Discipline

A Family Affair

I wake up and briskly walk to my bathroom, splashing cold water on my face and looking up at myself in the mirror. I’m visiting Grand Rapids today. I’m going to see my family. I have not seen them since Christmas. That’s right—I missed my mom’s, my dad’s, and my birthday with them. I have become fantastic at making up excuses. But this time, I actually kind of want to go. I need some motherly advice.

I dry my face and proceed to get ready. I pick out a simple black three-quarter-length sleeve dress with intricate black tights and black booties. I shower quickly and then get dressed. I move from my makeup to my jewelry—gold-toned today with a gold hoop in my left nostril.

I decide to just drink a glass of milk for breakfast as I down my Prevacid. I put on my Urban Decay lipstick in the shade Obsessed and then I’m out the door. I decided to rent a car to take to GR so I could have the GPS and stuff already built into it. I plug in my once-home address and then shove a mix CD into the player.

It takes me about two and a half hours to arrive in Kentwood (the suburb I grew up in). Traffic was light; probably because it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday. I sing along to the music that booms out of the subwoofers in the back of the rental. My arms and hand shake against the steering wheel—a representation of my anxiety.

I pull into my parents’ driveway and do my exiting-the-car routine. I look at myself in the rearview mirror and adjust my nose ring. I’m ready. I get out of the car and walk up the driveway, my clunky booties clacking against the cement. I knock on the door and patiently wait.

“Elizabeth!” My mom exclaims joyfully. She wraps her arms around me.

“Hi, Mom,” I mumble, patting her back awkwardly.

“Well, come inside; come inside!” She steps back into the house and I follow her.

The interior of the house looks exactly the same, which some minor paint differences. I notice my dad sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs. “Hey, Dad!”

“Hi, Elizabeth,” he replies solemnly. He barely looks up at me.

I decide to give him some space and sit on the loveseat next to the couch.

“Actually,” my mom says matter-of-factly, “we’re meeting your sister for lunch. We’ve got to leave right now.”

“Oh!” I immediately stand. “Dad, are you coming with us?”

“Your dad isn’t feeling well, Elizabeth. He’s just going to stay here.” My mom has an annoyed look on her face

My heart breaks a little. They obviously were fighting about me earlier—they always do. My dad can’t stand the sight of me, nor can he stand what I do for a living. He either doesn’t care or he cares too much. I don’t know. That’s what my mom said the last time I talked to her.

“Alright, let’s go then. Hope you feel better, Dad.” I follow my mom out the door.

“Ugh! How can you stand walking in those shoes?” My mom asks with disgust.

“Practice…” Then the memory of Alex asking me that exact same question floods my mind and I can’t help but smile to myself.

On the way to the restaurant, we drive by my old high school. Ah, my days as a Falcon… so fucked up. I liked high school most of the days I went there, but sometimes, it was extremely overwhelming. But I made it through and that’s all that matters. I’m guessing my teachers would think I’m off being a doctor or lawyer or something like that due my great people skills, debating performance and my 3.87 GPA. But nope, I smack guys with paddle and twist their nipples for a living.