Saugatuck Summer (Saugatuck, #1)(99)

Strangely, the relationship that improved the most was with my aunt and uncle. I won’t say I don’t still have moments when I resent the f*ck out of the things they did to me when I was a teenager. Brendan was right. They were abusive at times while I was growing up. Maybe not constantly or catastrophically so on the great scale of things, but they were. They simply were. I can admit that now without cognitive dissonance making my emotions go haywire and throwing me into a fit of anxiety (did I mention I was in therapy again?).

The cognitive dissonance came in when I tried to cope with the fact that, while they were abusive, they’re also, on the whole, good people. Good people with moments of horrifically bad judgment and anger and reactions, perhaps, but still. Once I realized they had recognized me as an adult and an equal, I didn’t have to hate and be afraid of them anymore. They had no more power over me, and they could never hurt me again.

Does that mean they don’t sometimes disapprove of my choices and try to nudge me to their (always, always, always inarguably correct, of course) way of living? Nah. And does it mean I don’t still sometimes have moments of bitterness and resentment over the past? Of course not. But we’ve reached an armistice I can live with, without letting them make me unhealthy.

It’s amusing to watch them try to figure out what to make of Jace, because his behavior doesn’t match the assumptions they made when they saw his appearance. He throws all their assertions over the impracticality of frivolous pursuits like art and music—as well as the destructiveness of nonconforming behaviors such as, say, sporting multiple facial piercings and sheets of tattoos from the neck down—right out the window. Oddly enough, they seem to respect him more for that.

Brendan and Adele are getting divorced. Apparently after a few months of separation and some deliberation, Brendan decided he needed to explore the same-sex half of his bisexuality. I feel terrible for Adele, of course, but I’m actually a little proud of Brendan, both for having the courage to face up to who he truly is, and also for not using being bisexual as an excuse to cat around on his wife (well, his affair with me notwithstanding).

Now he’s seeing a grad student from another department at Michigan State, and according to Mo, the whole thing smacks of a midlife crisis. As in, “Dad’s having a midlife crisis; his name is Thom.” Thom the Grad Student has Brendan acting like he’s twenty-five again. New haircut, new wardrobe, new car. Hopefully Brendan will get his head right again before he loses everything.

And yes, if you’re wondering, this does mean Mo is speaking to me. It actually took her months to do so after my mom’s funeral. We’d see each other on campus once in a while, but we’d only nod and smile politely. I stuck by my resolution to let her determine if and how and when we started patching things up. Finally, the week before Thanksgiving, just as I was sitting on my hands to avoid texting her to wish her a happy twenty-third birthday, she sent me one instead.

I have to admit, girlfriend, I didn’t think you’d be able to resist sending me a message for my birthday.

I smiled and immediately replied.

I almost didn’t, but then I figured Cody the Archer was probably down from Big Rapids giving you all the birthday greetings you could possibly need. With his penis.

It took her a while to respond. He was for a bit, but he’s got an early class in the a.m.

Then another message: Thanks for not pushing me.

I hugged my phone to my chest because I couldn’t hug her.

Anytime. Anything you need.

Another long pause, which left me wondering if she was working or studying or what.

I’ll be in Ann Arbor all winter break. Can we meet for coffee in January?

Okay, yeah, I cried then. I’m a big, blubbery baby. Like this is news.

Sure. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.

We made an infrequent habit of those meetings, which became steadily more frequent through spring and into summer. We’re still not back to where we were, but she doesn’t despise me and that’s about the best I can reasonably hope for. And now she’s graduated, so the coffee meetings have ended. She’ll be counseling at the summer camp in Traverse City again, and then she’s moving in with Cody in Big Rapids as he does his post-grad work. It’s entirely possible that once that happens, we’ll drift apart entirely, except for the occasional tweet and Facebook poke. We’ll have to see.

Jace is . . . God, where do I even begin? It’s almost as though he’s taken it upon himself to make up for all the support and opportunity my family never gave me. Like he has something to prove. I’ve told him it’s not necessary and he needs to relax a little. Sometimes it makes me uncomfortable because, honestly, one man cannot possibly give enough love and attention to compensate for two decades’ worth of neglect and abuse.

And he shouldn’t have to. I certainly don’t expect him to. I’m not Colleen, who insists the world owes her something for her shitty childhood. I just need him to be Jace, my sometimes judgmental yet incredibly sensitive, insightful, and sexy boyfriend. He needs to hold something back for taking care of himself, especially since it wasn’t like his own upbringing fulfilled his every need. But maybe that was why he does it. Maybe giving me some of what he was denied fills the void left over from what his family did to him.

My biggest worry in our relationship right now is that he’s going to burn himself out or start to resent how much he puts into the relationship if he keeps trying to do that. I admit, at least a little of this comes from the critical voices of my past telling me I never carry my weight, never give enough, that I’m never grateful enough. I worry that sooner or later, he’ll feel things are imbalanced and that he isn’t getting as much as he gives, and then where will we be?