Act Your Age, Eve Brown (The Brown Sisters #3) - Talia Hibbert Page 0,113
you behaved horribly.”
“Now, sweetheart,” Dad began.
“As did you. You’re just as bad as each other!”
Dad shut his mouth with an astonished click.
“I appreciate that I’ve handled some things poorly, recently,” Eve said, swallowing as she considered her next words. “Up to and including running off to another county because I was upset about being told off. You were absolutely right to take me to task, because I’ve been letting childish fear limit me for far too long, and it wasn’t fair to myself or to you.”
Eve’s parents looked equal parts bewildered and relieved, as if these were the words they’d longed to hear but had never expected to. That, more than anything, spurred her on. Clearly, Eve had spent more than enough of her twenties avoiding responsibility—but that ended now. It ended today. Which meant expressing herself fully, being open and honest, being the best person she could hope to be for herself and for the people she loved. The people who loved her.
“The thing is,” she continued, “there was no need for what happened at Castell Cottage. It’s not as if I completely disappeared. I remained in contact with my sisters, and I’m an adult woman with a brown belt in karate.”
From the corner of the kitchen, she heard Zaf murmur, “Er . . . she’s a what?”
Eve plowed on. “Your worries for me were valid, but instead of expressing them, you skipped straight to—to DEFCON Five.”
“Actually,” Chloe interjected, “DEFCON One is the—”
“Shut up, Chloe! This applies to you, too, by the way. And you, Dan. I appreciate you all being worried for my welfare. But couldn’t you have asked me about the situation before you all showed up and created a scene at my place of employment? Couldn’t one of you have said, Hey, Eve, we have some questions and concerns about X, Y, and Z, so we’d like to come visit? Or did none of you believe I’d respond in a reasonable, adult manner? That I’d understand, and give you the information you needed to feel comfortable?” Eve waited for a moment, her jaw tight.
No one spoke, though Mum had the grace to look ashamed. Dad shuffled uncomfortably, too—as well he might, since Mum never did anything they hadn’t both agreed upon, and for all his quietness, Dad enjoyed and strongly endorsed his wife’s frequent bouts of bonkersness.
Focusing on her parents, she said, “If you want me to behave like an adult, you need to give me the space to do so. Instead, you treated me like a child. I got a job,” Eve went on, “for myself. A job I was committed to, and that I—that I loved—” Oh dear, her voice was wobbling. Stop thinking about Jacob. Stop it! She cleared her throat and continued. “I did exactly as you asked. But you interfered in a manner that damaged my—my chosen career.”
Dad, looking oddly pleased, interjected. “Career, is it?”
Eve desperately wanted to say yes, which gave her a flash of habitual anxiety. Sometimes (all right, fine: often) she felt as if wanting things too badly meant dooming herself to fail. But she wanted Jacob more than anything, and they couldn’t be doomed. So she refused to accept that feeling any longer. Refused to even consider it.
She’d lived in fear of failure for far too long.
“Yes,” she said after a moment. “Yes. My career.” Cooking to start people’s mornings off right, taking care of the little touches that made a house feel like a home, chatting with different guests every day and feeling as if charm could be meaningful rather than a glittering waste of time. That was her career, or it would be soon. Eve knew what she wanted, and she wasn’t afraid of it.
“I will always be grateful for the things you’ve done for me,” she told her parents quietly. “For the privileges and safety nets you’ve afforded me, for the ways you’ve supported me when I didn’t know who I was, even for pushing me to get a grip and make a change. I’m trying my best to make you proud, and I always will. But I’m never going to be like everyone else. I’m not even going to be like the rest of this family, as much as I love you all. I’m a different person and I need different things and I work in a different way, and that’s okay.”
It occurred to Eve that this would be a convenient time to mention her recent discovery vis-à-vis autism, et cetera, but she