What They Did

What They Did

A high pitched noise grated through the fog of sleep dispersing the dream laced with stress and deadlines.

Traci’s body returned to consciousness and she groaned.

When was the last time sleep was restful?

She fumbled around on her nightstand for her glasses and shoved them onto her face. She stared at the ceiling, a voice in the back of her mind nagging her to move. Today, of all days, was not the day to get a late start.

Buzz. Buzz-buzz.

She fumbled on the nightstand for her phone and raised it to view the notification. The name tagged on the message startled her.

Mom.

Mom? She hadn’t heard from mom since she’d cut ties. Her therapist had pushed for it and all her friends agreed. She sat up in bed, squinting at the words.

Your father is gone. He died last night. The family will be meeting at the house this afternoon 2:00.

All the air left Traci’s lungs, as though a heavy fist reached around her lungs and squeezed.

Gone.

She knew he was sick, she’d seen her mom’s messages. But they were too much to handle. So demanding and stressful. She decided against visiting the hospital.

But… gone?

She dropped the phone on her bed and ran a hand through her hair.

Gone.

She climbed out of bed and took her morning shower in a haze. She often listened to something inspirational or motivating. But she couldn’t. Her thoughts were too loud.

So silence persisted throughout her routine.

The pantry was scarce again.

She munched her oatmeal.

Why did it have to happen today? The interview with the head of her department was this morning. The promotion was coming. She had prepared everything to the final detail. Her work was flawless, her mind had fixed upon this day since she graduated college.

Her gaze stared distantly at a 35th birthday card laying on the counter.

When was the last time she spoke to him? What did she say?

They probably argued. He degraded her, saying bitter words about her job, her appearance, her relationships…

Buzz-buzz.

A reminder this time, about the meeting.

Like she was going to forget about that.

It was a cool, march day. A gusty wind blew down the sidewalk as Traci shoved her apartment key into the lock and felt it click shut.

She climbed into her car, last years model, and pulled out into the street.

“What are you doing you moron?” She shouted to a driver pulling out in front of her. She leaned against the horn, a typical morning ritual, and other honks echoed through the rows of cars.

She knew the promotion was hers. She wasn’t nervous.

But… shouldn’t she at least feel excited?

It was the news she received this morning. It was raining on her whole day.

“Gahhh, why today?” She growled, slamming the door of her car shut. It echoed through the parking garage.

Her mind ruminated on her annoyance as she entered through the front doors of the office complex. As she recognized some fellow employees she dug out a smile and tried to switch her thoughts into positive, happy thoughts.

She would shove aside her frustration and take it to the therapist later. He would affirm anything she was feeling and then she could let it go and move on.

“Traci! How are you this morning?” The receptionist asked.

“Doing fantastic.” She responded.

She entered the elevator and checked her watch. It was nearly time.

Not long after she was seated in her office, she received the invitation to her superiors office.

Entering the room she felt the adrenaline seeping into her bloodstream.

She laid out her request before the superior and made her case.

It was well crafted and beautifully stated and she knew it. When she finished she could see on her superior’s face even before he agreed and shook her hand that her dream had come true.

She stepped out of the office and did a happy dance.

Her life would turn around.

From this moment forward, she had achieved her deepest desire.

She bought herself coffee as she left the office at lunch, still reveling in the victory.

Her phone vibrated so she pulled it out of her pocket.

Are you coming?

A sister this time.

Yes.

She responded. They wouldn’t understand. None of them would.

Why did the family have to meet today?

She climbed into her car and turned on her happy music. She lowered the windows and tried to really feel the thrill of joy.

An hour later, she was nearing her parent’s house and the music was off, the windows closed, and her mood dropping steadily.

She pulled into the driveway and parked behind a sand colored mini van. She turned off the car but suddenly her limbs felt like lead. She sat, unable to move to open the door.

All the thoughts nagging her earlier that morning came rushing back. What was that feeling, guilt? She’d shut out the feelings for so long. Attributing her frustration with her parents to trauma and abuse.

They had abused her, hadn’t they? Her mom was demanding and constantly judging her choices. And Dad was going to degrade her… or her would have. He was horrible to her. She hated him. She hated him.

She rubbed her hands over her face annoyed that the coffee was doing little to lift her spirits and encourage energy.

A tap on the window caused her to look up.

It was her sister, Molly, holding a toddler.

“Are you coming in?” She smiled warmly, but there was awkwardness in her body language and her daughter stared at Traci like she was a foreign species.

Traci nodded, opening the door and climbing from the car.

Molly put an arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “Thank you for coming.”

Traci noted the redness around her sister’s eyes. She felt a disconnect from the emotion, unable to access more than frustration or apathy.

It wasn’t until they entered the house that she really felt something. And it was like a stab to the gut.

Family members sat around the kitchen. There was her younger brother, Marcus John with his arm around his wife and he was actually smiling. He spoke to her older brother, Lucas who sported a thick Carhart jacket and camouflage hat. He responded in a boisterous tone as Traci stepped inside, “You didn’t tell him because you started it and you didn’t want to get walloped.”

“I didn’t start it! Avery started it and blamed it on me.”

“Yes, but you put me up to it. I didn’t know that magnifying glasses could start a fire, you on the other hand knew better!”

“Hi.”

Traci looked down to see a girl, probably around five years old.

“Hello.”

“Are you Aunt Traci?” She asked, cocking her head and twisting her Laura Ingles style braids.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t- why do. Why is this the first time? We never saw you before.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. How did you explain to a five year old about trauma. Already she regretted coming. She always felt so different, like the only one who wasn’t blind enough to see what their parents did to them. Did the others see how they had hurt them? At least how they hurt her? She still struggled with eating and food. Her parents gave her insecurities to her because of all the horrible things spoken to her as a child.

It was their fault.

“Traci. How lovely to see you.”

She turned.

And there was mom.

She had tears in her eyes and stood a few feet away. Scared, it seemed, of coming to close.

“Hi.” Traci responded. Not knowing what else to say.

Not having anything else.

She stood and watched the family.

They talked and reminisced and Traci stewed. Didn’t they remember? They spoke about the things that wounded her so flippantly. They through jabs about sensitive people here and there. She knew who they were meant for.

Her family had always been inconsiderate.

They were called together and her mom explained how dad’s resources were being dispersed. He didn’t have a lot since they were poor and in debt most of Traci’s childhood.

Traci accepted the things willed to her without much comment.

She was surprised how much they included her and gave to her, despite her coldness and refusal to engage with previous family events. The family members were civil to her, but often their attempts at conversation died out.

Her sisters tried to talk with her but their lives were so different. What did her sisters understand about promotions and achievement? They were too busy wiping running noses and playing nursemaid.

What a life! She couldn’t imagine… A picture formed in her mind of being at home every day while her husband went to work. Taking care of busy little people… watching them grow…

Something twisted in her stomach.

It wouldn’t be long before any opportunity to create a family would be gone.

She blinked, her eyes stinging.

What… what was wrong?

Standing abruptly, she walked from the room and out onto the front porch. A light rain had started and a few droplets blew into her face.

If her dad hadn’t died, today would have been the happiest day of her life. Her family was such an unhappy reminder… obnixious reminder of horrid days. Days of pain… pain and suffering.

They were… horrid, weren’t they?

What about all the pain that she had discussed with her therapist?

It took so long… sometimes it felt like there was no healing. Her eyes stung again and she resisted allowing them to spill over.

“Traci?” Molly sounded so much like their mom these days. “I know you cared about him. Even though you didn’t come home.”

“I don’t- didn’t. I hate him. I still do.” She hissed and a tear slipped down her cheek.

Molly didn’t speak and from where she stood, Traci couldn’t see her face.

“Your life… is it better without us?”

Traci spun around, a little shocked at the bluntness of the question. Feeling indignant about… something.

“Yes. It’s better without them.”

“Mom and dad?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re happy?”

Yes.

She was happy.

Wasn’t she?

Through the window she could see her siblings and their families. Her younger brother was looking enraptured at his wife. Little ones ran around the house, their shouts and laughter filling the air with something… life.

But she chose this life. She chose this path it led to everything she ever wanted. Everything… was a promotion. A position. A job.

The weight. The cold, lonely weight of what she had spent so much of her life doing crashed down over her like icy rain.

“You can come back home.” Molly offered, recognizing something in Traci’s face but hesitant to encourage it. “You can have joy, if you forgive them. We all have. Me, your brothers… we know what they did to us. But together we decided to forgive them for the pain they caused. And when we told them-” Molly choked, tears had filled her eyes and she struggled to say the words… “He changed. They both did. And they tried to love us right and-” She breathed in a shaky breath. “He loved you. She said it so many times. He prayed for you every night, Trace. He understand why you didn’t come, but he asked every reunion and in the hospital. He’d say, ‘Where’s my beautiful baby girl?’”

Traci felt the tears stream down her face and her throat burned.

Forgive?

That wouldn’t fix everything. That wouldn’t make everything perfect.

But it was a start.

Molly stepped forward and looked her sister in the eye. “Come home, Trace. Please?”