“I cannotunderstand it and still be supportive of it,” I admit stiffly. Gesturing around the Pinterest-perfect mansion, I say, “God knows you don’tneedto work anymore. Not with Dad doing as well as he is.”
She looks around the kitchen and open floor plan living room, as if seeing it for the first time. By some definitions, my parents might be considered rich, not wanting for anything and perfectly comfortable in their lifestyle, which means Mom never had to go back to work after my older brother and I were born. Instead, she took over the kid and house chores and is now content to live the happy life of a retiree, reading books and having lunch dates with her girlfriends.
I don’t understand it.
“I like my life,” she says honestly. “I like taking care of your father, and I like being a housewife. That’s all there is to it.” I must still look baffled because she sighs as she goes back to chopping the vegetables. “Oh, honey. I know you don’t understand how someone wouldn’t want to work or travel everywhere or have a bunch of hobbies, but believe me, I was busy enough for two lifetimes when I worked as a doctor. I loved my job, but it’s okay to want an easier life, too.”
I wince and reach for the plate of carrots that still needs to be peeled. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m not judging, I promise. And I’m sure I’ll understand one day. Just… maybe not today.”
She shines the kind of love-filled smile that only a mom could give. “I know, sweetheart. Believe it or not, I was just as full of life at your age as you are. I thrived on hard work, I loved being busy outside of it, and I rarely ever said no to things. I wanted to try to do everything.”
She gives me a tentative look, and I know before she even continues what she’s going to say—and why she’s approaching it gently.
“The only thing I’ve never understood is your aversion to including dating into that mix,” she says softly.
I tense at the subject change, then force myself to roll my eyes in an effort to move on from this particular topic. “I’m twenty-three, Mom. I’m hardly at the age where I start feeling desperate to settle down.”
Ignoring my silent cue, she continues on. “It’s not aboutneedingto settle down. Relationships can be just as exciting as everything else that you do—they might even make your lifemoreexciting, having a partner to do it with.” She hesitates again. “I know the Matt breakup was hard, but it’s not like he tried to change you or—”
“I don’t want to talk about Matt,” I snap, sharper than intended. But the last thing I need is my mom telling me what she does ordoesn’tknow about the one relationship I ever had, the one that made me swear off meaningful friendships and relationships equally. Because hedidtry to change me, and hedidinspire my view on dating.
But nobody knows that. And nobody needs to, because I never want to get that close to another person again.
Mom winces at my tone, and I immediately regret snapping at her. I know she’s just trying to understand.
“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “I just…reallydon’t have an interest in dating right now. I’ve got too much going on with work, and I’d much rather focus all of my energy on that rather than a guy that doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life. I can’t relate to that.
She smiles at me, though it’s a little sad this time. “I understand. Your passion is one of the things your father and I love most about you.”
“What do we love about our darling daughter?” I hear from behind me, the tone just as love-filled as my mom’s smile was.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, forcing the tension from my shoulders and standing up to give my dad a hug.
“Hi, Danielle,” he says warmly.
Hearing the name that only my dad calls me brings a smile to my face, and I squeeze him a little tighter for it.
“So what are we blowing smoke up our daughter’s ass about now?” he asks Mom, rounding the kitchen counter to press a kiss to her cheek. And just as it always does, the minor gesture brings a pink flush to her skin, the love shining so brightly in her eyes that at first glance anyone would think they’re newlyweds. Not that they’ve been married for almost thirty years.
“I was just telling her that her passion for life is one of the things we’re the proudest of,” my mom replies, returning her attention to the cutting board.
“Did you doubt that?” my dad asks in confusion. “I would’ve thought we make that abundantly clear. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood is sick of hearing me brag about you.” He perks up when something occurs to him, his energy immediately taking on a bragging quality. “My fearless daughter, fighting against the status quo and always looking for the next adventure. Andespeciallyafter that article that just came out about the protests at the Lincoln Memorial. Honey, those pictures wereincredible.I have them plastered all over my office.Easily some of the best work you’ve ever done.”
Any concern I had over my parents not approving of my adventurous lifestyle immediately dissipates at the sound of my dad loving thatI’mpassionate about the things I love. I worked damn hard to get those pictures, threw myself right into the middle of those protests, and then spent days editing them to make sure they were perfect. My work as a photojournalist is important, and it can be risky, so I take pride in the work that I do. Being admired for it is the biggest compliment I could ever receive.
“Thanks, Dad,” I reply with a smile, returning to the carrots in front of me. “I heard a rumor that there might be another one planned in a few weeks, so I’m hoping Larry sends me back for that one, too. It obviously helps that I’m single without anything tying me down and can travel anywhere at the drop of a hat.”
“Take advantage of that while it’s still true,” Dad says with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to my hair. “It won’t be long before someone scoops you up.”
Suddenly, a certain blonde-haired boy flashes through my mind at that mention.
I force the thought away as quickly as it appeared.
Turning back to the carrots on the cutting board in front of me, I ask instead, “Going back to the topic of work. How’s it going, Dad? How’s business?”
He lets out a heavy sigh that would sound tired if I didn’t know how much he values work-life balance. “Busy. I’m turning clients away left and right nowadays, just because I don’t have the capacity to take on so many cases.”
“Why not hire more lawyers?” I ask, lifting my head to give him a look of confusion. “Your firm could probably be so much bigger than it is. Your name is already huge from the work you did back in New York. I bet it would be so easy to grow the firm with more people and more cases. What about that woman Annie that you said was really good? Couldn’t she run another branch in New York?”