Page 40 of Dr. Do-Right
“Marija! Are you seeing these accusations about that man? It’s all over the news!”
I rolled my eyes. So far, we’d seen more traction on social media than the news. Christine’s story was only playing on entertainment channels and a few of the gossipier morning shows. I caught Sonnie’s gaze, watching as she threateningly took a breath, like she was about to shout a massivefuck youinto my phone’s speaker. I popped up from my chair, high-tailing it to my bedroom before she could properly fill her lungs.
“Mama, that woman is the stalker I told you about. Obviously, Malachi didn’t get her pregnant, then leave her.”
“And there are pictures of you in that God-awful red dress, too,” my mother rambled on without acknowledging my comment. “I’ve already gotten three calls about it, Marija. One from Melissa Peterson.”
“Oh, God, not Melissa Peterson!” I wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep, excess caffeine coursing through me, or the overall stress of everything going on, but the sarcastic exclamation popped out of me before I could regulate it. My mother’sanswering hiss was enough to make me flop backwards onto the bed, covering my eyes with my forearm.
“I don’t know what makes you think this is funny, young lady—”
“It’s not funny,” I cut her off. I’d never spoken to my mother like this before, but in for a penny, in for a pound and all that. It was always easier to handle my mom over the phone, when I didn’t have to deal with her intimidating glares and blanket disapproval.
Right now, laying on the bed I shared with Malachi, knowing my best friend was safe in the next room and there was a stalker out there trying to fuck us all up, I didn’t want to deal with herat all. “Maybe you thought I was joking last night, but I’ll reiterate that there is a stalker out there making threats against my life, and Mal’s. Forgive me if I’m more concerned with that than a thirty-second news clip.”
“And I’ll repeat whatIsaid last night, that these celebrity types always have someone coming after them. Who’s to say she’s not telling the truth?” At her casual accusation, I hissed in my own breath, but she raised her voice when I tried to correct her. “All I know is thatmy daughterhas been traipsing around with that vulgar man, and it’s unacceptable.”
“That man—”
“He and his sister both have been nothing but trouble the second you met them. Before that girl showed up, you were on the right track—”
“Ineverwanted to be a doctor. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“—and now her brother is dragging you into some scandal. Enough is enough, Marija!”
“You’re right, Mom.” My arm slid off my face and I rubbed at my eyes. I was running low on sleep and energy and fucks to give. I felt like I’d hit some sort of emotional rock bottom, whereI had nothing left. Listening to my mother disparage my favorite people in the world, mytrue family, had sucked me dry.
“Well, thank the Lord you’re seeing some sense now. Your father and I will find you a new apartment. You simply can’t be around those people anymore—”
“No.No, Mom,” I snapped louder when she didn’t stop talking. One benefit of being my mother’s daughter: I’d learned her tricks. The scathing authority in my voice made even the great Rosalia Sanchez pause. It should have felt good or vindicating, finally, to get her attention. I just felt tired.
“I meant, enough is enough with you.” I swallowed, rushing on before she could stop me. “I already got a new apartment. With Malachi. He’s not going anywhere, Mom. And Sonnie is more family to me than our actual family is. She’s not going anywhere, either.”
“I…wh….you…” I’d never heard my mother literally sputter before. Somewhere in the back of my brain, a small part of me was cheering. Most of me, though, just felt a little sad.
I wished things could have been different. I wished my parents could just see me for me, and not what they wanted me to be. That they didn’t only pay attention to me when it suited their needs or reputation. I wished I got half the support from them that I did from Sonia and Mal.
But wishes weren’t reality. “I fail to see howthat girlcan be more family to you than I am.”
“That girlheld me when I cried for days whenyoupractically disowned me just because I didn’t go to med school. Andthat vulgar manis the man I love. He’s my future, and I won’t allow you to drag him through the mud just because of some stupid news story.” I wasn’t sure how my voice could sound so strong when my pulse was going haywire. Even my breathing felt uneven, but this conversation was long overdue. I wouldn’t stop now.
“You have to be—”
“I understand this may be upsetting to you, but I’m done with constantly being burdened by your disappointments. Those are your failures, not mine. I won’t let you pin them on me or the people I love.”
Listening to her shocked inhale, I could envision her red face, veins bulging, probably perched on her favorite chaise in the sitting room.
When I was in therapy last year, Dr. Peterson told me if I ever wanted to set a boundary with my parents, I should be prepared for them to push back. For them to be defensive and pile blame at my feet.
Back then, even thinking about having this conversation had put a black pit in my stomach. Now, though, when my life was literally being threatened and I still couldn’t catch a break, I was ready for it.
The thought of living a life without having to nod and smile and show up at some fundraiser just because my parents told me to was freeing. Never having to go to another brutal family get-together, watching them fawn over my cousins just because they had a more advanced medical degree than I did? Bliss.
I was done with all that. With them. More than done.
“I will not allow my own daughter to speak to me like this.”
“That’s fine. It’s probably best if we let some time pass before we speak again.” I took a deep breath, trying to ease the tightness in my chest.
