FADING (A novel)(43)

“Stunning,” she says and then turns to walk back out into the store.

I carry the outfit, along with a few tops and several pairs of pants, to the register and set everything on top of my mother’s selections. As the sales clerk begins to ring up our items, my mother asks, “So, did you hear about Olivia’s engagement?”

Keeping my eyes focused on our clothes, I respond, “No, I didn’t hear.”

“Yes, to William Lewis. He just partnered with his father’s law firm. And she is heading up the new division for the Children’s Foundation.”

I am trying hard to keep myself in check. I know exactly what my mother is doing, but I am determined to let it go. I know my mother wishes I were more like the Olivias of the world.

“That’s great,” I say as I grab our bags and start heading toward the exit.

“Before we leave, let’s go to Neiman’s for a little while. Maybe we can indulge in a glass of wine at Mariposa as well.”

“Sounds great, Mom.” I could really use a glass to help with the nerves that she is beginning to pinch.

While shopping through the racks, my mother continues, “I spoke with Sheila the other day, and she told me that her daughter was accepted into Columbia’s graduate program for Museum Anthropology.”

“Mom,” I say as I eye her over the rack of clothes.

Shrugging her shoulders as if she is clueless, she says, “What, dear?”

I tilt my head to the side and give her a knowing smirk.

“Fiiine,” she surrenders.

We finish up, purchasing more clothing than necessary, and go find a seat at Mariposa. Aiming to keep the focus off of me, I ask her about how the planning is coming along for the annual Christmas party at the Seattle Golf and Country Club that she heads every year. She begins to ramble on and on about it for the next hour before we decide to drive home.

?????

“Bunny!” my dad exclaims as I walk into the house. He has called me ‘Bunny’ for as long as I can remember. When he pulls me in for a hug, I inhale his familiar scent. Since I was a little girl, he has always worn the same clean-scented cologne. I oddly find comfort in that smell. Although my father and I are far from having a close relationship, we never fight like my mother and I. Even though my father won’t go against what my mother says and will always make excuses for her, I think that on some level, he might actually understand me.

“Hi, Dad,” I say with my arms wrapped around him.

When he pulls away, he takes the bags from my hands, carries them into the kitchen, and sets them on the center island. He turns to kiss my mother on her cheek and says, “So, I see you ladies had fun spending my money today.”

My mother laughs at him, and retorts, “Lots of fun, honey.”

“Well, I am sorry that I had to work so late. We had a few emergency cases come in, but I have all of tomorrow off to spend with you,” he says as he walks up to me and kisses me on my forehead. “Come on. Let’s go have a drink before heading out to dinner.” He takes my hand and leads me to the living room.

We all sit down, and I instantly become invisible as my parents begin to talk about anything and everything concerning them. I sip on my wine and tune them out as I pull out my cell and text Jase.

How’s your trip so far?

I only have to wait a minute before he responds.

Good. Mark’s family is oddly great!

LOL! What’s that like? : )

Take it you’re not having a good time.

It actually hasn’t been too bad. Went shopping with mom, all the while bragging about how great her friend’s children are doing. As if I’m slumming it at UW.

Sorry. Just a couple more days.

I really miss you. I’m so happy for you though!

Thanks. I miss you too. Text if you need me.

“Well Bunny, are you ready to go get something to eat?” my dad asks me.

Looking up at him, I grin and say, “Yeah, let me go freshen up really fast.”

I quickly shoot Jase one last text before heading up to my room.

I will. Love you!

Love you too.



?????

Dinner last night was surprisingly pleasant, although my parents continued to talk all throughout dinner as though I wasn’t even sitting there. I have learned, with them, that sometimes it is better to be invisible than not.

I am finishing getting ready for our four o’clock reservation at the club. I have been keeping to myself most of the day with a run first thing this morning and then studying in my room. No one has said anything about my avoidance, but that’s nothing new.

Wearing the dress dress that I got yesterday while shopping with my mother, I slide on the black pumps and put in a pair of pearl earrings. I take one last look in the mirror before grabbing my wool coat and going downstairs.

My parents are sitting in the library having a drink when I walk in.

“Don’t you look lovely.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I say as I stand in the doorway. “It’s almost time to go. You ready?”

“Yes,” my father says. He stands up and takes my mother’s hand before helping her up as well.

When my mother walks towards me, she doesn’t say a word, and I wonder what’s got her strung so tight. I shake it off and follow my parents out to the drive.