Saturday, November 19
(Keller)
The way they're looking at me makes me feel small and inconsequential. It's like their disappointment in me has reached an all-time high, and I haven't even opened my mouth yet. The last time I demanded their time like this was when I told them Lily was pregnant. I guess I set a precedent for delivering what they consider to be bad news, and they're expecting nothing short of that now.
I glance at my palm, Katie's handwriting: You are brave. She wrote it in sharpie this morning before she took Stella to the park. I repeat the mantra in my head, You are brave. I clear my throat. "I've decided to change my major and pursue a new degree."
My mother is on her feet. That quickly. One sentence and she's already objecting like she's in the courtroom. Let the crucifixion begin. "You will do no such thing. You're not throwing away years of schooling."
My father's hand rests on her forearm. He's urging her to take a seat without addressing her directly. He's always been the passive yin to her aggressive yang. Once again, they're sitting across the table from me as a united front. Emotionally distant, even from each other, but united. Some things never change.
My father fills in the silence, "What are your plans, Keller?"
I don't want to see the disappointment, but I look at him anyway. "I want to teach high school English."
My mother is on her feet again, pacing away from the table. Her heels clicking on the hardwood floor is the grating equivalent of fingernails dragging across a chalkboard. "Oh for God's sake, Keller, how are you supposed to even begin to support Stella on a teacher's salary?" She manages to make teacher sound like a four letter word.
"People do it all the time. The endgame for me isn't to get rich. Stella and I will be fine."
She waves me off in irritation and turns away momentarily before firing back. "This isn't a game, Keller. You have a daughter to provide for. I thought you wanted to study law—"
I cut her off. "You wanted me to study law, to follow in your footsteps. It's never been about me, about what I want."
She shakes her head. "After everything we've done for you, this is how you repay us?"
Unbelievable. "What about me, Mother? I want a career I love, something I'm passionate about. I want to come home every night from work and feel like I've made a difference in someone's life."
She points an accusatory, manicured finger at me. "You don't think I make a difference, Keller?"
I will never win with this woman. "Jesus, this isn't a competition," I sigh. "Your job's more important than mine, more important than his." I gesture in my father's direction. He's been very quiet. "This is about what makes me happy. Me. Your son."
"You'll lose your scholarship." She seems sure of it, and I wonder how many strings she's pulled in the past to get what I currently have.
I don't blink. I can't show fear anymore. I glance at my palm. You are brave. "That's a possibility."
She huffs haughtily. "Possibility? Possibility? It's a certainty, Keller."
"I'll apply for student loans."
She barks out a cold laugh, as if a loan is below the Banks family.
My father finally speaks up. "What about Stella, Keller? Have you considered how this decision will affect her future?"
Brave, brave, brave. "I'm moving Stella to Grant to live with me. As soon as finals are over—"
My mother lunges toward the table. "What?! Stella is not leaving this house until you have completed your education."
I answer with a lunge of my own. We're nose to nose across the table. "She's my daughter."
"I am not paying for Melanie to move to Grant to care for Stella." She thinks she's got me.
"I'll speak to Melanie and let her know that her services will no longer be required after December nineteenth. I'm planning on picking up Stella and her belongings after finals; that's when Duncan's moving out of our place to live with his girlfriend."
She's seething now. "How would you even begin to know how to take care of a child? Visiting every other weekend is a lot different than twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week."
"I'll figure it out."
My mother looks at my father shaking her head defiantly. "Did you hear that? He'll figure it out." She throws her hands in the air. "Wonderful. He'll figure it out."
My father's looking at me, and for the first time in my life, I see sympathy in his eyes. For a second, I think he's going to take my side. For the first time, he's going to stand up to my mother. But as the silence stretches on, my hope fades.
I can't be in here anymore. I feel trapped, like I can't breathe. I know my mother will see my escape as conceding defeat. She'll take it as a victory.
But not this time. This time, I win.