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“Can you believe it?” I heard my mother shout.
“Oh, come on,” my father chuckled. “We knew it was going to happen.”
I slowly stepped into my father’s study, seeing my father and Mirai both smiling, and my mom with her hands palm to palm in front of her chest as she giggled.
Then she reached out and wrapped her arms around my father.
I smile. “What’s going on?” I asked softly, inching into the room.
But they’re only looking at each other.
Mirai glanced at me and smiled wider. “Your mom—
But my father’s voice interrupts. “I need to call Tom,” he told my mother, rounding his desk. “All the promo needs to be changed for the new movie.”
I looked between them, coming to stand in front of the sofa, so they could see me.
“Oscar-nominated actress Amelia de Haas,” my father recites as if reading a billboard.
My mouth fell open, and I smiled wide. “Oscar?”
Really? That’s amazing.
“Well, no,” my mother teased, still focused on my dad. “What if I win? Then it’s Oscar-winning actress. You better hold off.”
My father laughed again and came back around the desk, kissing her. “My wife.”
They looked at each other, their eyes lit with excitement and bliss, and I stepped around, trying to catch their eyes as I approached.
I wanted to hug my mom and congratulate her. I wanted her to know I was proud of her
“Mom…”
“Go make some calls,” she told Mirai, not hearing me. “You know what to do,”
Mirai’s eyes met mine, the always-present pity still there, and then she cast a regretful look at my parents before she left the room quietly.
“Congratulations,” I said as I approached, keeping the smile on my face.
But my mom already moved away. “Alright, let’s get to Jane’s office,” she told my dad. “I’ll need to put in a statement.”
“I’m so proud of you, honey,” he said.
And they both left, taking the noise and excitement with them. Like I was a shadow. A ghost who walked their halls but wasn’t seen or heard.
I stood there, watching them as they tread down the hall and disappeared around a corner. I clasped my hands in front of me, trying to push away the lump that lodged in my throat.
I was happy for her. I wanted her to know that she was stunning, and I loved her movies.
I wanted her to know that.
Why did she never want to share the wonderful things that happened in her life with me, because she was the first place I wanted to run to as a child to tell her when a wonderful thing had happened to me.
Before I stopped trying.
I stood there, staring off. It’s okay.
It wasn’t about me. This was her day. I had no right to demand attention.
