“I’m trying to be sensitive to all the transition she’s experienced, but sometimes she just makes me so mad, and I snap at her.”
“You’re not a robot. You’re human. Let her see that, and just apologize when you should. Move on, but let her know just because you make mistakes doesn’t mean she should be allowed to do anything she wants. You’re her mother, not a saint. All you can do is love her and try to make things right when you get them wrong.”
“I know, but it gets hard sometimes. She’s defiant and rude and mean to me and…ugh. I guess lots of parents deal with teenagers acting out, but this feels like more.”
“It probablyismore,” Dr. Abrams says. “Your family’s been through a lot, and it came during a very formative time of her life.”
“So she has a get-out-of-jail-free card for how long?” I joke. “’Cause I’m coming to the end of my patience.”
“Just keep the lines of communication open. She doesn’t get a free pass, but she should get understanding. You still have to parent her. You still have to set those limits we discussed, and when she crosses them, you still need to enforce consequences.” She pauses, canting her head. “And how is her relationship with your ex-husband?”
I lower my lashes, studying the desk at the mention of Josiah. “Um…better than mine. She barely blinked when he started dating someone.”
“Josiah’s dating?” I glance up to find Dr. Abram’s gaze sharper on my face. “How do you feel about that?”
“Fine with me,” I say, shrugging, my nonchalance belied by the pen gripped tightly between my fingers.
Her lips part, poised to probe, if I know her as well as I think I do, but she frowns down at the watch on her desk. “I have another appointment, but next time I’d like to hear more about this new phase you and Josiah are entering.”
“Of course,” I say quickly, smiling my relief. “Next time.”
She angles a knowing glance at me, her lips bending into the slightest smile. “Take care, Yasmen.”
We sign off, and I slump into my seat. Dr. Abrams has a way of digging past all my protective layers until she reaches the truth. And when it comes to how Josiah dating is affecting me, I’m not sure I want to examine the truth right now.
I stand and stretch, grabbing the watering can from beneath my desk and walking over to the fiddle-leaf fig tree in front of my window. I glance around the office, noting the plants hanging and the ones perched on the edges of my desk. We have plants everywhere in the house now. Dr. Abrams suggested growing them as an activity to help motivate me when I was at my lowest. I had my kids to take care of, and then I had my plants. I’m rubbing a waxy green leaf when my cell phone rings. I walk over and grab it from the desk, glancing at the screen to see who’s calling.
“Hey, Seem,” I say. “What do you—”
“Mom, I left it at the house,” he says in a rush, panic zipping through his words. “Can you bring it? I thought I had it, but I—”
“Kassism, slow down.” I grip the phone between my ear and my shoulder, setting the watering can on the desk. “First of all, why are you calling me and not in class?”
“We’re in between. The robot I built for my science assignment,” he says, breathing as if he just ran to school. “I left the remote at Dad’s house. Can you bring it?”
“When do you need it?”
“Now. Like right now, Mom.”
“Did you try your father?”
“Three times. It rolls right into voice mail.”
“Well, Grits is closed on Mondays, and he has that standing basketball game. His phone’s probably in his locker.”
“You have a key to his house, right? Can’t you go get it and bring it to me?”
I do have a key, and of course, I’ve been inside the house…when Byrd lived there, but I don’t want to disrespect Josiah’s space by going in when he’s not there.
“Let’s give your father a minute to reply. He always has his phone on him, so soon he’ll—”
“Mom, please. I want to test it at lunch before I have to present it in class.”
Lawd.
“Okay, Seem. I’ll try your dad one more time—”
“But—”