Page 66 of Embers in Our Souls
I try to tamper my annoyance. The relationship once again on thin ice. We had started to mend our once rocky relationship, something that brought so much happiness to my brother before his passing. Bryce worked so hard to see us build things back to something resembling what it once was. And I would say it was moving in the right direction. That is until Bryce died.
That’s when things got really ugly. Actually, it was worse than I could have foreseen. When it was discovered that Noah would be under my care, full custody having been granted to me by the judge, my parents were none too pleased. In the will, my brother had put me down as Noah’s guardian. My parents felt I wasn’t equipped to be a mother, not just due to my lack of knowledge in the parenting department, but because of my health issues as well.
They wanted to fault me for my chronic condition and put that front and center. The way they belittled me, their own childat that, felt cruel and unnecessary. I have never felt less loved by the two people who were only supposed to support me. In that moment, our own cracks felt like the only things I saw between us.
It was revealed then that my brother saw me in a way I never imagined. Bryce had stated in his will—through a letter nonetheless—that I possessed a strength he always admired. He felt if there was ever a need for someone to care for his son, it should be me. When I was shown difficulty in my life, I stood up to the hardship and found the determination to persevere. He also knew that I would raise Noah in a way that would mirror the life he imagined for him.
I remember the way my shoulders shook, the emotion taking over my body with the words my brother left behind in his letter. I never knew he felt this way about me. Knowing he held me at such a high standard made me feel seen, even if he wasn’t here to witness the gratitude I had for his words.
My grandfather even started to pick sides, stating he would back me up with whatever support I needed if it came to it with my parents, knowing I would put up a fight when it came to Noah. I was determined to honor Bryce’s wishes. He understood that I had no means to fight them alone if necessary. Luckily, my parents were all talk, although their words were cutting. Apparently, my grandfather did intervene with a phone call to his daughter, explaining the irreparable damage this would cause.
My mother listened, however, the damage it caused between my parents and me was done. Our relationship was further torn when my parents learned of my marriage to Tyler during the guardianship process for Noah. Everything came to the surface. A part of me was relieved I no longer had to keep it buried, but I saw the disappointment across their faces when they learned the truth.
I can’t change the past, and I find myself counting to ten to calm my nerves when I interact with my mother. I remind myself, time and time again, that Noah has already lost his father, I can never deprive him of his only living grandparents. In the same token, I can’t simply ignore what they did to me while I was trying to respect Bryce’s wishes for his son.
The way I feel like I’m being judged by my parents each time I visit them, or the little glances thrown my way as I parent Noah feel like a microscope cast over this little boy and me. Maybe they didn’t mean anything by their reaction, but for me, it felt like betrayal.
Obviously, Bryce chose me for a reason I can’t explain, and Noah belongs with me. Why can’t they see that? So now, when I speak to either of my parents, there’s a blanket of pain in each word spoken; theirs said with bitterness, and mine with resentment.
“How’s Noah?” My mother asks as I move through the building, rushing to get to my car.
“Good, he’s at tee-ball practice. I might lose you, I’m about to get in the elevator.” I get in as the doors close.
“Shouldn’t you be there?” I don’t miss her judgement and I can imagine the flat line of her mouth as she says it. I roll my eyes and let out a breath, keeping myself from saying something rude. I hold back from reminding her of all the times she missed my events because she was at work operating on patients. The comment would be futile; my mother is blind to her own misgivings.
“I had to work. One of his friend’s parents took him,” I tell her. This would be a great time for the elevator to cut this conversation.
No such luck. Apparently, Diana Ranton is blessed with an uninterrupted call today.
“It’s late over there. Why are you still working?” This time I don’t hold back the audible exhale I give.
“Was there a reason for your call? Is Dad okay?” Usually we keep these conversations centered around Noah, but I honestly can’t stand the judgement. I’m too old for this shit.
“Dad’s fine. I’m calling because I’m looking at the calendar and we’re headed out there in the coming weeks, so you two don’t need to plan a visit out here this summer.”
Every year, despite the heat in Vegas, we head out their way to see my parents. Noah loves the big buildings on the Vegas strip, and I always fit in a quick trip to California as well.
“Oh yeah? Why the change?” This isn’t like them.
“Your dad surprised me with a cruise to celebrate our anniversary,” she squeals. “We’ll be coming your way and stay a week instead of you coming this direction. Then we’ll be headed to Florida for our week-long getaway.” I hate how my mom makes the decision and doesn’t ask me first. What if we’re busy? She doesn’t even specify with any dates, so I have to pull the information out of her and it’s the most frustrating thing.
“Okay. Well, I’ll check the calendar and let you know.” I unlock my car and throw my purse in. “Send me the details as soon as possible.”
“Indiana, I’d appreciate if you made time for us,” my mother huffs.
“Mom, I didn’t say I wouldn’t. I’m just asking that you send me the information. I just want to confirm we don’t have anything planned. You didn’t ask me before booking anything.”
Now I’m even more irritated.
“Fine. It would be nice if our only daughter would sound even a little excited about seeing us.” This is typical of her. She twists things so that I’m the bad guy. I’m not going to fall for this trap she sets each time.
“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
I hang up quickly, blood boiling from the interaction and already on the verge of tears after the afternoon I’ve had. She’s set me off now, pulling emotions out of me I wasn’t expecting.
My drive to the field is not a quick one due to traffic, so I arrive a little later than I’d like. Luckily, Noah is none the wiser, as he’s playing with his friends, running around the grassy area, throwing the ball with the biggest smile on his face.
