Page 8 of Rootbound
“Umm, sure. Yeah.” Why the hell not.
“Wonderful. Contract and details coming your way.”
Against my better judgment, I am now invested…
Four
Tait
Explaining to Ava that I was jetting off to Idaho for a couple of months at dear old Dad’s went both better—and worse—than I anticipated. I expected her to be on my side at least a bit—to be pissed and frustrated, or even nervous for me. I would have expected her to feel a little betrayed, perhaps, that I was breaking the unspoken agreement to still not allow him back into our lives after Mom’s death… but, after breaking it down to her, she laughs.
“You’re lucky school already started, otherwise I would be taking off with you. I would pay good money to watch this.”
“What? Why?” My sister is a brilliant calculus teacher, has a notoriously good memory, and is what I imagine folks consider a traditional genius. However, her deep love for both trashy reality TVandLifetime/horror movies makes me inherently suspicious of anything she would “pay money to watch.”
“I just—would. Dad is, well, I’m not entirely sure he actually wants a relationship with us,” she says. “I think he tries, but maybe just out of guilt? He and I have found our little comfort zone, but that’s because we have Jack to use as our buffer. And that’s all through letters. He will not know how to even start with you. And you… you have always managed to make every new surrounding look like it feels like home, and people always love how much youwantto capture the whole essence of a place. Part of your charm, and what makes people welcome you, is how complimentary you are. I cannot imagine you going to our once family home and acting like it’s nothing to you, yet still needing to poke around the place. You’re going to have to be polite despite yourself so that they don’t suspect you of wanting any claim to it, you know… It’s the one place and group of people you won’t bring yourself to charm to death, but you’ll have to toe the line and not be a complete bitch, either.…”
I scoff, but she tramples on with a laugh.
“They’ll latch right on to any angry vibe and close you off, fast. I can just see your whole ‘I don’t even watch the show and I don’t even want to be here’ act now. And Dad’s reaction when he sees that it’s you—oh my god, I bet he has no idea what you even look like! I’ve sent him pictures of us, but mostly Jack—never you.”
“Well, your sense of humor skews a little fucked, per usual. And trust me, I’m just as aware of how easily they close people off.”
She sighs impatiently, letting me know I’m in for a lecture.
“Tait, listen. I’ve been wanting to have this conversation with you for a while. And I don’t mean to come at you hard like this, again, but… you are constipated.”
“Excuse me? I’m quite regular, thank you.”
“No, you are dealing with some majoremotionalconstipation. It’s like you’ve clenched too long and turned it off or something. And, trust me, I love that you come and stay with Jack as often as you do, and I love you as a friend and a sister, but I worry that you’re really out of touch, or that you’re just not all the way processed or something.”Because I don’t have a life of my own.I hear the implication in the unsaid words.
“Ave—” God, I don’t want to do this right now…
She continues before I can cut her off, though. “Remember when Jack went through that phase where he got scared of having to sit on toilets to poop? After falling in at the really loud movie theater one? He’s barely touched it, but the shock of the water plus the loud flush traumatized him… and he absolutely hated having to sit on the toilet after that. He held it so long that he developed encopresis, Tait! He has been fully potty trained for over a year now, and he still has full-blown little boy shit-splosions. The doctor said that the nerve damage done means he could continue having accidents for a fewyears.All that potty training work, and this genius, sweet little boy is still having sharts that are painfully embarrassing for him. If you don’tfeelagain, and actually take care of your emotional business, it won’t just go away. The same thing is going to happen to you. You’re going to shit your pants… emotionally.”
Thirty seconds pass before I can respond to that, and even then all I muster is, “Wow.”
“Shit doesn’t just go away, sister. It must pass!”
“Wow.”
“Alright, Owen Wilson, my analogies aren’t the most eloquent, but this is what motherhood has done to me.”
Then, the thought occurs to me. “Oh my god, Ave, you’reright,he has no idea what I look like!”
“Huh? Oh, Charlie, you mean? Tait, he’s still going to know that it’s you.”
“How?Howwould he know, though? Really? The amount of people that go there now to do, like, set photography for the show alone—just the sheer amount of outsiders that roll through there now has to be huge. They have an actual guest ranch that people rent out to stay at. I bet none of the family themselves even pay attention to names that come across their list. They’re probably just vaguely aware that someone from Deacon publishing is coming!”
“That’s a lot of ‘probablys’ and, Tait, I didn’t mean any of that. I think this would begoodfor you. Mom is not alive. You are not being disloyal to her. You don’t owe anyone anything—Jesus, we didn’t owe it to her when she was alive, either! I really think it is ok to reestablish this connection.”
“No Ave, I think you just made things way less complicated for me. I’m going to just give myself another name and he’ll never even realize it’s me.” I decide to brush past that last part about connections. I have all that I need in her, Casey, and Jack. I’ll—I’ll get a dog, for real this time, when I get back, or something, too. Maybe I’ll agree to a blind date to really appease her.
“Tait, oh my god, come on—”
“Gotta pack… I love you. Kiss Jack extra for me ok? Tell him he’s not allowed to learn anything new until I get home.”
“T… crap. Okay. I love you, too.”