Page 124 of Unbreakable
“Well, your mother’s always happy to hear from you. Did you have a nice Christmas? I got your picture.”
My stomach twisted. Not only did she not ask if the family or the kids had a nice Christmas, but the “happy to hear from you” comment had an extra sting to it with what I was about to say.
“Um, yeah. Kids were happy. It was a real chill day. Grey’s doing better.”
“Oh, right. Good.”
How could my mom have forgotten that a week ago, my son was hospitalized?
I sucked in a breath. “Mom, I need a break from our relationship.”
The line went dead. Or at least, it sounded like it did. “What?”
I cocked my head and shook it, stretching my eyebrows. “I’ve asked you repeatedly to respect Jeanine, and to respect my choices as an adult. Every time, I’m hopeful you can be an adult and see me as one too. But you’ve proven that you’re not capable of that, and I need to spend some time apart from you.”
All I heard was frantic breathing on the other end. “Ma?”
“Did she put you up to this?” she bit.
“If you mean Jeanine, no. She’s not even here, Ma. I’m in Buffalo. She’s home with the kids.”
“And you’re telling me she had nothing to do with deciding to cut me from your life?” she blubbered. The theatrics had begun.
I expected some blowback. I had to remain calm and firm or this wouldn’t end. “This is my decision, Mom.”
“She’s never liked me—” She was preparing to launch into a rant about being the victim, which was a response I anticipated.
“Even if that’s true, there’s no excuse for you treating my wife like she doesn’t deserve me. There’s no excuse for you not caring about my children because they’re partially hers?—”
“That’s outrageous!”
“But it’s true, isn’t it? Greyson was in the hospital last week, and the first thing you ask about ismyChristmas?”
“Well, I care aboutyourhappiness,” she snapped. “Is that so wrong?”
“My happiness,” I said, willing my heart to stop thumping so hard, “is intertwined with the health and happiness of the family I chose. I’m not a single guy, Mom. I chose to marry Jeanine because I love her. We chose to have kids together because we wanted that joy. When they struggle, I struggle?—”
“And what about me? The one who gave youeverything, Dylan. You’re just going to kick me to the curb when I’m the reason you even get to live this life?”
I clamped my jaw shut. This was one of her more insane arguments. “I am your child, yes. But I am notachild. There’s a difference. You don’t get to decide how I live my life as an adult. And you don’t get to take credit for my success when I’m the one doing the work every day.”
“You givehercredit?—”
“Ma, why do you hate Jeanine so much? What is this thing you hold against her? Why do you need to control me, my life, so badly?”
“She has everything, Dylan. Everything.” Mom was fully shouting. “She got the three kids. She got the house. And she didn’t have to work for a single bit of it. She just had to glom onto you?—”
“You have used that phrase before, and I am asking you right now to never use it again. Do you understand?”
The line went silent.
“Let me get this straight: you hate Jeanine because she has what you wanted?”
And then the call dropped.
Mom had always told me she only wanted me. She raved about how I was the only child she ever needed or wanted, that she didn’t need any more kids because I was perfect.
Was there more to that story? I couldn’t know, because she hung up before I could ask. That’s the kind of call where you don’t just dial again.
