Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Mom, I’m not going with you,” Binx says, standing firm. “And I’m not taking time off from the bank. I quit.”
Oh, shit…
Apparently, she’s decided it’s time to take a stand with her mother, which I fully support, but I can’t help wishing she’d done it at a later date, when I wasn’t present. Fran is a proud woman, who thinks she knows what’s best for her children. The only thing harder than having her daughter defy her is having that defiance witnessed by a stranger.
As I could have predicted, Fran’s eyes widen and shift straight to me, accusation flaring in her gaze before she glances back to Binx. “What? You quit? Why on earth did you quit? You’re doing so well there. You’re one of their top loan officers.”
“I quit because I hated my job, Mom,” Binx says, her shoulders hitching closer to her ears.
Fran emits a startled squawk. “What? But you always looked happy when I stopped by the bank. And Albie adores you.”
“I like Albie, too,” Binx says, “and all the other people I worked with. It wasn’t the people. It was the job. I don’t want to be a loan officer. I never did.” She drags a clawed hand through her hair before adding, “Hell, I didn’t even want to go to business school. I just couldn’t think of anything I actually wanted to do that wouldn’t make you disappointed in me. But I’ve realized there’s something more important than you being disappointed in me, Mom. There’s me being disappointed in me, and that’s how I’ve felt lately. I’ve felt like a coward, too chickenshit to do what I really want with my life. But it’s my life, and I have to live it the way that feels right to me, not to anyone else.”
Fran’s jaw hangs open for a beat before she sputters, “Well, I… I never said you had to major in business. I never even said you had to go to college. When you talked about going to trade school to learn welding, I wasn’t happy about how dangerous that can be, but I was open to it. We discussed it.”
Binx shoulders lift and lower, but I don’t hear her breathe. “Yeah, I know. But I didn’t want to learn how to weld because I wanted to be a welder on a construction site, Mom. I wanted to be a welder because I wanted to scavenge scrap metal from the junkyard and make sculptures out of it like this amazing artist I was following on social media at the time.” Her fingers dig into her waist through the black thermal she put on after our shower. “But I knew if I told you that, you’d think I was insane, so business school seemed like the easier choice. I thought I’d be okay with a job I didn’t love as long as I had time to pursue my hobbies in my free time, but I’m not.”
Fran crosses her arms and shoots me another “why are you here?” look before turning back to Binx.
But I can’t go inside. I can’t leave Binx to fight this battle alone, even if I’m just here as silent moral support.
I know how hard this is for her, how long she’s wanted to stand up to her mother but felt like she couldn’t make waves. No one makes waves with Fran. She’s the matriarch of the McGuire clan and not even Barrett, the most abrasive McGuire sibling, dares to cross her. When Fran tells him to jump, he asks how high, just like the rest of them.
Seeing how Fran bullies her kids has made me even more grateful for the respectful support my mother has always given me. She makes her opinion known on everything from what I’m doing with my business to whether or not Sprout is allowed to go swimming if she hasn’t finished her reading for the day, but in the end, she respects my decisions. Even if they’re different than hers.
Fran proves, yet again, that she’s not about that respectful kind of parenting when she says, “So, what are you going to do? Just…hang around in the woods until you find yourself? Because finding yourself won’t pay the bills, Binx. And you’re not a young woman anymore.”
“I’m twenty-six, Mom,” Binx says, her cheeks flushing bright red.
“Nearly twenty-seven, in just a couple weeks,” her mother corrects. “I was married and had three children by the time I was your age. Three! The time for finding yourself is over. This is the time when you buckle down and work hard to build an adult life.”
“I have an adult life,” Binx shoots back, her tone heating, as well. “Just because it looks different than yours, doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of respect. I’m sick of everyone in this family acting like the only way to be a full-fledged grown-up is to get married and have kids. I don’t know if I even want to have biological kids. Does that mean I’m always going to be treated like a fucking child?”