The Second Week in August

Chapter 6: Two Worlds

Carefully, I removed my MacBook from my backpack, placing it on my home office desk. I let out a resounding sigh. The sun was slowly starting to set, and I had successfully managed to accomplish nothing for the day, along with working myself up into a panic about why Gloria was keeping me in the dark about a secret project she was working on with Gabe.

Gabe...

There it was—the real reason I found myself unable to focus on my to-do list.

I couldn't put my finger on why, but something about him had tattooed itself inside me, completely occupying all four corners of my mind. I spun from side-to-side on my chair, subconsciously picking at a hangnail on my right thumb. The flash of my mom's name lighting up my phone snapped me out of it.

Are you on your way?

I sighed for the second time, dragging myself off the chair. I still had another hour before I had to report to my parent's house, but it was just like Ellen to micromanage the situation, keeping tabs on my whereabouts.

I reluctantly typed back a response, letting her know I would be there around seven. With such short notice, it seemed a bit presumptuous to dictate my arrival time to me. I shook my head, knowing this was old news. The back and forth power struggle between my mother and I had existed for as long as I could remember.

Whether it was her disapproval at my choice of friends, her ability to make me feel poorly about myself with a simple glace, or her general lack of interest in my life, thoughts of my mother never elicited warm, fuzzy feelings. Fluctuating between two extremes, Ellen was either trying to control my every move, attempting to mold me into the daughter she wanted me to be, or off living her life, completely oblivious to the needs, wants, and desires of her only daughter. Growing up, attempting to do everything in my power to gain her love and approval, while also attempting to separate my own passions from her opinions had always proved to be difficult.

I reached for an apple in the fridge, knowing that showing up hungry would only further aggravate my already not-so-pleasant mood. I needed all the help I could get when it came to getting through this dinner.

After an outfit change, a quick stop to pick up wine, and a few subway delays later, I arrived at my parent's home.

"You're late," Ellen stated to me as she opened the heavy oak door to my childhood home.

I'm sorry," I replied. "There was a delay at Yonge and Eglinton."

"Of course there was," she said as she turned to hang my coat in the front closet. "I don't know why you insist on riding the subway. You have no idea how many germs you're exposed to, " she told me as she shook her head and turned back around to face me. "You could at least take an Uber if you refuse to use the family's car service," she continued to chastise.

I nodded, only half-listening to a narrative I had heard one too many times.

"Lousia, are you listening?" she asked, picking up on my lack of attention.

"Yes, yes, sorry," I said, following my usual apologetic routine.

She led me through the long hallway leading to the back sitting room where I knew there would be a tray of charcuterie awaiting our arrival, along with my dad who would likely be absorbed in a book, oblivious to my presence.

This time he surprised me with a grunt, slight raise of the head, and quick eye contact.

"Hi Dad," I said plopping myself down onto the love seat directly across from him.