My Professor

27. Winter Break

The flight to Texas was long and miserable. All I could think about was Theodore. I dreaded the prospect of having to spend a month away from him; it was going to be painful.

My mom picked me up from the airport and we caught up on our way back to her house. She seemed well, but it wasn't long before she launched into all of the problems she was having with my sister, Monica.

"She's working again, at least, but it's only part time," my mom said.

"Where does she work?" I asked.

"One of the movie theaters in the neighborhood."

"That's not bad," I said.

"It's better than nothing, but she's twenty. She should be aspiring to do more with her life," my mom complained.

"Maybe she just needs more time to think about it."

"You know she lies to her therapist," my mom said. "On the rare occasion she actually goes."

"That's not surprising," I replied. Monica was a notorious liar, and neither my mom or I could figure out why.

"She's convinced there's nothing wrong with her," my mom said. "She refuses to take her meds longer than a week and then freaks out on me when I tell her why they're necessary."

"I'm sorry you have to go through this," I said, already exhausted by the conversation. I knew what was going to come next.

"Do you think you could talk to her?" my mom asked. "While you're in town? I think she'll be more likely to listen to you."

"Sure, mom," I said. "I'll see what I can do." I'd spoken to my sister about taking responsibility for her mental health before but it never seemed to sink in. She'd try for a week and then give out and spin out again. She didn't understand that we weren't against her, we just cared about her, and she usually interpreted our conversations as attacks on her. I felt bad for leaving my mom to deal with her all by herself, though, so I agreed to talk to Monica despite not wanting to be involved anymore.

"She drinks a lot, too," my mom said without bothering to acknowledge what a strain she was putting on me. "And I think she's smoking marijuana behind my back."

"That's not good."

"I think it's her way of trying to cope, but it'll do nothing but get her killed one day."

"I don't know, Mom. It's not healthy but that seems a little dramatic."

"You don't understand. I found an empty two liter bottle of wine hidden in her closet."

"I'll talk to her," I said. It was all I could do. Despite what my mom seemed to think, I had no control over Monica - nobody did. She did what she wanted, when she wanted, and although I didn't have the nerve to tell my mom, it was partially her fault. She'd always gone easy on Monica and now she had to put up with the spoiled brat she raised.

Satisfied with passing the brunt of the responsibility of dealing with my sister on me, my mom changed the subject and chatted happily about her job as a fifth grade school teacher.

* * *

I put off talking to my sister about her problems for as long as I could. My winter break trudged along and I kept in close contact with Theodore while I was out of town. We mostly communicated over text; I didn't want my nosey family to ask who I was talking to. Occasionally we would call each other, though, and talking to him honestly made my whole day. It made dealing with my mom and my sister a little more bearable.

Most of the time Monica and mom could get along, but after staying in the house with them for a few weeks it was clear that animosity was brewing between them. My sister acted sweet in front of me, but she was good at that, and she always painted herself to be a victim of our mother. Mom was annoying, Mom was nosey, Mom had unrealistic expectations for her. I was tired to hearing about it, but unfortunately I still had to get into the thick of it with her.

With a week left of my time in Texas, I sat down outside on the steps on the back patio with my sister. It was a sunny afternoon, relatively warm despite the fact that was December, and my sister had a coffee mug full of wine in her hand. I didn't comment on it. It wouldn't do anything but agitate her and I needed the conversation to go as smoothly as possible.

"Hey," I said after I sat down.

"Hey," Monica replied, brushing her short, straight hair over her shoulder.

"Are you working tonight?" I asked.

"Yeah, I go in at six."

"I gotcha."

There was a lull in the conversation as I worked up the energy to bring up all of our mom's concerns.

"Hey," I said, "I was talking to mom and she seems pretty concerned about you."

Monica rolled her eyes and heaved an exasperated sigh.

"She asked me to talk to you," I said.

"She's a lair," Monica said. "She exaggerates. She just wants attention."

"She says you haven't been going in to therapy."

"I have nothing to talk about," she said. "Seriously, it's so boring."

"You could talk about your relationship with mom."

"I don't want to talk about that."

"What about your anxiety issues? Or your depression?"

"I'm fine," she said, her tone growing sharp. "I have everything under control."

"If you had it under control I'm not sure you'd be day drinking," I pointed out.

"I'm drinking because I just wanted a drink," she snapped. "There's no hidden meaning to it."

"Sure," I said, already exhausted by the conversation.

"Did you come out here to put me on trial like mom?" Monica demanded.

"No. I just want you to get help."

"I don't need help," she said. "I'm perfectly fine."

After talking to Monica, I wanted nothing but to get back to Oregon. I gave my mom the disappointing update - I told that there was nothing I could do. She insisted I try again before I left. I agreed, but I had no intention to.

I worried about my mom and my sister, but I also worried about myself. How could I start a life for myself after college if I was constantly babysitting those two? Being emotionally wrapped up in their problems was draining and I worried it would hold me back from reaching my full potential in life. I didn't want to cut them off, but I definitely needed to maintain some space. My mom and my sister had no boundaries and it wasn't serving anyone well.

I was relieved when I boarded my flight back to Oregon. I was able to leave my family problems behind and get back to focusing on school - among other things. I missed school, I missed my job, and mostly, I missed Theodore. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as the plane took off, and I counted the hours until I could see him again.