Page 38 of Fluke
“Tell me about your parents,” Honey says.
“You don’t have all day.”
“Give me the short version.”
I sigh. “Well, they’re both surgeons. They’re brilliant and talented and save lives every day.”
“I didn’t ask you to tell me about who they are to everyone else. I asked who they areas your parents.”
Wow.
Honey holds my gaze, a tenderness embedded in her round face that tugs at my heart. I’ve never thought about my parents, or anyone, like that. It reframes so many things.
“As my parents, they were …” I try to find kind words. They are my parents, after all. But each adjective that I come across that fits that narrative doesn’t truly capture the people I grew up with. “Missing, a lot. Tepid. Generous with everything but their affection.”
She puts her spoon in the bowl and sets it on the tray.
“Please don’t pity me,” I say, smiling. “I have a very privileged life, and I’m doing just fine. You can’t have it all, you know?”
She nods. “I’d love for you to meet my granddaughter, Brooke, some day. I think you have a lot in common.”
“Really?”
“Sadly. My daughter has many of the qualities you just described, and my granddaughter can probably relate to you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that she’s experienced what I have.”
“Sweetheart, we all experience something. How we come out of the experience makes all the difference.”
Her words echo inside my brain, committing them to memory.
I’ve often wondered what my parents went through growing up to make them the way they are. I didn’t know any of my grandparents since I wasn’t born until my mom and dad were in their forties. Their parents had passed away.What happened to my mother and father to make them so cold?
I pick at a piece of lint on my yoga pants and reflect on my experiences. The biggest effect they had on me is evident in my decision-making processes.
“You’re right,” I say. “The way I was raised had a huge impact on my relationships now.”
“In what way?”
“Well …” I force a swallow as my anxiety begins to shuffle its way into my psyche. “I’m confident and outspoken, but secretly, I’m always afraid.”
Honey picks up the remote and turns the television off.
“I’m kind of terrified to have a serious relationship with anyone,” I say, opening to Honey in a way I’ve never opened to anyone before. “It always feels likeI’mthe deal breaker.”
She shakes her head but says nothing. Emboldened by her encouragement—and by the way she truly wants to listen—I let the words flow.
“I’ve never admitted this out loud, but there’s always something in the back of my brain that worries that I’m going to disappoint someone, and that’s probably my biggest fear in the world. Of having to look into someone’s soul and see their disappointment in me as a human being.”
My chest tightens as Honey pulls the lever on the side of her chair and sits up.
“You have every damn right to disappoint people, Pippa.”
Huh? My heart beats quicker.
She steels her gaze to mine. “Disappointing people has such a negative connotation to it. But when you really think about it, sweetheart, disappointing someone probably means you stood up for yourself.”
Wow. My brain tries to understand—to rationalize—what she’s saying.
