My Replacement Husband

My Replacement Husband (9) Choose Wisely and Once

"I like it here." That was true.

"You told me it's dirty, crowded, and over-priced." That was also true.

"It feels right though–being here–it makes sense to me. It's not just about getting away from mom's never-ending checklist for my life. It feels like a part of dad is here with me." I had mourned for so long. I was only twelve when he passed away. Kathy had barely turned ten. I don't think our mother ever stopped mourning him. "I can't believe he was a professor at NYU. I actually can't even imagine him doing anything else but living in Alabama."

Kathy went quiet for a moment.

"Are you still there?" I asked.

"I'm still here." I wondered if she was misty-eyed too.

"I think dad would have wanted me here," I said truthfully.

Kathy huffed. "Dad would have wanted you to reconcile with mama."

She wasn't wrong.

"We got into such a nasty fight before I left. You saw." I could almost remember the way our mother looked at me with such anger and ferocity. I hated how upset I had made her. No daughter wants to disappoint their parent. "She ripped up my acceptance letter. If I hadn't found it in the trash, who knows if I would have ever found out?"

"Mama is just doing what she thinks is best," Kathy defended. "It's out of her love for you."

I was used to Kathy taking her side at this point. "I know, but it just made me realize how badly I needed to leave. I'll admit I didn't leave things the right way..."

I had been livid. Ugly words had been said on both sides. "If she loved me like you say she does, then she doesn't have to basically disown me for moving."

"Do you, of all people, want to actually talk about love?" Kathy shouted so loudly I had to move my ear from the phone. "Do you know what? You're just selfish, Julie. Do you know how hard it is to raise two girls alone? Mama did it for us. She could have shacked up with Mr. Fairbanks, and his gross beer belly and stupid teenage son, who got arrested for streaking nude. She didn't because even if it made her life easier, ours would have been worse. She chose the harder life for us. That's love."

It was my turn to be mad. "I appreciate that! Did I ever say mom didn't do a lot for us?"

Kathy wasn't the one who lived under our mother's constant disappointment. She scorned me for not making cotillion because of my two left feet. When I felt more inclined to reading and writing than joining the local girls' choir, she had locked away my books in her closet until I joined. She wasn't the one our mother called "unsophisticated" or "a waste of great potential" or "a mockery of our family name". What did Kathy know when I was always at the end of her wrath?

"Do you think I don't know what mom has done for us? I hate that what I want in my life doesn't make her happy, but she didn't give me the choice to stay." I remembered the first emotion I felt when I found the torn letter: it wasn't anger, it was sadness. "Is that love? When the only choice you give someone is to stay?"

Kathy and I had reached an impasse.

"Do you know what, Julie? You can stay in New York all your life and never see us again if you really feel that way. No one is forcing you to come home," Kathy spat before ending the call abruptly. I could tell she was crying before the call closed.

Hurt, I brushed back some tears.

"Hey." It was the iconic 'hey' I didn't know I would soon grow accustomed to for the next ten years or so.