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“My mother loves hard, but she can be a very overbearing woman. When I turned twenty six in May, I said I wouldn’t hold myself to her standards anymore. Then, my father died, and all of that went out the window.”
Omega raised a brow as he looked at me. “How so?”
“I have always been the type to do anything to make my mother happy. I mean, anything. If she’s having a bad day, I feel the need to do something to make it better, whether it is to clean the house, get good grades, tell her jokes, anything. Sometimes, I do too much though.”
Omega turns to look at me after he snaps the top branch to the tree into place. “Like telling her you have a chocolate professor that’s ready to marry you?”
Twirling a string of my hair that’s up in a bundle of coils, I reply, “Yeah, things like that.” To give myself something to do, I open a box of red, glittery ball ornaments then a box of silver ones. When I reach to hang the first red ball onto the tree, Omega touches my hand.
“What about your happiness?”
“Who me?”
“Yes, you, Astalia. What about your happiness?” he asks again.
“I get it from seeing her smile.”
“Well, what if all she wants to do is frown? Does that mean you’re never to be happy?”
“I didn’t think about it like that.”
“You have to change the way you look at it. It’s okay to want your mother to be happy. As a matter of fact, it’s commendable to do for our parents and make them happy. They gave us a lot and deserve the best. But above all else, your happiness matters. Now, tell me, what makes you happy, baby?”
It takes me a couple of minutes to think about what actually makes me happy at this point in my life. At one point, it was spending time with my father, and then that was stripped away from me. Achieving my degree and starting
my dream job are accomplishments I enjoy. But what makes me happy right now?
“You,” I admit in a shaky voice as I stare into Omega’s eyes.
He smiles and releases my hand. He picks up an ornament and hangs it close to the one I just put up. This sudden detachment leaves me feeling anxious until he starts speaking again. “Astalia, as much as I love hearing you say that, your happiness can’t be tied to anyone, including me. It starts with living your truth and not letting anything or anyone get in the way of that.”
“The crazy thing is I know these things, Omega. It’s just that when it comes to my mother, I clam up every time. Because of ambitions for my life, I feel obligated to make them come true. When my father was alive, he kept her at bay, but after he died, she just unleashed everything on me at once. She wants me to get married, wants me to have babies, wants me to lose weight, and a million other things that are everything but who I am. Sometimes, I wonder if she even loves the girl standing in front of her.” With that, I put the ornament in my hand back into the box and walk over to the sofa to sit down. Thinking about Lewis and now Mom has drained me of the festive spirit.
“That right there. That emotion I see in you right now. That’s what your mother needs to understand. Talk to her about the unfair requirements she puts on you. She does it because she knows you care enough about what she thinks. She needs to know you’ve closed yourself off and have started to tell her anything just to make her happy. She doesn’t even know you, for real.”
“Omega, I—”
“Astalia, make her see that girl standing in front of her. Because when I look at you, I see a sexy woman with not an ounce of weight in the wrong place. I love your body. I love your mind and your beautiful spirit. I also love that you wear your emotions on your sleeve so I can always detect how you feel. I love that you twirl your hair when you’re nervous, and I love that you care about others. I see you, Astalia. Your mother will too, but you have to start being brutally honest with her.”
My hand goes to my hair instinctively. I’m about to start twirling another strand, but Omega comes over to sit beside me on the sofa, takes my hand into his, and interlocks our fingers. His intense light brown eyes stare at me as he waits for a response.
“You’re right, and I will talk to her,” I say and mean it. “It’s time she respects me as a woman who lives her life the way she wants to. If I don’t get married and have children in the next year, that is fine. Life goes on, and it’s my life anyway.”
My confidence level rises with each proclamation of what I do or don’t have to do with my life. Stating them aloud makes them real. I don’t have to do what my mother wants, but I do have to do what makes me happy.
“Thank you, Omega!” Feeling released from an emotional prison, I leap into his lap and straddle him. “I don’t know what I would do without you. These last few days have taught me more about myself than I care to admit. The truth is, I have been lost since my dad died, and that’s because I didn’t realize how much of my happiness was tied to him.”
“Astalia, when I said I want to be here for you, I meant that. Being with you has made this holiday exciting, to say the least.”
I smile and lean in to press my forehead to his. “I’m just so glad we crossed each other’s path.”
He hugs me tightly, giving us a moment to just absorb the other’s essence. Then, he pats my backside and eases me off of him. Standing up, he claps his hands together. “Now, come on girl. Let’s make this place light up like Christmas!”
Omega laughs, and I giggle.
“Yes, sir.”
We spend the next three hours putting up the Christmas tree then putting away the items we bought from the store, and listening to Christmas carols. For me, being in Omega’s home, which he has slipped up more than once and called my home, feels right. He has made me comfortable. At this moment, I’m more attached to him than I have been to anyone since Dad.
