Page 61 of Finally Found You

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?” I respond, trying to sound casual, but the strained smile on my face doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“You have that lost-watching-the-horizon look that says, ‘I’m missing the love of my life,’” she replies with a tinge of concern.

I glance at her, unamused. “Is that even a thing?”

“Of course. You’ve had it since you came back to Colorado,” she answers, clearing her throat. “Three months ago. That reminds me, have you decided what you’re going to do with your life?”

I shrug, reaching over to grab a fistful of popcorn. “I’ll probably move to North Carolina after selling Nonna’s house. You heard the real estate agent, it’s a seller’s market, and I might be able to get rid of the place within the next few weeks.”

“Why don’t you lease the house in North Carolina and come to live with me in Seattle?”

The shrill ring of my phone interrupts us, saving me from a conversation I’m not ready to have. I grab it, glancing at the screen.

My heart stutters.

“Who is it?” JJ asks, her eyes wide.

“Kenzy,” I utter. My thumb grazes the screen, accepting the call. “Hello.”

There’s a bit of silence, then, “Hi,” a mere whisper comes over the line, fragile and unsure.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my mind racing through a dozen scenarios of what could be wrong.

“Yes. No… I mean, I guess I’m fine,” she stammers out, her words a jumbled mess of uncertainty.

“Okay,” I say, waiting for her to say something else.

“So I have some homework,” she murmurs so softly that I almost miss it. My mind stumbles to catch up, trying to make sense of her call and her tone.

“I can try and help you. I’m good with numbers. Science, not so much, but I know a few people who could give you a hand,” I offer, grasping at straws to keep her on the line.

“Thank you, but it’s not that kind of homework,” she says, and I’m somehow surprised by her calmness.

“My therapist and I have been talking about you,” she begins again after a pause, her breath hitching as if she’s gathering the courage to continue. “Dad sent me to one because I was repressing my emotions.”

“I’m glad you’re getting help,” I say. And don’t add that I’m happy she’s finally calling Lysander “Dad.” I want to ask when it happened and how things are between them, but I hold my tongue.

“Yeah, well, apparently, Nonna wasn’t doing a good job at helping us with our emotional maturity,” she adds with a hint of frustration. “I still love her, but as Dad said, she could’ve handled things differently. Like when you left for your master’s, she was mad at me all the time. All. The. Time. She blamed me because you had to leave. Do you know that?”

“I’m sorry she did that,” I say, a little taken aback by this confession.

“She did that even before you moved to North Carolina. When you left over the weekend to JJ’s house or for a party or… But it was worse once you moved out.” The words rush out of her like a torrent, and my breath hitches in my throat.

I remember too well the prickly sting of Nonna’s wrath, how it made my skin crawl and my soul yearn to disappear. It never occurred to me that maybe she would be doing the same with Kenzy.

“And in a way, I thought you chose everyone else but me,” Kenzy continues, her voice a raw wound echoing through the line. I want to say something, anything, to ease her pain, but I hold back, waiting to see where this conversation leads us. “Mom… she told me you didn’t want her to be there, that you wanted everything for yourself, including Dad. That soon you’d take off and abandon me, just like your mother did. When I saw you two kissing…”

“It’s okay, you can continue, or we can call her during our next session,” a new voice prompts from the other end. It must be her therapist guiding her through this minefield of emotions.

“I was mad, not because I thought you were going to keep him away from me, but because I thought you were choosing him instead of me,” Kenzy confesses, her timbre trembling with buried emotions. Each word she utters feels like a punch, a brutal confession of her innermost fears. “I was afraid he’d choose you over me, because everyone loves you. You’re too nice, too sweet, and too helpful. And I’m just me.”

Her words hang in the air, hurt and desperation wrapped around each one of them. It’s not the confession I expected, but it makes sense. I lived with Nonna. I saw the complexity of her emotional baggage, how it’s trickled down to my mother, Aunt Elsie, and of course Kenzy and me.

“I was afraid you’d leave me again. Or that he’d choose you. And what was I supposed to do? I didn’t even have Nonna anymore. And then I was afraid I would end up with my mom, and she already said she didn’t want me, and I thought she’d treat me just like her mom did her, and us.”

Silence settles over us. I can hear her unsteady breath on the other side of the line, the weight of her confession hanging between us. Memories of my own struggle with Nonna. My theory that my mother died of an overdose because she rebelled against her mother… The emotional instability of my past flickers at the edges of my mind, a grim reminder of our generational trauma.

“Your feelings are valid, Kenzy,” I finally say, my voice steady, even when the hand holding the phone trembles. The relief of her acknowledging her emotions floods over me. “But I need you to remember that I’ll always choose you. When I left for North Carolina, it was because a master’s degree would help me get a better job. I needed to help Nonna with the expenses. Staying there made sense. I had a high-paying job with low expenses. It’s because I wanted you to have a better life. I was saving for your college tuition, in case you couldn’t get a scholarship. I did it because I love you.”

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