Born Of Nothing

24

I’d tried so hard all my life to be the best daughter I could be. I was polite, did well in school, and followed my mother’s rules. Despite my best efforts, my relationship with her had been unraveling for some time. After her latest proclamation, I didn’t think we could ever find our way back together. I had no choice but to openly defy my mother, something that would no doubt escalate our battles into a full-out war. My first step would be moving into my own apartment. Initially, I had entertained my mother’s wishes that I move in with Aileen because it wasn’t all that important to me who I lived with. Now, I could see there would be no happy middle ground. I would have to reject her chosen roommate and take steps to gain my independence. Those actions would likely set off a chain reaction that would leave me without any family. The thought alone had my shoulders curving in at the pain spearing through my chest. I felt naked and unprotected, like a flag left out in the storm. The conflict was ripping at my seams, and I would likely be shredded by the time the clouds passed. I reminded myself repeatedly that I had friends who cared about me, but it did little to bolster me in the moment. Rebecca and Ashley would be supportive, and I had no doubt I’d land on my feet, eventually. But until I reached that point, I was adrift. I snuck back inside the house well past midnight. Emotional exhaustion quickly tugged me into a fitful sleep. By the time I woke the next morning, my blankets had all migrated to the floor, and I’d somehow rotated myself sideways in the small bed. I had decided the night before that I would attend my mother’s dinner in order to keep the peace. One dinner would not harm me and keeping my mother happy would make my life easier while I was still living under her roof. Accepting my circumstances and having a plan in place made the looming Sunday dinner somewhat less foreboding, but I still felt an ominous cloud trailing overhead. I showered because my hours of wandering had left me smelling musty, but I didn’t put any more effort than necessary into my appearance. I didn’t wear makeup on a regular day, so I certainly wasn’t going to change that for our company. Mom never attempted to initiate a conversation, which was good because I had no interest in talking. Not until the front bell rang did I emerge from my self-imposed confinement wearing jeans and a simple long-sleeve shirt, my mouth set in a thin line. “Moira, Jimmy, it’s so good to have you. Come in, please.” My mother ushered in our guests, and as I rounded the corner, I gave them each a tight smile that likely came off as a grimace rather than a greeting. Moira was a few years older than my mom and a good deal heavier. Her husband was a large man with a rotund belly hanging over his belt. Both were dressed in their Sunday best and reminded me of the goofy neighbors in a 1950s sitcom. “Colleen, it’s a pleasure, thank you. Let me introduce our son, this is Brandan.” Moira put a hand on her son’s narrow shoulder and gazed up at him as if he’d hung the moon. “Yes, yes. Brandan it’s lovely to meet you, this over here is my daughter, Catronia.” She waved me over, but I stood firmly in place and waved my hello from the other side of the room. Brandan wasn’t necessarily unattractive, if you liked the tall, weaselly type. He flicked his head to toss sandy-blond hair out of his eyes and offered a leering smirk. Lovely. “Come on, Colleen. You two join me in the kitchen while I finish up and let the two youngsters get to know one another.” My treacherous mother grabbed her friend’s hand and they quickly disappeared around the corner with Jimmy close on their heels. “The house smells great—is that lamb?” asked Brandan as he ambled over to where I stood leaning against the door frame. “Yes, roast leg of lamb with soda bread, if I’m not mistaken.” My words were clipped but that didn’t seem to deter his advance. “Mom told me a little about you, said you like to make jewelry. Is that right?” My mom had never seen my jewelry as a passable career, so I was surprised to find she had shared that tidbit with my chosen suitor. “Yes, I’d love to be a professional jewelry maker someday.” He tilted his head to the side. “That sounds like it would be a great little hobby.” Little hobby? What a jerk! My arms crossed over my chest, a clear sign of my agitation, which he also ignored as he stepped yet closer. “And you? What is it you do?” I asked snidely. His chest puffed out and he smirked, signaling that I should prepare to be amazed. “I’m almost through with my finance degree. I’ll be working in a bank soon enough.” “That sounds fascinating.” Hello, sarcasm. Brandan, too full of himself to be aware of context clues, continued on obliviously. “Yes, it’s a great position to hold for our people. The elders are very pleased.” If I heard the words ‘our people’ or ‘elders’ again, I was certain I would scream. “It sounds like dinner is ready.” Not waiting for a response, I blew past Brandan into the dining area. Our parents had already taken their seats, the two women talking animatedly while Jimmy browsed his phone. I took the chair farthest from my mother, my little childish poke at the woman who was supposed to be my protector. As soon as Brandan sat down, my mother said a ritual blessing over the food, and we all began to make our plates. The table was made to seat four, but we made it work with some jostling elbows and carefully balanced plates. “Mrs. Murphy, this looks delicious,” Brandan offered. “I can only hope you’ve passed your cooking skills on to your daughter.” He winked at me in what was likely an attempt at flirtation but fell flat where I was concerned. “Actually, I’m not a fan of cooking,” I deadpanned, receiving raised eyebrows from Jimmy as he shoveled an oversized bite of lamb into his mouth. Not to be deterred, Brandan gave a conspiratorial look to my mother. “Well, I’m sure we can work on that.” The man was unbelievable. Every word out of his mouth was patronizing, and he was entirely too pompous to have the slightest clue. Even more upsetting, my mom ate up every word. Smiling coyly as if she was the object of his affection, my mother simpered. “Ach, I’ve tried to teach her, but she can be willful, that one.” It was as if I wasn’t even in the room! What a freaking nightmare! Worse than being invisible—it was as if I was an animal in a cage on display, my value being openly negotiated.