The Friendship List(16)
“I can’t believe he thinks I’m not capable of being on my own. I’m very capable. I’ve raised him. Yes, my parents helped and I’m grateful but it was mostly me taking care of him. I’m his mom. I handle things. Sure, we talk about being a team, but that’s a family thing, not an ‘I need him to survive’ thing.”
She finished in a rush, then sucked in a breath, only to realize that instead of looking sympathetic, Unity was smiling.
“You think this is funny?” Ellen asked, outraged. “It’s not funny at all. It’s awful. I love Coop with all I have and it turns out I’m holding him back.” She felt her eyes burning. “I’m making his life smaller. That’s terrible.”
Unity stunned her by giving a little wave of dismissal. “It’s not all that. Come on. Last week you were upset he wanted to go away to California to college. Now he doesn’t. Your problem is solved.”
Ellen genuinely couldn’t understand why her friend said that. She might as well have mentioned the price of grapefruit.
“This is serious,” she snapped, feeling tightness in her chest as different emotions struggled for dominance. “I know what it’s like to be trapped by a parent. My folks were great to me, but in order to live with them, after I had Cooper, I had to follow their rules. There was school and homework and taking care of him and going to my part-time job and nothing else. I never had a life and while I know they were trying to teach me a lesson, a lot of the time their actions felt vindictive and cruel. Every second of every day was spent making sure I remembered how I’d screwed up.”
She felt her temper rising. “After we graduated, you were gone. You don’t know what I went through. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have taken responsibility for my kid, but there was never a break. While I appreciate the support, I resented the hell out of them. When I finally got my teaching credential, it took me six months to save enough to move out into my own apartment. Coop and I were dirt-poor, but I didn’t care. I was finally free of them. I never want him to feel that way about me.”
Restless, she sprang to her feet and began pacing the length of the room. “I love my folks. I do, but there were times when I hated them.” She glared at Unity. “I don’t want Cooper to hate me.”
“He doesn’t.” Unity still looked amused. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“No, I’m not. Don’t you get it? My parents aren’t bad people, but for them, the rules were more important than their only child. Since they’ve moved away, I talk to them every few months and that’s it. How much of that is because of their stupid rules? They were wrong in how they treated me and I never wanted to be that person with Cooper.”
“Ellen, you’re not,” Unity told her. “Cooper’s fine. You know he is. He adores you and he’s a really good guy. Just sit down and talk to him about all this.”
“And say what? That I have life? I don’t. I figured that out in the middle of the night.” Ellen looked at her. “I have school and you and Cooper and that’s it. I don’t have any hobbies. I don’t date. God knows I haven’t had sex since I was a teenager. I resented how my parents made me live and yet here I am, seventeen years later, still following their rules. Living the life they told me to live, even though I hated it.”
Unity reached for her sandwich and took a bite. “So change.”
The casual words felt like a slap across the face.
“That’s it?” Ellen asked bitterly. “That’s your advice? Change? How is that helpful? How does that show any understanding of the problem? How would you have liked it if when you called me to tell me Stuart was gone that I had told you to get over it?”
Unity’s eyes widened. “That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it? This is a crisis and you’re sitting there smiling, telling me it will be fine. It’s not fine. It’s my son and I want him to be happy.” Her voice was rising and she honestly didn’t care. Maybe shouting would get her point across. “I want him to have a wonderful college experience and not worry about me for even one second. Why can’t you see that? Why aren’t you helping?”
Unity stood and faced her. “I’m sorry you think I’m not being supportive. That isn’t how I feel. Of course I want to help you. I just think you’re making this way bigger than it is. You’ve lost perspective.”
“What perspective do you have about anything? You’re living in your late husband’s house, sleeping in his high school bed, wearing his old clothes, wishing your life away. It’s been three years and you’re still in the same place you were when I dropped everything and flew to South Carolina to bring you home. I handled everything, Unity. Everything. You needed me and I was happy to be there when you needed me. It would be nice, if just once, you could stop thinking about yourself and realize sometimes I need you, too.”
They stared at each other. Ellen’s chest hurt. She didn’t want to be fighting. She wanted understanding and support and maybe a hug. But Unity only stared at her, wide-eyed before saying, “You really hurt my feelings.”
“You hurt mine. You’re dismissing me and what’s going on.”
“Maybe because it isn’t a big deal. Certainly nothing like losing my husband. You still have your child. You’re not in pain every single day. You’ve never lost anyone and you don’t know what it’s like. Maybe when you understand that, I’ll decide to understand you.”