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"Yeah?"
"I didn't have a great relationship with my parents. And I vowed that I would never be like them," she shakes her head. "But I think we eventually become our parents. Not the parts we didn't like, but the parts that seemed to stick out to us the most. My mom never liked any of my choices. She used to get so angry with me. To be fair, I didn't make great decisions."
"You?" I joke. "No way."
"Yes, me."
"I know, Mom." I reach for her hand. "I know you're doing your best just like I am."
"I wanted children," she shrugs. "I wanted them so badly. I wanted to give your dad a whole basketball team, but I couldn't."
"I'm sorry." I don't know what else to say.
"It worked out in the end," Mom replies. "We have you. And things will work out for you, too."
"I hope so."
"I know that you haven't always felt like you fit in with all of us, but you do."
"It's not that I don't feel like I fit in," I struggle to find the right words, "it's that I think differently than you and Dad do. I don't know how to live with you and not piss you both off."
"I thought when you moved home," Mom leans back in her chair, "you and Dad would figure out your differences. But I see what neither of you do."
"What do you see?" I play along.
"He gave you his stubbornness."
"Yeah. He should have talked to me about Steve staying here," I frown.
"You know your dad," Mom exhales. "Everyone, and I mean everyone, is treated like family. He and your Aunt Jenny have that in common. When you called and told us you were getting divorced, he had a hard time with it."
"He's made that perfectly clear."
"There were so many nights where he couldn't sleep because Ava wasn't with us. He worried about her constantly. I think he was so focused on making sure that she was OK at Audra's that he sometimes overlooked what you needed. Not because he loves you any less, but because he knew you were safe. He knew you were here. He could keep an eye on you. He knew you were taken care of."
"Is that supposed to make up for all the crappy things he's said to me?"
"No," Mom shakes her head in the waning moonlight. "Not at all. What I'm trying to say is that sometimes we become the things we promised ourselves we'd never be when we were younger. Your father isn't perfect, Izzy. None of us are."
"I don't want perfect," I tell her. "I want understanding."
"I will talk to your father, and I will also do my best to let you live your life without interfering. I just want so much for you, Iz."
"I know, Mom."
"If I've made you feel like you've failed or I'm disappointed in you, I'm sorry. I never meant to...I didn't mean to push you further away."
"It's been rough with Steve here," I purse my lips. "When he leaves, maybe the tension will leave with him."
"God," Mom chuckles, "I sure hope so. He's wearing me out."
"He does that," I smile.
"Let's head inside before we both get frostbite," she pats my leg.
Mom leads the way, and I lock the door behind us. We say goodnight at the top of the stairs, then I tiptoe to my shared room with Brianna.
As I kick off my boots, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
