay I had thought my decision through when I was leaving, but I know I was lying for his benefit. I wanted him to move on, but I was only wanting him to find his own happiness. Of course, I knew I was leaving my heart behind for his sake. My decision was made out of desperation to escape the memories due to failed attempts to conceive. But it was also out of desperation to escape the hole our failure was causing me inside. I let the pain lead my decision that day, and now I’m feeling a little lost, just on a different coast.

Leaving has had many good moments for me personally, though. I can’t ignore the growth I’ve had since I left Boston. I moved out on my own after a few months of living with my parents. The independence gave me the opportunity to focus on myself and grow as an individual. In truth, it gave me the ability to return to the person I was before the struggles with fertility began. Little by little, I’m starting to get back into my love of art, although that is still few and far between.

Although my mother was eager to have me back, my father seemed indifferent. The divorce shocked him when I first mentioned it because he knew how much Clay always meant to me. And since returning, I’ve noticed his long glances my way whenever my mother inquires if I’ve started dating anyone.

I think if he were to give his opinion, he’d say he always liked Clay overall. My dad always says my happiness is his priority. No matter what, he wanted to lift the pain. Unfortunately, the pain I was feeling and still feel is simply not that easy to fix. But he’s been by my side to give his big dad hugs and endless smiles when I’ve needed them since returning home.

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