Short post #2 for the week! Enjoy :)
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I was out of the house by 10 the next
morning, ready for the 3 and a half hour drive down to my parents’ house. I was ready for the drive, and to be out of
Kevin’s house, but I was not ready to see my family. Needless to say, I didn’t speed on my
way. Sorry to the people behind me!
My mom didn’t waste any time. I made it about 2 steps inside when she said,
“Well, you look exhausted.”
I bit my tongue to keep from
saying, “That’s because I was getting off repeatedly until the wee hours of the
morning,” and instead just said, “It was a long drive, Mom.”
She gave me a look that clearly
meant she didn’t believe me. I sighed
and dragged my stuff to my old room.
When I opened the door, I saw that it had been repainted, had new furniture,
and had all new linens. “Mom!” I called
down the hall. “What happened to my
room?”
I heard her footsteps, then she
appeared in the doorway. “Well it’s not
really your room anymore, is it?” she asked.
Then she looked slightly horrified.
“Jenna, you’re not going to end up moving back in here, are you?”
“No, Mom!” I exclaimed,
exasperated. “Why the hell would I do
that? Especially now, after you said it
like that?”
“Well, I don’t know,” she
said. “I moved back in with my parents
after my first divorce.”
I stared at her blankly, making the
good choice to not say any of the things that popped into my head after
that. Instead I just said, “Well, you
could have warned me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind for next
time!” she replied cheerfully, turning and heading back down the hallway. I rolled my eyes at her back and got settled. I took longer than I needed to, just because
I wasn’t ready to face my mom again yet.
Once I emerged, though, she was
fine. She was her normal self, asking
about work and my friends and not bringing up my divorce. When my dad got home from work, he hugged me
and didn’t say a word about my divorce.
I liked it better that way.
The next day, we completed our
usual Christmas Eve traditions: Christmas Eve lasagna, a movie, and driving
around looking at Christmas lights. I
was disappointed with the lights this year.
It seemed like every year the displays were getting less and less
exciting. After we made our way home, we
played several games of Yahtzee and drank wine until bedtime. Not a super exciting Christmas Eve, but it’s
what we do every year, and it was nice to have something be normal.
In the morning, my dad and I made
breakfast together. While we were
cooking, he said, “You know, Jenna, if you need anything…”
“I know, Dad,” I assured him. “I don’t need anything right now. I just need to find a new place to live.”
“Do you need money? Do you need help with a down payment?” I bit my lip and shook my head. Help with a down payment could get me into a
nicer house faster, but I really, really wanted to do this on my own. I felt like I had something to prove.
“No, but thank you,” I said
firmly.
My dad regarded me carefully,
taking his eyes off the omelet he’d just flipped. “Okay, well if you change your mind, you know
where to find us.”
“Yeah,” I said, cracking a
smile. “I know where you live!” My dad laughed too, and we went back to
focusing on breakfast.
After breakfast, we opened
gifts. My parents were more generous
than usual, probably out of pity or something.
I made out pretty well, and I wasn’t mad about it. Then my mom told me my choices were clean or
get out of her way. As tempted as I was
to just get out of her way, I helped her clean while my dad got the turkey in
the oven for dinner.
“Who’s coming?” I asked, as I ran a
dust rag over the windowsill.
“Just your grandparents and Uncle
Jim,” my mom said. “Your cousin is
staying in North Carolina for Christmas this year.” My cousin Allie moved to North Carolina 4
years ago and seemed to come back for Christmas about every other year. Then she frowned at me. “Don’t forget the baseboards, Jenna Marie,”
she scolded.
“I won’t forget the baseboards,
Mother,” I replied, rolling my eyes when my back was turned. Did she think I made it through 18 years of
living with her only to forget how she liked the house cleaned?
“I know you’re rolling your eyes,”
she commented blithely.
I laughed. “Me?
I’d never.”
Now it was my mom’s turn to laugh.
“Shut up and dust the damn baseboards, Jenna,” she responded, still laughing. Just to be a pain, I finished the rest of the
dusting first while my mom rolled her eyes.
By the time it was time for me to
shower and get ready, I was anxious. I
was not looking forward to seeing my extended family and fielding questions
about my divorce. They were nosy, so I
was sure it would be the main attraction of Christmas dinner conversation. In my head, I rehearsed answers that were
vague, brief, and at least somewhat polite.
I felt fairly relaxed and prepared
by dinnertime. But I was not prepared for the first question my
grandmother asked. “Where’s Kevin?” Of all the questions I’d imagined, this was
not one of them.
“Um, what do you mean?” I
asked.
“Your husband, sweetheart. Is he here?” she repeated, looking at me like
I was crazy.
It took me several seconds to
process this, but then I looked at my mom, whose face was red. “You didn’t tell them?” I hissed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered back,
looking pained. I glared at her in
disbelief. “I didn’t know what to say to
them and then I honestly just forgot.”
“You didn’t know what to say?” I
parroted. I was pissed. But, the logical part of my brain woke up
and alerted me to the fact that 3 of my extended family members were standing
in front of us, looking very confused, so I reeled in my anger. I looked back at my grandma and said, “He’s
not here. We’re divorced. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. I don’t want to talk about it.” Then I turned on my heel and hightailed it
into the kitchen.