3.i: Tension
2.6k 12 115
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

I let the door close behind me gently as I leave Dawn alone in my room. It worried me, leaving her alone to her thoughts like that, but what I was doing was important too. I took a couple breaths, lingering outside the door to my room as I thought.

Mom is definitely going to ask questions. We never ask to call Aunt Fern. She might have dismissed it as just a spur-of-the-moment thing any other day, but after specifying today as a mental health day, she’ll be concerned. I really couldn’t answer any of the questions that she might ask. I rubbed my thigh absentmindedly in thought as I fretted over the specifics. Eventually, I gather up the strength of will to drag myself downstairs.

I gotta do this for Dawn.

I approached the kitchen, and I could hear the sounds of a knife chopping on a cutting board. I turn the corner into the kitchen and I can see mom chopping veggies. Her face is uneasy as she chops, she’s thinking about something. Likely Dawn.

She notices after a couple of seconds that I had entered the kitchen, and she shows me an uneasy smile. I take that as my cue to step closer and I settle myself on the opposite side of the island from her. I take a seat on a stool and her eyes flick behind me. Seemingly not seeing what she wants to, she turns back to me. I don’t really adjust my view from her as she turns back. I smile at her gently. She had this look on her face back when we were in Dawn’s room before.

I speak up first, “Morning, mom.” Speaking seems to snap her out of whatever trance she was in, and she seems to brighten up a bit at my words. The unsettled look doesn’t leave her eye, but the smile she wears helps lessen it a bit.

“Good morning, Elaine. Where’s Daniel?” she asks, continuing her chopping casually. At the mention of his old name, I bite my tongue.

“Upstairs. They’re… dealing with a lot of things right now.” I say, carefully. I don’t want to say anything more than I have to. It’s gonna be her choice when she’s able to tell mom and I don’t want to out her before she’s ready for that confrontation. I see her grip on her knife tighten as her chopping falters and I tense. I look at her body language, seeing worry flash across her visage. We don’t speak for several minutes as she slowly chops vegetables again.

The silence hanging in the air is tense. I think we both understood what the other wanted. She had seen it in my look while we were sitting in Dawn’s room. The pleading look I had given her in silence as her hand hovered over Dawn, my hand holding hers in place. She had been about to pull up the covers and I had stopped her. She had looked confused as I held her hand in place. She had the same look now as she chopped vegetables in silence. It was a look that yearned to just ask ‘why’, but didn’t want to pry.

I felt my heart cry out a little, to just tell her; to tell it all. It wasn’t my secret to tell, though, and I knew it.

Instead, I got up and walked around the island, mom’s gaze was drawn from her chopping over to me. I leaned forward carefully into her, embracing her in a hug. She took the time to place the knife down carefully before embracing me in a hug too. We said nothing, but eventually I break away from the hug with a smile.

“They’ll be okay, you know?” I said, gently. I didn’t want to broach the subject, but it really seemed like it was bothering her.

“They?” Mom was almost a whisper. I cringed a bit at the fact that she’d picked up on it. I couldn’t bring myself to call her a ‘he’ out loud, though. I ignored the question, continuing with my entire reason for coming down.

“Can I have Aunt Fern’s number, Mom?”

That seemed to startle her out of whatever musings she was going through in her head. Her eyes seemed to go wide at the mention of her sister, and she pulled back a bit to look at me properly. Her eyes were searching me, but for the life of me I couldn’t tell what she was looking for.

Eventually, her eyes make their way back up to mine; I raise an eyebrow. She sighs, running a hand through her hair absently. “Why?” The question is brief, and I wasn’t exactly sure of the implications it carried.

“Do I need a reason?” I tilted my head, trying to avoid answering more questions. “She’s family, isn’t she?” Mom met my gaze, squinting at me.

“You’ve never called her before.” She responds, leaning against the counter and folding her arms.

“Cause Dad doesn’t want us talking to her. She doesn’t stop by anymore because of him, after all.” I roll my eyes.

“And when have your Father's concerns ever stopped you before?” She says, raising an eyebrow. I’m a little shaken by the comment, but I brush it off. I roll my eyes and fold my arms. I look back at her and we share a couple moments of eye contact. “Why do you want to talk to Aunt Fern?”

“I just do, okay?”

“Is this about Daniel?” My eye twitches gently at the name, I push down the whirling fire in my gut. She doesn’t know.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? Can’t we just talk to our Aunt?” I pause before turning my head away and adding in a lower tone, “Or do you want her gone, like Dad does.”

She doesn’t respond for a couple seconds, and when I turn back to her, she has a look of shock on her face. My words fall out of my mouth, my gut sinking darkly in guilt. She looks as if I’d slapped her, hurt clear in her eyes. She takes a second before her intense eyes shift downwards, not meeting mine. She takes a deep breath before meeting my eyes. I stagger backwards at the look she gives me.

“You know it isn’t like that, Elaine. They may not get along, but we don’t want her gone.” She says, tone measured. I can hear the barely contained anger behind it, and I clench my fists.

“Yeah, sure.” I say, not meeting her eyes. “Can we talk to her or what?” I all but spit the words, mood soured.

“You still haven’t answered my question, Elaine.” She says, not budging.

“Of course it’s about Daw-” I stop myself and try again, “D-Daniel. Why does it matter?” I ask, challengingly. She sighs, slumping against the counter.

“Am I not allowed to worry about my own children? Why won’t you just tell me what’s happening? Why call Aunt Fern instead of your own mother?” I can feel the tears creeping into her eyes as she leans over the counter. I don’t hold back though, temper reaching a boiling point as I let my frustrations flow from me freely.

“What, you mean like how I told you that I was gay? You mean when you went around my back and told Dad? When he punished me for it and you stood by doing nothing?” I spit, not bothering to look at her. “Sorry if I currently trust Aunt Fern with her feelings right now more than I do, you.” I say, not looking at Mom. I can hear her quietly sobbing over the counter and I take a peek, guilt continuing to claw at my senses. I had slipped up and called Dawn by the correct pronouns in my anger, but she seemed too broken up to say anything. My anger dripped away as I looked at her. I sigh, dragging myself over to the counter next to her.

She says nothing and we both stand there, both of us waiting for a couple seconds to think about how to proceed before starting. “I’m sorry, Mom… I didn’t mean to, you know…” I stop, taking a deep breath. “It’s not about you, Mom. It’s not my place to tell you what’s going on. I’m just trying to help how I can.” I tell her, sighing. I lean against her gently, hoping that she doesn’t push me away. I hated being mad at Mom as much as I hated her being mad at me.

I could feel her arm pull me closer, but she doesn’t look at me. “I’m sorry.” She says. I shake my head while leaning against her.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things…”

“Not that. I’m sorry I didn’t help you more.” She continues, pulling me around to look me in the eye. “You know I support you, sweetie. I thought I could bring your father around to the idea, but I only ended up hurting you by telling him before you were ready…” She looked hurt as she spoke, “I care a lot about you two, I just want you to trust me enough to talk to me.” She holds me at arm’s length, looking me in the eyes. We stood there for a couple more seconds as the last bits of my anger dripped away, dejection falling into my tone as I turned my head to the side.

“Why can’t I bring my girlfriend around, then?”

“Your father-” I cut her off before she can continue the thought, spinning my head back to look her in the eyes.

“Dad’s not here, Mom. I want to know why you won’t let me. I hear a lot about how you support us, but if nothing happens… do you know how much those empty promises hurt?” I ask, pain clawing through my voice. She looks frozen by my words and we stand there, arms’ length from each other for several minutes; neither moving. I break the silence with another question, “Can we continue this later? My sibling needs me and I promised I’d get Aunt Ferns number.” I sigh, feeling thoroughly emotionally drained. Mom's mouth opens to answer when something strange happens.

I can feel tension in my limbs leaving my body. My hands loosened from the fists they were unconsciously clenched into. The sinking pit in my stomach seems to shrink; it doesn’t disappear, but it becomes much less. I can see the conflict and struggle disappear from Mom’s face as we stand staring at each other. Whatever I was feeling, I was certain she could feel it too. I could feel mirth bubbling up underneath my skin, threatening to brighten my day. It was like I was an empty balloon being pumped with happiness. Life entered Mom’s eyes as I looked at her, confusion entering her eyes.

I could see her gaze scanning my eyes, searching for something. My breath catches at the sudden change of mood in the room. All the tension and emotion from the last ten minutes gave way to an eerie calm. I looked around the room, as if the answer to that calm would be somewhere nearby. As I turned back to Mom, I noticed her gazing towards the stairwell. Her hand lifted gently in that direction before falling back down and looking at me. We’re both a little lost for words at the feeling, and I cough before speaking up.

“Um, like I was saying… I’m sorry and stuff, so, can I have Aunt Ferns phone number?” I scratch the back of my head, an awkward discomfort at the current situation settling in. The previous tension had completely vanished, leading way to a weird hesitance hanging in the air at how to proceed. Mom seems to stare at me for a few more seconds before holding her hand out in front of her to look at it. She seems to focus intently for a few seconds before dropping the hand once more. She looks puzzled as she looks intently at the counter in thought.

She turns back to me, seeming to contemplate her words. “Promise that you’ll make sure he’s okay?” I nod gently in response. Mom seems to accept the answer, picking up her knife from the counter and going back to whatever meal she’s preparing. “My purse is over there on the counter.” At her permission, I steadily make my way towards the purse and find her phone. I brought it back to her to unlock and copied Aunt Fern’s number into my phone. I placed her phone back into her bag gently, heading towards the stairwell.

I’m stopped by mom’s voice calling after me, “Elaine, one second.” I steeled myself, walking back to the entrance to the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mom?” I tiredly asked. I didn’t want to get into another fight so soon.

“I’d…” Mom bites her lip, eyes flicking to a nearby picture on the wall. I glanced over at the picture, but I already knew who was in it. The picture was her and dad posing together in front of a waterfall. Our eyes meet a second later as I turn my gaze back to her and she takes a steadying breath. “I’d like to meet your girlfriend, Elaine. If it’s okay with you, I’d love to invite her to dinner tonight.” She says, carefully, as if to not offend me. I blink in surprise, the words taking several seconds to process in my brain. She continues, gesturing to the array of vegetables and the package of cubed beef around her, “I’m making a stew.”

I fight back the approaching tears, flashing a smile to Mom. She smiles back, a little nervousness peeking around the edge of her expression. “Yeah, uh, I’ll ask her.” I say, lingering in the kitchen for a few more seconds. After almost an entire minute of lingering, I walk back over to Mom and embrace her in a hug once more. She pats my hair gently as I do. “Thank you, Mom. I’m sorry, again.” The embrace only lasts a few more seconds before I gather myself up and pull away. She hums gently, nodding. 

Finally, I make my way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs. I was excited to invite my girlfriend over. I hope it goes well, because I really can’t stomach anything more emotionally draining today. With that in mind, I made my way back to the room and opened the door.

My editing software had a field day messing this chapter up when I was trying to upload it, so, if there are any glaring mistakes that I missed, please let me know so I can fix it! Hope I got all of the worst ones though, hehe. Enjoy!

115