Page 7 of Beautiful Noise

This woman actually laughed before she leaned back and smiled at me. “How about we start with why you’re squatting in my son’s house.”

“Are you going to call my boss?”

“Depends on what your story is?”

“I don’t have a story.”

I did actually, just not one I wanted to share.

“Everyone has a story, dear. Some are more interesting than others and from the way you were just bawling your eyes out, I’d guess you have a really interesting one and I’d love to hear it.”

“Why?”

“Sweetheart, haven’t you learned that the whys are insignificant in the grand scheme of things? Now, let’s start with your family.”

“That’s easy. I won’t be what they want me to be so they pretend I no longer exist and refuse to support me.”

“I see there’s a lot to unpack there. What’s the short version?”

I stared at her, questioning whether or not to be honest. I didn’t know this woman and when it was all said and done, she could change her mind and have me hauled off to jail. Hell, she never said she wouldn’t. For all I knew, that was her plan.

“My mother and father are both traditionalists. Very established in their prospective career fields. They both work for the school system. My father as a principal and my mother in administration. All my life, it was understood that I would have a respectable career. One that aligned with their ideals of what success looks like. They not so gently nudged me in the direction of becoming a professor.”

“And that’s not what you wanted.”

“No. I went to college, graduated with honors with a degree in English. My parents networked on my behalf to secure a TA position at my father’s alma mater and the day before I was supposed to start, I spiraled and completely fell apart. I found the courage to admit to them that being a professor is not what I wanted for my life. When they asked what I wanted, I drew a blank, which led to them criticizing me for wasting their time, efforts, and money. In my defense, how could I know what I wanted when they spent the past twenty something years telling me what my life would be? You can’t pull inspiration out of your ass on the spot that way, with no thought or consideration, after being programmed to think, feel, and believe in one way of life.”

“Interesting.”

That was all she said and I couldn’t read her mood. She wasn’t giving anything away.

“I suppose, but the more and more I thought about spending the rest of my life being my parents, the more I realized I had to figure something else out. It started with small panic attacks until they became full blown. Once, I was convinced I was having a heart attack. I just?—”

“Did what was best for you and completely shattered your parents’ dreams at the same time.”

I frowned hard. “It wasn’t about them. It was aboutme. Shouldn’t I be allowed to live my life the way I want and not how they planned for me? Every single detail was outlined bythem, including the man they wanted me to marry.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad you brought that up again. So you’re not married then?”

“Heck no. I have no direction with my life. Why would I marry someone who intended to manipulate me for his benefit?”

She smiled softly. “I’ve found it best not to assume. Just because you bailed on the life plan they laid out didn’t mean you bailed on the marriage too.”

“I wasn’t marrying a man I barely liked simply because my parents thought we made sense together, and by made sense, they meant he was a respectable guy from a good family.”

“A professor as well I assume.”

“No, a podiatrist.”

“So education and feet. That’s a unique combination. I’m sure dinner conversations about your day would have been stellar.” Her tone was mocking and teasing and I couldn’t help but smile.

Who the hell is this woman?

The more I thought about it, the more entertained I became. Maybe I was truly crazy or maybe I was just experiencing one of those temporary moments of delusion because I laughed, hard. So hard, in fact, I was crying again, but this time the tears made me feel much lighter than moments before when I felt terrified that I was going to be fired and thrown in jail.

“Education and feet are not sexy at all,” I managed to get out after my fit of laughter.

She chuckled lightly. “No, they are not. Teaching is a respectable career, as is podiatry. However, together the two are quite unappealing. After you refused to follow your parents’ plan, I assume things shifted between you.”