Page 125 of Sombra
Somehow Dad hit on it with clarity. I need to tell them my truth.
My mom sips her tea and sets it down. “Honey, I’m glad to see you home. Are you going to enroll in classes here for the rest of the semester?”
“I think I’m going to take the rest of the semester off.”
“But that would put you back a year. You wouldn’t finish with everyone else.”
I shrug. “Maybe I don’t want to finish.”
Both of my parents stare at me. My dad pushesaway from the table, and my mom pales. “Why would you not want to finish? You need a college degree,” Mom says.
“Maybe. But I’ve been doing some thinking, and a business degree isn’t really what I want.”
She waves me aside with her hand. “But you’re not thinking straight. You need to finish, otherwise you’ll never get ahead. It’s better in the long run if you stick it out. It’s onlya little more than a semester.”
This is how she always treats me. This is what happens. She brushes off my wishes, my beliefs, and my thoughts, and steamrollers them with her own.
No.
More.
“Mom. You need to listen to me. This is me. Your daughter, Kim. I do not want to be a business major. I do not want to go to state school. I do not want green eggs and ham. I feellike I’m Dr. Seuss here, but I’m a grown adult, and I have the right to live my own life without your interference—”
“No one is interfering in your life, honey. We’re just giving you suggestions based on our experience—”
“Your experience, Mom. Not mine.” My eyes flash. “I’ve learned a lot of things in Spain. I want to be a chef. Not a business owner. Maybe the classes will come inhandy if I decide to open a restaurant, so I’m grateful for them, but I want to study technique, not theory. I want todo, not think about doing.”
“There’s nothing stopping you from having a hobby—” my mother interrupts.
“I don’t want this as a hobby. Being in a kitchen is my ambition, Mom. My passion. Don’t you understand? I’ve always liked it. Now that I had the opportunity touse the one in Spain, I realized I loved it.Loved it, mother.”
“That’s good, pumpkin,” my dad says.
But I’m sick of being treated like a child. “I know you’re trying to do the best thing for me. I know you love me. But you need to let me go. You need to stop stifling me. Stop meddling in my life. Let me make mistakes. Stop trying to save me from a robbery that happened almost twentyyears ago.”
My mom’s face is one of shock. “That is not what is going on—”
“Oh, yes. It is. You’ve been sheltering me and ordering me around. Telling me what I had to do. Making me do things I didn’t like for too long. Experimentation? Fine. But Mom,four years of candy striping? Ihatecandy striping. I hate the smell of disinfectant. I don’t want to be a doctor or nurse. I can’thandle it. But you made me do it for way too long.”
She whispers, “Oh, Kim. If only you could see—”
“If only you could see me! If only you could see your daughter. Me. Kim. Standing here, with crazy hair and a baby in my belly, wanting to be my own person.”
The room falls silent.
My dad shakes his head a little. Mom blinks. Before either of them can talk, I blurt out,“Yes, I’m pregnant, and no, I wasn’t stupid, and yes, I love the guy. Very much. So much that it hurts me to be away from him.”
“You’re—” Mom doesn’t recover.
“Pregnant. Yes. Baby in here.” I point at my stomach. “I had sex, Mom and Dad. I’m sorry to tell you that, but that’s how it happens.”
“You can see that this is a lot for us to process,” says Dad.
I soften. “Yes.I can. I love you guys. I just want to do something for myself for a change. And besides? You get to be grandparents.”
They stare at each other. “A grandbaby?” whispers my mom.
Nodding, I look her in the eyes. “Yes. And he’s going to have his father’s beautiful smile.”
