Page 36 of Bloom and Burn
Now, how would she know that? She didn’t even want to listen to him.
“That’s not true—”
“It is! He harassed me on the phone, sweetie. And he’s using you to get to me now.” She scoffs, shifting her weight. “Just because he has money, he thinks he can buy anyone.”
My mom loves to exaggerate when it suits her. Or when she wants to guilt-trip you. But after the amazing time I had with Jack, I really don’t feel like letting it slide. Still, picking a fight won’t be the smartest thing, so, taking a deep breath, I calm myself down.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean for it to come across that way. He’s just really desperate because the Blooming Orchid is the only thing that stands between him and building the medical facility for paralysis.”
“We already talked about this, Ryan,” she says and sashays into the lounge. I follow her. “Estacada doesn’t need more factories or corrupt billionaires. Besides, our flower business has always been on Fourth Ave. It will not move.”
“There are way better locations around town. If we moved to one of them, our sales will go up. The data supports it.”
She rolls her eyes, dismissing my valid point just like that. “We aren’t turning our backs on our history and traditions just so we can get an extra ten dollars a week.”
The finality in her statement tugs at my annoyance. First, it’s not just ten dollars, and second, what traditions? Yes, we’ve been around for a while, but it’s not like our ‘traditions’ are tied to the location. Whether we are here or on the other side of the US, the Blooming Orchid will be the Blooming Orchid.
“Okay. Fine. What if I just want to move? Helping Jack and Emily is secondary. I want to do this for me and for the success of the Orchid,” I challenge, crossing my arms to mirror her aggressive pose.
I chance a glance at dad then, finding him scowling at me the same way mom is. There is no surprise there—he’s on her side as usual, even if I am right.
The lines on both their foreheads deepen as if they’d had enough of arguing with me. But I haven’t. I’m ready for round two.
“Ryan, is this Jack Keller bullying you?” dad says carefully, wrapping an arm around mom’s waist.
What? Jesus Christ. “No! He isn’t! Why would you say that?”
Mom’s judgmental gaze scrutinizes me from top to bottom. “Oh, Ryan. Why can’t you see this for what it is?He’s a bully who’s using you to get the building. And he’s succeeding if he’s already turned you against us, your own parents.”
Oh my god. She’s such a drama queen. I squeeze my hands into fists to my side. It’s partially my fault, because I never stood up for myself. I always did what she wanted, I didn’t argue. I don’t think she does it on purpose per se, but she knows exactly how to work both me and dad so she can get what she wants.
“This is not true. You are wrong. All Jack did was ask me if I would sell.Iwas the one who decided I wanted to. And honestly, I really don’t see why it’s such a big problem.”
Did the Kellers give me the push I needed in order to finally take my life into my own hands? Yes, and I am grateful to them for it. But I didn’t think mom would take so badly to my wish for independence.
“It is, because some boy you used to like shows up, gives you a bit of attention, and you start acting like a child. There were no talks about moving before. He’s manipulating you and I don’t know how you can’t see that!”
I want to pull out my own hair. What a shitshow. She single-handedly ruined my day and good mood. Ugh. Can’t she trust me? I’m not asking for that much. Will it kill her to acknowledge that maybe I have a point and there are alternatives to her way?
“He likes me. And he also wants to help his sister and all those people who are like her! I don’t know how you can’t see that.” I return her scowl, huffing air out of my nose. “Oh yeah. It’s because you think you know best and never listen to anyone else. Even when you are wrong.”
That strikes a cord if her outraged expression is anything to go by. I didn’t mean to pour fuel into the fire, butshe really pushed me. Not that I’m going to stick around for the aftermath. Oh no. Nope. I’m outta here.
While she’s still in shock, I storm out and run up the stairs, locking myself in my room.
“Ryan! We aren’t done!”
Yes, we fucking are. I love my parents, but man, can they be infuriating. Mom is a control freak and dad is fucking spineless. I knew getting them on board wouldn’t be easy, but mom isn’t even giving me a chance. Not to mention the way they ambushed me tonight. What am I, four?
I plop on my bed and growl into the pillow. Maybe I should’ve stood up to them years ago instead of drowning myself in books. But it’s not like I didn’t try either—she just shut my idea about a garden center down like it wasn’t even worth discussing. I didn’t bring it up much after that, but it didn’t make me give up though.
I roll over to my side and stare at the hundreds of little plastic stars on my ceiling. Deep breaths, Ryan. It’s fine. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to rebel against the system. It’s all part of the process.
It sucks, big time, but there’s little I can do. If I want to have a life of my own, this is a necessary evil. I know she comes from a good place, that she means the best, but her overbearing nature can be a lot at times. It suffocates me until it’s simply easier to go along and do what she wants, but I’m done doing that. Just like how Jack has changed, so have I, and it’s time to show her that.
Friday comes around quickly. I have fun at work with Emily, then chill with Jack afterwards, so I am ready to tackle my parents’ disapproving stares when I go home. We don’treally talk since our argument, but since I’m out until late, I won’t have to suffer through mom’s passive-aggressive silence.
I’d call her out on it, but it’s usually better to wait it out until she calms down. The festival is this weekend, so I guess I’ll confront her afterwards.
