For my father. You’re in my heart. Always. I love you.
Sometimes, I wonder what it would feel like to be somebody else. I have no preference who, just someone other than me. They wouldn’t have to be tall, or thin, or even beautiful. In fact, I’d rather they were ordinary, that they’d blend into a crowd because after being extraordinary, all I wish for is…silence.
“Lola? LOLA!”
A mother’s role is to protect, teach, and love their kin unconditionally. And most mothers embrace this responsibility. Some even say that having a child changed their life forever. It gave them a purpose. Unfortunately for me, my mother, Camille Van Allen, missed the memo.
Sighing, I lower the newest Dan Brown novel and remove my earbuds.
There is no questioning my mother’s beauty. Her long, chestnut hair is usually styled in a low chignon, just as she wears it now. Her large green eyes would appear alien on anyone else, but her high cheekbones, pink pout, and slim, delicate nose complement her gracious look. She’d never be seen in anything but designer threads, and although I didn’t understand it, I accepted it because I never knew my mother being anything but…perfect. And for that, I envied her because…I’m anything but perfect.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I give her my full attention.
“I said, I wish you’d reconsider and come to Europe with us for the summer. Isn’t that right, Dermott?” This is all bullshit, however.
My father peers at me through the rearview mirror, his kind blue eyes reflecting his sadness, but he nods since my mother is awaiting his reply. “Yes, that’s right, but I know given your…circumstances”—his pause reveals my circumstances can’t be swept under the rug as easily for him as it can for my mom—“why you want to do this.” Yet another pause. There seem to be a lot of those lately.
I have accepted that normality isn’t in the cards for me. I accepted it four years ago. Many days have passed since then, but unfortunately for me, a new day doesn’t bring new hope. My future is mapped out before me, and I don’t even have a say in how my story ends.
Discreetly wiping away the betrayal tears that slip from the corners of my eyes, I try my best to smile. My mother, on the other hand, is seconds away from slapping the insolence from my father’s cheek. But she says nothing.
This is a common occurrence for the Van Allen family. We don’t air our dirty laundry. We especially don’t discuss matters that would tarnish the family name. Regrettably, I’m a matter that has stained our reputation.
Peering out the window, I press my forehead to the cool glass, wishing I could feel the sunrays on my skin. Breathtaking landscapes of thunderous waterfalls, lush green forests, and untouched rocky plains pass me by. The sight is beautiful. It’s nice to get in touch with nature, seeing as my apartment on the Upper East Side encompasses the hustle and bustle that New York is famous for. Where I’m going, I’ll be lucky to get cell reception. Not that it matters because who would I call anyway? My heart aches at the thought.
The farther my dad drives, the more remote and isolated things become, but that’s the plan. That’s what I signed up for.
The GPS spits out directions, the cheerful, robotic voice the only sound filling the stale air. To the outside world, we’re the perfect all-American family, and once upon a time, we were, but behind closed doors, my family hasn’t been happy for a very long time. It saddens me to think that I’m the reason behind that sorrow.
My father raises his knowledgeable eyes, reading my heartache instantly. He feels as if he has failed me, but he hasn’t. Some people are just born unlucky.
Tall pine trees line the graveled road like regimented soldiers, never wavering from their position of keeping watch over all those who travel down this shaded path. I know we’re close; I can feel the sudden shift in the sky.
The navy Mercedes begins its journey down the winding dirt road. The sun has long gone, hidden away, and a chill passes over me, the unexpected cold an omen of things to come, maybe?
But I quash it down and welcome my arrival at Strawberry Fields with a different mindset. I’m energized and enthusiastic because this is the most valuable I’ve felt in months.
The tires crunch over the gravel as Dad drives the road with care. He takes a sharp left, and