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After the kids finish eating and scramble to the living room, I turn to Peter. “Do you know anyone named Jane?”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “No, why? Do you think that’s the person who’s been impersonating you?”
“Nobody’simpersonatingme. Sylvia’s just out to get me.”
Peter lifts an eyebrow. “That’s quite the accusation.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“What makes you say that?”
I tell him about my latest conversation with her, including her claim that I was wearing my purple tank top. I don’t tell him I found it in the hamper.
He doesn’t mention having put it there.
I don’t ask. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m losing my mind. Because I’m not.
Peter threads his fingers through mine. “Did your nap help you relax at all?”
“It did until I spoke with Sylvia.”
“Maybe stay away from her.”
“Believe me, that’s my plan going forward.”
He presses his lips against my palm, tickling my skin. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“Tell me.”
Peter holds my gaze for a moment before continuing. “I think you’re taking too much on. Your mom has been asking a lot of you lately, when what she needs is to find a better solution for your dad. She can’t expect you to drop everything whenever she needs to leave the house. You can’t do that.”
I don’t see how that has anything to do with my stress. Sure, I need to set firmer boundaries, but at the same time, she’s my mom. My parents raised me, took care of me, put my needs ahead of their own, and all while dealing with my brother.
Michael was already institutionalized by the time I was born, but even so, the hospital called multiple times a week to report something he’d done and usually notify them about having to physically restrain him or put him in solitaryagain. I swear my brother spent the majority of his teen and preteen years alone in a padded room for his safety as much as everyone else’s. It doesn’t sound like his adulthood has been much different. Not that I’d know firsthand, because I haven’t seen him since I was in high school—the last time my parents could force me to visit him. He glared at me like he wanted to harm me the entire time we were there.
I shudder to think what my life would’ve been like if the state hadn’t locked him away.
“Angelina?” Peter squeezes my hand.
“You might be onto something. What do you think about a family vacation in December?”
“Around Christmas?”
“It’s the perfect boundary. If we aren’t in town, how can my mom draw me into her drama? Her anxiety always ramps up around the holidays.”
He nods, looking deep in thought. “That’s true. Do you have anything in mind?”
I tell him my idea. “But I’m open to anything, really. I think it would be great to get away and go somewhere warm.”
“Let’s look into it. I’ll put in for vacation time first thing tomorrow morning. Thankfully I have seniority and plenty of unused days off.”
I can’t help but smile. “How much time?”
“More than two weeks.”
“That’s perfect!” I clap my hands, unable to believe things are finally taking a turn for the better.
Except they’re not. My heart sinks, and my smile fades.
