Her addition of the “ah” syllable reverts me back to childhood in an instant. To the obedient and good daughter that I’ve always been. Because my mom is second-generation Chinese-American and doesn’t know how to speak Mandarin, this was the only verbal acknowledgement of my Asian ancestry in my childhood.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been really busy with school.” And Jake, but I don’t mention him.
“I’m glad you’re studying hard. I hope you’re taking some time off with that handsome boyfriend of yours.”
Wow. It only took one minute for her to launch right into Weston-adoration. I steel myself. I’ve been putting off so many things after the breakup, and now I need to confront some of them. “Mom, Weston and I broke up.”
On screen, my mom’s mouth drops open. “What? Why would you break up? You two are perfect for each other!”
I clench my fists off-screen, attempting to keep my facial features calm. I hate letting my mom down—she’s had enough of that from Peter. My parents have never been hard on me, but part of mewonders if that’s because I’ve always done what they told me to, so there were no conflicts.
“It wasn’t a good relationship.”
Stay strong, I tell myself. I’m not going to get back together with Weston just to please my parents.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t a good relationship?” my mom persists.
I can barely get the next words out. “We… fought a lot. He scared me, Mom. He broke a bunch of my things. I thought during one of my fights he was going to hit me, and I had to hide in the bathroom.”
“What did you do to make him so angry?”
And this is what it feels like—not being seen. How quickly I've forgotten… because Jake's always seen me.
“Mom, isn’t it enough that he treated me like this?”
“What?” Her mouth flattens. “How many times has your brother broken things? That doesn’t mean we just give up on him.”
Why is this so hard? With Jake, it’s so easy.
“Mom, that’s family. That’s different.”
“Remember, you don’t always have the best decision-making skills.”
She’s bringing this up? The memory that I've tried so hard to suppress comes flooding into my mind. Red and blue flashing lights. Steam rising into the air. The smell of burning exhaust. Peter refusing to look at me as I wept.
“I know, Mom.” I want to scrub my face, but that will just place more attention on the tears welling in my eyes.
“Have you heard from Peter?”
One hard topic to the next, I guess. “I haven’t. But I thought the rehab doesn’t encourage any contact for the first bit as people dry out?”
“That’s over. He’s detoxed already. You should know this already.”
Oh no, really? As I count back in my head, I realize my mom’s right. For once, I haven’t been focusing on my family’s needs. I’ve been distracted by my own drama.
And Jake.
Shame coils in my chest, tight and unrelenting.
“What’s wrong with you? This isn’t like you! You always call on a regular basis to make sure we’re all okay. We need you, remember. Other than school, this is your biggest responsibility.”
My mom is the master of the guilt trip. And she’sreallygood at it.
“You’re right, Mom,” I sigh. “I’ve tried calling and texting several times, but I could have done more. I’m sorry.”
“And get back together with Weston. I’m sure he’ll take you back. Everyone has fights. Just make up and move on.”
I make a humming noise to bypass actual agreement and exchange a quick goodbye before ending the Zoom call.
