Page 66 of Not Another Yesterday
“Yeah, because he knows he fucked up, but he’s too chicken to face the music. Here’s a suggestion: go find him!”
A tight exhale travels through the phone. I imagine Frank is working to maintain his composure. “I will talk to my son, okay? I’ll go see him and make sure he’s alright.”
“You’ll make sure he’s alright?” my dad bellows with an incredulous laugh.
“Yes,” Frank growls. “I will make suremy kidis alright. Just like you’re making sureyour kidis alright. And I promise you this, Bobby, Ran didn’t set out to hurt Cat. He lov—”
My dad laughs maniacally. “Don’t tell me your son loves Cat. Don’t you da—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” my mom says sternly. “Frank, thank you for taking Bobby’s call. I’m sorry for this entire situation. Please, check on Ran and make sure he’s okay. This can’t be easy on him. Please give Penny a hug from me and let her know I’ll stop by tomorrow to cuddle the boys.”
And with that, my parents end their call with Frank.
My dad’s footfalls are poignant, a restless clomping through the living room. “I want to fucking kill this kid, Jen. I want to…” He trails off, his voice as tight as a bowstring.
“Robert Stevenson, you’re a good dad, but you’re also infuriatingly ignorant,” my mom says.
The pacing ceases. “How amIignorant?”
“You’re ignorant of the deep psychology behind Ronan’s actions. You’ve always been hell-bent on disliking him. You don’t bother trying to understand. You look at the facts with a surface-level understanding of the relationship our daughter had with Ronan.”
My mom, the quiet warrior, defending the boy who left me. It should sting. For some reason, it doesn’t.
“Cat is my daughter. Ronan isnotmy son. I will always choose my daughter’s well-being over the well-being, the emotions, the feelings of some boy.”
“As you should, Bobby, but don’t forget that Cat isn’t entirely innocent here, okay? It wasn’t Ronan who kissed another girl. It was our daughter who hurt Ronan.”
My dad stays silent.
“But regardless, I believe there’s probably more to Ronan’s actions than just the kiss. I think he’s working through his traumaand—”
My dad huffs. “Jeez, Jen, always the trauma. How long has it been? How long is that boy going to use that as a reason to act like an idiot?”
“Oh my god, Bobby. You know what, never mind. You don’t want to understand this. And that’s fine. You do you. I’m going to go have a chat with our beautiful daughter,” my mom says so forcefully, I’d think she was on the verge of yelling at my dad.
She makes her way into my room moments later, taking her spot on the edge of my mattress.
“Hi sweet pea,” she says with the soft tone that makes me want to revert to calling her mommy rather than just mom, like I did when I was five. I’m so lucky to have her.
I just blink at her.
“I’m going to need you to get up and get dressed,” she says with a small smile.
“Why?”
“We’re going to the grocery store,” she says so enthusiastically, I wonder if I misheard.
“I don’t want to.”
“It’s not about what you want. You need to get out of the house. Let’s go. You have ten minutes.”
***
“I expect you to go to class tomorrow, Kitty,” my mom says when we’re perusing the bread aisle at the supermarket thirty minutes later. “I know life feels topsy-turvy right now, but what we’re not going to do when we find ourselves in situations like this is neglect our own well-being, okay?” She tosses a loaf of pre-sliced multigrain bread into the shopping basket I’m using to support my body weight as I trudge after her through the store.
“Okay,” I drawl.
“And you’ll also come back to the office tomorrow morning. I have two patients back-to-back and really need you to be available.”
