Chapter 8: The Parts She Still Hid
1140 Words
Tomorrow comes sooner than Becca wanted it to.
She pulled a pair of tiny silver earrings out of their case and hooked them into her ears. Her daughter’s guidance counselor appointment was at ten am.
She wasn’t scared of college.
She was afraid of choosing wrong.
Overthinking has become habitual.
Decades of decisions with unpredictable consequences replayed themselves in her mind.
She hadn’t even seen anyone judge her lately. But the habit remained.
“Mom?” Her oldest daughter knocked against the bathroom doorframe.
“Y-young lady, are you almost ready?”
Becca smiled.
“Yeah, almost.”
She watched her daughter fuss with her hair in the mirror.
“I was just going to say…”
“What?”
“I don’t have to have it all together today.”
“Oh.” Becca laughed.
“I was going to tell you that.” She winked at her own reflection.
“You guessed.” Her daughter smiled back at her.
A Meeting
The counselor’s office was decorated with college pennants and framed graduation pictures.
Her daughter chattered about becoming a nurse.
Or possibly getting an education degree.
She even threw veterinary medicine in there because “animals had always been her passion.”
“I just don’t know yet,” she chuckled nervously.
The counselor gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“You have time.” She said kindly.
Becca squeezed her daughter’s hand too.
By the end of the meeting, her daughter had college brochures, scholarship opportunities, and knew she had her parents’ full support.
On the walk to their car, Becca’s daughter sighed dramatically.
“That was way less intimidating than I thought it was going to be.”
“It’s not.” Becca agreed with a smile.
“No really.” Her daughter glanced over at her. “How were you so chill about the whole thing?”
Craig Receives a Text
Craig had asked how the meeting went in a text message.
Becca grinned at the memory.
She began typing.
It went great. Thanks for asking.
Then she deleted the message.
Starting over. It was fine.
Becca huffed in frustration.
Why was it so difficult to simply tell him what she felt?
She wanted to tell him everything that had happened that day.
But before she could write another word, her older self hissed,
Don’t worry about him.
Don’t be too excited.
Don’t tell him too much.
Don’t fill up too much space.
Her eyes glazed at the phone screen.
Minutes later, she locked her phone without sending a word.
Sarah Walks Over
A few hours later, Becca’s friend Sarah showed up with two iced coffees.
“I come armed with caffeine,” Sarah said with a grin.
“You’re the best.” Becca grinned back.
They sat down on the wooden porch swing.
Sarah sat in silence for a few moments while examining Becca’s face.
“Are you okay?” She asked quietly.
Becca sighed and leaned her head back against the swing.
“I did something stupid.”
Sarah’s eyebrows c****d up slightly.
“Always know that” Sarah said with a laugh.
“It’s like you were saying last week. Wait for it…”
“Whatever you did can’t be that bad if you told me.”
“It’s your own fault.” Becca giggled.
“I couldn’t reply to Craig’s text.” She explained.
“Why?” Sarah asked gently.
Becca shook her head.
“I don’t know.” She admitted.
“You do.” Sarah insisted lightly.
Her best friend studied her coffee like it was some sort of puzzle to solve.
“I started overthinking.”
“How did you overthink it?”
“I didn’t want to seem…” She paused.
Emma reached for the word, but it was stuck in her throat.
“…Too much.”
Sarah didn’t say anything for a few moments.
Finally, she asked quietly, “Who made you believe that?”
Her words punched their way through Becca’s consciousness.
She swallowed.
“I forget sometimes.” She rubbed her eyes.
Sarah leaned over and grabbed her hand.
“You don’t have to remember the moment.”
“Alright.” Becca sniffled.
Sarah gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “You just know that…”
She smiled warmly. “It’s not true.”
Replying To Craig
That night, Becca opened her phone once more.
Craig hadn’t replied to her nonexistent text.
He hadn’t sent a follow-up text asking about their day either.
And he hadn’t inquired as to why she never replied to his first text.
She took a deep breath and typed,
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you. The meeting went well. She’s excited about going to college, and I think I am too! Don’t mind me; I just got stuck in my head for a while.”
Becca stared at her phone at the message.
Her thumb hovered over the send button.
Taking a deep breath, she clicked send before she could second-guess herself.
Seconds later, her phone lit up with Craig’s response.
“I’m glad to hear it went well.”
Yet another text from Craig popped up on her screen.
“And you’re welcome for listening to you rant. 😉”
A third notification sounded.
“I love you being honest with me, even when it’s hard.”
Tears leaked down Becca’s cheeks as she continued reading.
“I never want you to feel like you can’t tell me how you’re feeling.”
The couple sat in comfortable silence on the swing porch.
“You know,” Becca sniffled into a tissue. “I almost told you I wouldn’t want to hear about my day because I got hangry and yelled at Tyler.”
Craig chuckled.
“Nope.” He kissed her forehead. “You can tell me about all of your days.”
She raised an eyebrow. “The good ones?”
“Of course!”
“What about the boring ones?” Becca asked with a smirk.
He smiled even wider.
“Those too.”
“But why?” She knew why. And he knew she knew why.
“Because the best parts of life are made up of boring days.”
The swing porch light illuminated the yard.
The almost finished chicken coop glowed beneath a blanket of stars.
Laughter from their children bounced through the cool night air.
Becca leaned her head against Craig’s shoulder.
She only meant to rest for a second.
But he didn’t pull away.
He didn’t speak.
And for the first time in her life, she knew that helping someone understand your anxiety…
Or making someone understand your depression…
Wasn’t built by avoiding the hard parts of life.
It was allowing the person you love most…
To see your struggles…
And trusting they wouldn’t run.
- Writer
