of the moments I dreaded having two daughters. Excellent.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, Dad.”
“You don’t need a pep talk from me.” Dad drinks more milkshake. “It may surprise you to know, then, that Uncle Steve is representing Julian. Pro bono.”
I throw my hands in the air. “Perfect. Why don’t we make this a family affair?”
“Rena told me what happened. It was the least we could do.” Dad wipes an invisible crumb off his jeans. “I have eyes, you know. And dads are like guard dogs around their girls. So, I’ve been watching every single guy who has come on your radar since you were born.”
“Okay, but I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”
“Julian has been interested in you since you were little. You couldn’t keep him away.”
“So?”
“So, that means something, Jenna. You shouldn’t discount a person’s feelings because of a foolish mistake.”
“It may surprise you to know that you don’t get a vote in who I am friends with or date or—”
Dad continues as if I hadn’t just stood up to him. “Julian? I like him. He’s got to learn to control that temper, but I don’t blame him for his actions. It shows he cares about you, and I like that.”
“Maybe it shows that he’s embarrassed of me.”
“Ahhh… How convenient. This leads us into our next conversation.”
The small bit of mocha shake I’ve ingested turns in my stomach. “Mom?”
“Yes. Eventually. But first, you. Do you know how beautiful you were when you were born?”
“Dad.”
“You were this tiny little warrior baby. Like Wonder Woman.”
“Dad…”
“We were terrified about how you came into this world. And…” Dad’s voice breaks. “Then, when we found out you had cerebral palsy, your mother was so worried.”
“But not you?”
“No. I saw in your eyes how fierce you were.”
I take a sip of shake, trying to act like none of this is getting to me.
“Your mom made a terrible mistake, no question. And the thing is, we will never know if that’s what caused your condition. But as far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter.”
“Because she’s had to live with this my whole life? And because she’s a wonderful mother?”
“Yes. Those things, too. But also, because you are now and have always been the Jenna you were supposed to be. Until you got mad. You’ve had your own temper tantrum for the last few months, and you’re way smarter than that. So, I’m deciding right here, right now, that you are going to fix this. You are going to remember who you are inside. My sweet, beautiful, and incredibly kind daughter. Not to mention brilliant. And you are going to apologize to your mother. You are going to rip up that ridiculous agreement you forced Uncle Steve to write for you. If you want more control over your medical decisions, fine. You’ve got it, but not because you served us with legal papers.”
“Is that all?” I ask.
“One more thing. You are going to assess your life and your behavior. And you are going to change.”
“You’re pretty sure of yourself.”
“Yes. I am. But more than that, I’m sure of you. I love you, Jenna Cohen. Get a good night’s sleep.” He leans forward, kisses me on the forehead, and walks out.
People have been doing that a lot lately. The walking-out part.
And you know what? I kind of deserve it.
Thirty
I spend the next hour trying to construct an email that makes sense and conveys everything I need to say to Mom. It takes me an inordinate number of tries, but I guess that’s because it’s a really hard subject, and I’ve got to dig super deep to get at all of the reasons I acted the way I did.
Here’s what I come up with:
Dear Mom,
I owe you a huge apology after how I acted. Really how I’ve been acting for the past year. I should have come to you when I found out about the lawsuit and not jumped to conclusions about my condition. The thing is, when I saw that lawsuit, I was so angry. It’s like all the feelings I’d pushed down or pushed away about how hard things are for me sometimes, all bubbled up and exploded.
I stopped trying in classes. I stopped being Dad’s tough little girl. I just wanted to give up on myself. Maybe everyone feels that way in high school? And maybe a small part of me felt like it before and just didn’t want to admit it. I believed in silly things like magic and saints and the