Page 22 of Losing Sleep
I flinched a little, realizing Grey had already shared much of his story the night before. If I’d been a better conversationalist, Iwould have remembered. My mom, Lyle, Emily. They all would have remembered.
“I can start, if that would make you more comfortable.” The words came out in a rush. I attempted nonchalance, ignoring the worry clawing at my throat. This was probably a terrible idea, but I had to try something. He’d shown me a glimpse into his life last night. It was my turn to do the same. Not to mention if we were talking, I wouldn’t open my work messaging app to pass the time. I doubted Drew’s ability to handle things while I was away, but knew if I cracked that door open, there was no closing it again on this trip.
I took a deep breath before jumping in, figuring there was no time like the present to give Grey a quick peek into my life.
“My mom raised me on her own after my dad walked out when I was three. They’d married straight out of high school after going a bit too far on a date. Neither was ready for parenthood, but my mom refused to consider any alternative besides raising me when she found out she was pregnant. It was us against the world until my sophomore year of high school.” My fingers clenched into fists in my lap as I thought about those years, worrying about my mom and if we’d have enough money to get us through the week. Trying to roll with her spontaneity but worrying it would come at the cost of dinner that night. I tried not to think about how it felt to go to bed hungry, knowing my mom was doing her best, and yet it still hadn’t been enough. I forced myself to relax and unclench my fists. That was the past. My life was safe and settled now. “Mom decided to give online dating a try, and after a slew of terrible dates, she met Dave and promptly fell in love. They married my senior year of high school and were surprised by fraternal twin girls about a year later.”
Silence followed my declarations, the only sounds the chorus of a Queen song as Grey processed my words.
“Did I say too much? Sorry, my life’s a lot.” I stammered, attempting to backtrack and recall the words. Maybe I’d shared too much. There was a difference between sharing secrets in the dark of night and blasting them out in the middle of the day.
“No, I’m just…processing. It’s a lot to unpack.” Grey rushed to reassure me, glancing between me and the road a few times. It was as if he wanted to watch my face, but also recognized the need for safety while driving. I was grateful he couldn’t fully read the emotions I was sure were written across my face.
“How do you feel about all of that?” He gestured vaguely, attempting to encapsulate all my words.
A small smile teased my lips as I chose to focus on the positive, ignoring the moments of stress and ‘not enough’ that had defined my childhood.
“I’m happy for Mom. Dave makes enough money that she gets to stay home and be the cool mom she never had the time to be when I was growing up. I’m grateful she found her happy ending. It’s just…” I hesitated, knowing I could leave it there and Grey would be none the wiser. For all anyone knew, the emotional trauma of my childhood was healed, and I had no secret hard feelings at my mom’s second chance at a happy, perfect family.
If I was anywhere else, not trapped in a car for several hours unable to escape, I wouldn’t hesitate to end the conversation and run away. Instead, Dot’s words encouraging me to be brave filled my mind.
I took a deep breath, deciding to give Grey the vulnerability and honesty he deserved after opening up to me last night.
“It’s hard not to worry about it falling apart…or about how I fit into it.”
The truth tasted bitter on my tongue. These were thoughts I usually kept to myself, safely bottled up where no one else could or would learn about just how much of a mess I trulywas. I hadn’t even expressed these thoughts and fears to Lyle. Apparently, hours trapped in the car with Grey had broken my filter. Just more evidence I was no good at socializing. I went straight from small talk to the hard things, with little warning.
“I imagine that would be difficult.” Grey’s voice was soft, like he was trying not to spook a deer. I stared straight ahead, not wanting to see concern, or worse, pity written on his face. These conversations were much easier in the dark of night, where reactions could be hidden.
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful she found Dave, and I love the girls. They feel more like nieces or little cousins than sisters. I mean, it’s hard to connect on a sisterly level when you’re in your third year of college and they’re learning to walk. But we have our fun. They come out to visit about once a year, and I go out to California to see them over the holidays. Dave usually foots the bill for me to take them to Disneyland, so there are worse family situations.” I shrugged, rattling off the many perks of being a big sister after having spent most of my life as an only child. If I focused on the positive, brushed away the hard, maybe this conversation could be salvaged and Grey would have no idea how messed up I truly was.
“Tell me about them,” Grey said, giving me full permission to return to safer topics.
“They’re seven, almost eight. Lily is the oldest, but Poppy will be the first to inform you it was only by two minutes,” I said with a smile. Their slight age difference was a major sore spot for Poppy.
“Wait.” Grey held up a hand to stop me, his forehead scrunched. “Their names are Lily and Poppy? As in, both of your sisters are named after plants?”
I laughed. “Mom went through a gardening phase right after she married Dave. Mom’s always starting new hobbies and swearing this will be the one that lasts. Currently, she’s intosourdough and talks about opening a bakery. Next month it’ll probably be crocheting book covers and opening an online shop.” My lips tipped into a smile, thinking about Mom’s many hobbies over the years. “The hobbies never stick, which is why we tried to convince her to name them something a little less floral. But Mom wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Makes sense. I don’t know that I’d name my children after plants, but you do you.” Grey’s smile widened, his teeth a flash of white against his beard.
“At least the names are cute and easy to spell. For a minute she was talking about naming the girls Amaryllis and Chrysanthemum.” I gave a mock shudder. “It was a rough week before we convinced her Lily and Poppy were better. She said they were going to be her garden babies. I’m still not sure what that means.”
Humor laced my voice as I thought back to those conversations before the girls had been born. Dave and I had tried repeatedly to brainstorm ways to get her to choose new names. I couldn’t count the number of texts I’d sent Mom my first year of college with baby name suggestions. No matter what I’d come up with, Mom had been set on something floral.
“If your sisters were named after a hobby, where did your name come from?”
“Believe it or not, it came from a hobby too,” I said, a hint of pride in my voice. I loved my name and the story behind it. It felt like my own special piece of my mom, just for me to hold onto. “Mom went through an Audrey Hepburn phase when she was pregnant with me. We used to watch a different Audrey Hepburn movie on my birthday every year to celebrate where my name came from.”
“Sounds like I should have been asking your mom for hobby suggestions at the beginning of this trip.” Grey threw me a wink,taking out any potential sting that could have come from his words.
He had no way of knowing that Mom’s ever-changing hobbies were the ultimate sign of her inability to settle down. Now that she was married to Dave, it wasn’t an issue. But my childhood had been a different story, each hobby leading to a different dream job with the associated costs and potential moves. After all, you can’t be a surfer if you don’t live near the ocean.
I’d always taken pride in my hobbies and how they symbolized a settled life of sorts. After all, I picked hobbies and stuck to them. Now I was realizing Lyle had stolen that from me, and it was long past time I stopped giving him that power. I needed to rediscover what it meant to be Audrey Byrd, hobbies and all.
“I’m just grateful she was into Audrey Hepburn when I was born. Shortly after I was born, she got really into rock collecting.” I playfully shuddered, letting the humor chase any heaviness that could accompany the conversation.
“Sounds like a missed opportunity! You could have been named Amethyst,” Grey said, clear enjoyment in his tone as he considered the possibilities. I decided to play along.
