"Um, cause I’m having a super shitty day, and I want to talk to a friend about it."I think about what she said."And my friend is going through shit too, and I want to be there for her.Two things can be true at the same time.We can work on them together.It’s what friends do."
"You’re not mad at me?I’m a terrible person for even thinking … for making this about me and my experience.Don’t you want to leave now?"
There’s a lot to unpack in that statement, and I’m in no place to do it.
My brain hurts; it’s so full of conflicting thoughts and emotions right now.I gingerly sit back down on the couch.It really is comfortable."Can we have a quick recap, just so I’m not confused as to what’s going on here?"I think I understand, but there’s a piece missing that’s making it not make sense for me.
Rachel remains by the door, but she allows it to close gently.I take this as a yes."I’m upset that my parents withheld the fact that I’m dyslexic, allowing me to struggle my entire life.They let me think that I was stupid and worthless because I couldn’t keep up academically with my brothers.Knowing them, they thought they were doing what was best for me, but they may have done more harm than good.That’s where I’m at, agreed?"
Rachel nods.
I continue, "And while you see that perspective, this whole situation, especially me talking about my brain, is triggering for you because your sister died of brain cancer and, from what you’ve told me, your parents are not in the picture.So while you can understand that I’m mad at my parents, it’s still infinitely better than any interactions you have with your parents.Am I correct?"
Another nod.She’s staring at the floor as if it holds all the secrets of the world.
"And you understand that your reaction to me right now is a little skewed because you’ve just lost your sister, and you want to be supportive, but you still have your feelings, and you’re trying to work through them."I don’t wait for a response before I continue."So, if that’s what’s going on, why do you want me to leave?That’s what I don’t understand."
Finally, she looks up at me, tears shimmering in her eyes."I don’twantyou to leave.I expect you to leave."
These words are like a knife to my heart.She expects me to walk out on her.
In a voice so faint I can barely hear it, she whispers, "Everyone leaves me."
I’m off the couch and crossing the small room before I can stop myself.I pull her into me, pressing her tightly to my chest.My arms engulf her, and I kiss her forehead."I’m not going anywhere."
"That’s what they all say."
I hold her tight, feeling her body slump into mine.My chin is on the top of her head.She seems so small.I wish I could use my body to protect her from all the hurt she’s endured in her past."I mean, physically, I do have to leave at some point.I still have a job to do, and unfortunately, I can’t do it remotely."
I feel her body shaking against mine.
"Are you laughing or crying?"
Rachel sniffles."A little of both."
I pull back slightly so I can look at her.Her eyes are red and puffy, and her face is slick with tears."We can fight, not that that even was a fight.You had feelings, which you’re entitled to.You also showed a tremendous amount of self-awareness in your feelings, which I think is interesting.People usually have no idea when they’re being self-centered.Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.I’m one of those people."
"I’ve always had to be more aware.When I was growing up, I thought it was something I was saying or doing that was making Mom leave.Or that I was unlikeable—unlovable—and that’s why she always chose her boyfriends over us.If I just did better, or was better, or was more quiet, or took up less space, then she’d love me too.I mean, if my own mother doesn’t love me enough to stay, then why would anyone else?"
I can see why she was upset with me and my reaction toward my parents.To her, it’s like complaining that your wagyu steak dinner is slightly overcooked when the person next to you is eating SpaghettiOs.
Number ten on her list is to forgive her mother.When I first read that, I couldn’t imagine ever being so mad at my mother that I would not be able to forgive her.Today, I understand a bit more.
"Do you ever think you will be able to forgive your mom?"I ask.
Rachel shakes her head."Maybe, at one point, I could have forgiven her for leaving us when we were little.She was young herself, and she didn’t know what she wanted from life.People make mistakes.But I can’t forgive her for not being there for Richie.She only came to see her one time after she got sick.Toward the very end, when Richie couldn’t see anymore and could barely speak.She was only semi-conscious.That’s when Mom breezed in.But then, at the services, there she was, playing the role of the distraught mother."
I wouldn’t be able to forgive that either."Do you think Richie wrote the list before your mom came to see her?"
Rachel pulls out of my arms.She cocks her head, considering."She would have had to.There’s no way she was still writing by the time Mom came."
"So Richie thought she was going to die without seeing your mom, and yet she still wanted you to forgive her.I wonder why."
Rachel starts walking aimlessly around her apartment.She finally ends up in the kitchen, where she pours herself a glass of water."You want anything to drink?"
"Water’d be great.I still feel dehydrated from Vegas and the flight."
Rachel sets the water pitcher down and looks at me."Was that really only yesterday?"
