Page 32 of See You Maybe
“My parents primarily. They don’t understand why I’ve worked so hard to get the position I was offered. Yes, it’s from a family friend, but if I hadn’t killed myself in internships and graduated top of my class, I don’t think he could have just given it to me.”
“Parental expectations can be suffocating.” He knew that better than most.
“My problem is my parents don’t have any expectations of me beyond getting married. They aren’t happy that I have different goals for myself.” She lay back and bent her knees, staring at the sky. “My mother can’t understand why I want a career. In her mind, a woman’s life begins and ends with children. And that’s great if it was what I wanted… It’s what my sister wants, and she’s extremely happy in her life. But it's not what I want.”
“Is it a religious thing?”
She huffed a laugh. “No, that at least would make sense. I suspect it has something to do with Grandma Rose, but my mom won’t talk about it.”
“Grandma Rose, who doesn’t take shit?” His lips quirked.
Rose rolled her eyes, but she turned her head to smile at him. “Yes.”
“What does Grandma Rose, have to do with all of this?”
“My grandmother was a career woman before it was cool.” Declan could hear the pride in Rose’s voice. “Her husband died young, and she had to support my mom. She started out writing copy in an advertising agency, but eventually moved up until she was an executive. She wore the best clothes and always smelled like this expensive French perfume—Wild White Rose. I found it on the internet a few years ago and ordered myself some. I thought my mom was going to cry the first time I wore it—and not because she misses her mother. I don’t wear it at home anymore.”
Declan leaned closer, inhaling. “Is that what you’ve been wearing? I’m a fan.”
Rose nodded. “I feel confident when I wear it. More like myself.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Declan rolled to face her.
“Me. I’m the problem. I think my mother embraced the whole June Cleaver thing because it’s the mom she wished she’d had growing up. She loves to tell me how lucky I am that she is so involved in my life, but what ‘involved’ means to her, feels a lot like control to me.
“My choosing a different path makes her angry, like I’m rejecting her or something. She can’t understand that it’s okay if I want something different than what she chose. I do want kids some day, but I also want a career. I think it’s worse for her because the life I want looks a lot like my Grandmother’s. My mom has never been able to accept who I am. I think part of her actually hates me for being different.”
A tear slipped free, sliding down her cheek, and she swiped at it angrily. “She may not be wrong. People don’t like different. That fear of the dark?”
Declan nodded warily, suddenly afraid of what she would say.
“The one and only time I was invited to a sleepover was in fourth grade. I was the weird, nerd girl in class with no friends. So, when one of the cool girls in my grade, Annabelle Fisher, had a birthday, I was so excited to be invited. I only found out later, from eavesdropping on my parents, that Annabelle’s mom made her invite everyone in the class.”
Rose sniffed, but her eyes had dried. “It was obvious no one wanted me there. After her parents went to sleep, Annabelle suggested we play hide and seek. She told me the best place was the closet in the basement. I went along with it when she said she’d hide there too.” Rose shivered, and Declan had the urge to hunt down a bunch of school-aged girls—even though they’d be adults now.
“Long story short, it was a trick. They shoved me in and locked the door. I didn’t get out until my mom came to get me the next day at lunch.”
Declan’s mouth fell open with horror. “Those little bitches.”
“Hence the fear of the dark.” Rose made a face. “I was convinced there were bugs on me and that I could hear voices. I’ve always had an overactive imagination. It doesn’t happen all the time. I’m not afraid of the dark… exactly… It just pops up when I’m feeling stressed or vulnerable. I’m guessing being black-out drunk in a foreign country qualified for my subconscious.”
“What happened to them… the girls? What did your parents do?”
“Nothing.” Rose sat up and began to put items back in the basket. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
Declan caught her hands. “I’m glad you are. I want to know you. I want to know everything about you.”
She stared at him, the blue of her eyes swirling with something he couldn’t identify. “Will you let me know you too?”
Declan nodded. I’ll try. “But first I want to hear what happened.”
Rose shrugged. “It’s really not that dramatic a story. Annabelle’s parents were mortified. I was teased about it and for being a nerd all through high-school, and my parents told me I should try harder to fit in so that people would like me. Making friends still isn’t something that comes easily to me.”
Declan’s chest ached. “But you won, Petal.”
She frowned.
“You won.” His voice was probably fiercer than appropriate, but he needed her to hear him. “They tried to break you and you kept going. You graduated, got your MBA, attended Oxford, and are about to start a job you are excited about, and you’re only what, twenty-five? Grandma Rose would be so proud. You didn’t take their shit, and you kept going.”