Fighting for the Fairytale

Nora

"Mom?" I called out as I kicked off my sandals and flopped bare foot up the stairs to the kitchen.

My parents' house was a modest split-level home with the kitchen, living room, one bathroom, and two bedrooms upstairs and a living space, laundry room, a bedroom and a bathroom on the bottom level.

Opening the fridge door, I deposited the dessert pan. 

"Nora! You're here!" Mom appeared in the kitchen and hugged me, as if I hadn't seen her this morning at church.

I hugged her back. "Hi Mom. I brought dessert. It's in the fridge."

"Oh sweetheart, you didn't have to bring anything!"

"I know, but it felt weird not bringing anything. You raised me that way." I looked around the kitchen, noting the lack of food prep on the counters. "Do you need help with dinner or anything?"

Mom looked around, thinking. "Hmm, no I don't think so. I have the salads made already, the steaks are marinating. I'll start the grill in a little bit, maybe when the boys are done tinkering. Although who knows when that will be."

"Probably soon," I replied. "Cole's not really a car guy." 

"That's true," Mom agreed as she opened the fridge, removed a pitcher of lemonade. "I like that about him. Nora, honey, can you hand me some of those taller glasses from the cupboard, please?"

"Uh, okay." I walked the span of the kitchen in three steps and opened the top cupboard, handing Mom one glass at time. "What do you mean you like that Cole's not into cars?"

"It's not a criticism," she explained quickly, filling a glass and handing it to me. "I just meant that I like that Cole is different compared to the other men in your life."

I snorted. "The only other man in my life before Cole was Dad." 

"Well, your father has his faults." Mom put the pitcher back in the fridge. 

What did that mean? Were Mom and Dad having trouble in their marriage?

"Mom." I waited until she was looking at me. "Is everything okay? Between you and Dad, I mean." 

Mom smiled. "Yes, yes of course." She took a sip of lemonade. "Why don't we head out onto the deck? It's such a gorgeous day." 

She led the charge to the sliding door just off the dining room, and I let the subject drop. 

Of course, nothing's wrong. They're so happy together.

The backyard deck was my favorite part of the house. It faced south, so you could see the sun rising or setting. A large patio table sat in the middle with a free standing umbrella hovering over to provide shade.

The two of us each took a seat. Even with the umbrella, the sun glared. I slid my sunglasses from the top of my head down over my eyes, and leaning back in my chair, drank my lemonade. 

"How's work going?" Mom asked.

I opened my mouth to reply before swallowing. Coughing, I put a hand on my chest as the sweet liquid burned down my throat. "I'm okay," I assured Mom when I could finally talk. "Work is...work."

Mom made a sympathetic sound. "It's not getting any better, huh?"

"No, not really." 

Mom got quiet, her forehead wrinkled as she drank her lemonade.

Great. Good. You're bringing positivity and kindness everywhere you go. Way to be humble.

Feeling bad, I tried to salvage the conversation. "But I do enjoy the people I work with. Celeste is great, and Dr. Tom mentioned that they were interviewing people for a new position, someone to help Celeste and I out. We need it. Patient volumes seem to be increasing by the day."

"I'm happy to hear Steve's doing well for himself and his partners." 

"Yeah," I nodded in agreement. Ready for a change of topic, I asked, "How's your work been?" 

"Good, good." Mom nodded. "I've decided to cut back to part time, though. Standing on my feet all day has really started to bother my legs. I can't fall asleep at night without my legs being propped up."

"Oh, I'm sorry." 

Mom waved off my apology. "Happens when you get old. You and Brielle will get there someday." 

"Gee, thanks Mom." I laughed, drinking some lemonade. 

"What? It's true!" Mom laughed, coming over to squeeze my cheek. "But it won't happen for a long, long time, okay?"

"Yes, cause that makes it better." I put my feet up on the open chair in front of me. "Speaking of, have you heard from Brielle?"

"Not recently," Mom said, standing up. She walked over to the propane grill in the corner of the deck, removing the protective cover. "Have you?"

"She called me last week to tell me to post the wedding pictures on Facebook so she could show all her college friends how amazing her make-up looked." 

Mom smiled back at me. "You both looked amazing." 

"Ha, thanks, Mom." I drank some more lemonade as the sliding door opened behind me.

Dad and Cole tromped onto the deck, my husband coming to my side. 

I offered him my glass of lemonade. He shook his head.

"Want some help with that grill, Les?" Dad asked, twirling the lighter in his hand like a pistol. "I don't want you to get all smoky."

"You're finished with the truck already?" Mom asked as she made a show of looking at her watch. 

Always was the dramatic one. And she wonders where Brielle gets her love of theater.

Dad ate it up, grinning from ear to ear, as he lifted the grate with ease and lit it. "No, Cole and I got the first two put on, but decided to take a break before finishing the others. Thought we'd come help out you ladies with the meal."

Mom patted Dad on the cheek. "You just don't want me touching your grill, right?"

Dad looked sheepish. "I plead the fifth."

"It was one time!" Mom threw up her hands, more for Cole's sake than mine, but I still smiled. I'd heard this story before. "I overcooked the steaks til they were basically shoe leather once, and now David refuses to let me anywhere near his grill." Mom joined in Cole and I's laughter, hugging Dad to her side. 

How could this woman be my mother? Someone who took embarrassment in stride and didn't let it belittle her like I did? She was amazing. 

I was nothing like my mother, nothing really like my parents. They were both amazing, had the perfect love story, the perfect relationship. 

How could Cole and I get to that? 

"Nora?"

"Yeah?" I turned my attention back to Mom. 

She smiled, forgivingly. "Why don't you come on in with me and help me grab some lemonade for the boys?"

"Oh, sure." 

Back in the kitchen, lemonade pitcher back in hand, Mom asked me. "So, do you have anything special planned for Cole's birthday. That's in a couple weeks, right?"

I grabbed the full glass she handed to me. "Actually, it's this Friday. I took the day off, but I don't really have a plan in place yet."

"No worries. I was just curious." She squeezed my arm. "I think you'll make Cole's birthday special just by being with him."

"Yeah," I looked back at Cole. Be kind to each other. "I hope you're right, cause right now that's about all I got."