“What was I supposed to say?” he asked. “Wouldn’t therapy have been the best option? I mean, every time you have one of your little episodes, it seems like you want everyone to gather around and help you, but then you get mad when they do. That’s not how it works. But what am I saying, you’d probably get mad at the therapist too…”
“That’s not how I act.”
Thomas sighed. She was so delusional it was frightening. “How about the time you got strep throat? That’s just one example.”
“What about that time? Everyone gets a little cranky when they’re sick.”
Thomas shook his head and stared up at the ceiling.
“Don’t act like you’ve got me figured out,” Emily said. “You’re acting like I’m this evil bitch because I’m doing what I have to do. You don’t know what it’s like to live with Dan. He’s so fucking respectable, it drives me insane!”
“Dan’s busted his ass to provide for you and Dennis…”
“Oh, that’s typical!” Emily scoffed. “A man provides for me, so I should be his slave. I never wanted him to work the long hours he’s worked. He could cut back, and I’d be perfectly happy.”
“But would his bosses? And do you really expect me to believe that you’d be happy if Dan worked for some piddling little practice in the boonies? And you’ve never worked while you’ve been married, so how can you say—”
“Again with the patronizing horseshit!” Emily raged, pounding the sofa with her tiny fists. “Emily’s just a little housewife, so she should shut up and know her place! Barefoot in the kitchen, huh? Fuck that!”
“Don’t throw that nonsense at me! You always say you’re a feminist, but you act just like every other woman! You chose this lifestyle. You chose to marry Dan. You knew he was going to be a lawyer. You chose to have Dennis…”
“Thomas, I seem to recall you saying you’d be a neutral listener. And here you are once again berating me because I dare to live my life my way!”
“You know what, I’ve had enough,” Thomas said, standing up shakily. “I’d like you to leave. I don’t know why you came here anyway. Did you drive all the way from Raleigh, or wherever you’ve been hiding out, just to talk to me?”
“No, I didn’t come back here just to see you. There are other reasons. But I do want you to understand, but you won’t listen to me.”
“You’ve explained yourself. Like you said, you ran away with a boy, and now I guess you’re going to get divorced. What do you want me to say? Do you want my approval? My forgiveness? You don’t have either. If Dan was abusive or something, I would be behind you one hundred percent. But you just saw something that shined a little bit brighter, and you tossed aside the poor guy. And what about Dennis? We haven’t even discussed him. How is this going to affect him?”
“He’ll be fine. He doesn’t need me, or Dan, or anyone really. You should’ve seen that at Christmas, if you were paying attention. He’s already matured.” Thomas actually agreed, but he’d be damned if he admitted it openly. “And you know, Thomas, people get divorced all the time. It’s not that big of a deal…”
“Then why have you been on the run like an escaped convict? You’ve turned it into a big deal, like you turn everything related to Emily Dowling, maiden name Copeland, into a big deal.”
“OK, I agree. I need to go.” She stood up and strutted to the door, but stopped once she placed her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll say one more thing, Thomas. Maybe I should’ve led off with this. It might’ve kept you from getting so pissy.” She looked at him almost tenderly. “I actually want to apologize to you. I’ve made a lot of negative comments about you over the years. You’ve heard some of them. I thought you were a failure. You were working at a shitty little grocery store, after all, and you seemed to be sleepwalking through life. But you weren’t, were you? You had freedom. Somehow, you don’t give a shit about money and status and marriage and all of that. I wish you’d tell me how you pulled it off, how you knew what you wanted from the beginning, but I guess we’re on bad terms now and we won’t be talking. But now I’ve tasted freedom myself. Brett gave it to me way back in high school, but I’d forgotten about it. Now I’ve got it back, and I’m not letting it go — ever. What I’m trying to say is, you’ve always done what you wanted, even when we in the family didn’t back you up, and now I’m doing what I want. So, even though I know I keep repeating myself, I hope you try and understand how I feel.”
Thomas could think of numerous replies to this monologue. He could say that freedom wasn’t steamrolling over every obstacle and throwing everyone aside to get what you wanted. If Thomas wanted that to be his mantra, he would’ve cast his lot in with the budding leaders at the International Leaders of Tomorrow Conference way back in high school, and would’ve powered through college so he could obtain a lucrative degree and set up a fiefdom within some large corporation or hungry young business.
But he hadn’t done that. He’d stuck with a job he loved, with people he loved. Oxendine’s Grocery was not some dismal place where everyone either ignored or hated each other, and where managers barked at employees over frivolous infractions. Though it seemed hokey to say so, the people at Oxendine’s were his family. He doubted Emily truly understood that concept. She was convinced she was the misunderstood one at present, and wouldn’t even consider that the freedom Thomas enjoyed was very different from the freedom she claimed she’d never let go.
He could reiterate the point he’d made about his sister choosing this life. She had snagged Dan, knowing he’d eventually be making tons of money, so that she could secure herself a good life. True, Dan probably hadn’t minded being snagged by this drop-dead gorgeous woman, but a marriage contract went both ways — or it was supposed to. Now Emily was ripping it to shreds and daring anyone to stop her.
He could also reiterate how his sister’s running off into the great unknown had been self-dramatizing and immature. She had wanted everyone to worry about her, had wanted them to ponder just what sort of metamorphosis she was going through. She could contest this, but her “I sent text messages” defense was as flimsy as a piece of wet cardboard.
Then again — Thomas had had a one-night stand just last night, and he’d treated Allison terribly. He’d taken what he wanted, and then basically told the poor woman to get the hell out of his apartment; Emily had had her fill of Dan, and she’d discarded him for a new beau. If you took marriage out of the equation, what was the difference?
But Thomas tiredly pushed these nagging thoughts aside. If Emily had been truly miserable, there were better ways to fix her life than going on a scorched-earth rampage, but Thomas wasn’t going to argue with her anymore. Let his sister’s one-woman Declaration of Independence stand. She believed she was as inspiring and majestic as Lady Liberty herself, and nothing he said would dent this myth.
“Is your speech over?” he asked curtly. “Or is there more? If there is, maybe I can get you a podium and a microphone to make it look more official.”
Emily shook her head angrily and opened the door.
“We’re done, Thomas. Don’t expect to hear from me again.”