Page 277
Story: Come Back to Me
“No, and I’ll never be what you want me to be. You don’t know me, Dad. You just want this cookie-cutter image of a daughter. You think I’ll be a great teacher when I’d be terrible. What about me screams patience when imparting knowledge to the next gen?
“Sure, it’s stable and secure, but that doesn’t feed my soul. When that happens, I get depressed.” Even more tired than I was before this conversation, I sigh. “Look, I don’t want to argue. I never want to argue. It’s mostly why I come through the day, because I know Mom will leave me alone when I’m with Nonna, but if you’re around, you’ll both dig, and I don’t want to have to justify myself. I’ll head out. I have a plane to catch later.”
He grabs my arm. “Tee, we’re not done.”
“Yes, we are. This conversation is over. You don’t have to respect my choices, but you have to shut up about them if you want me to visit! I’ve made my bed, I’m lying in it, and if I get thrown out of the Korhonens’ home, I’ll adapt because that’s what adults do.
“I know I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m focusing on what I’m best at, and along the way, I’ll find people who appreciate that and want to explore my skills.
“I’m good, Dad. You said it yourself. I went the route of least resistance, the orchestra, because I knew that was the only way you and Mom would shut up. But I hated the orchestra. It killed everything in me that was creative. I want to be left alone to create music!”
“Tee, please, baby?—”
“No. I love you, Daddy, and I know this comes from a place of love too, but what I need is for you to believe in me. Is that so much to ask?”
His sigh is soul-deep, and I know it pains him to grind out, “No, it isn’t.”
“You might not have faith in me yet, but I have enough confidence to believe in myself.” My words have him wincing—target found. But I step over to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “Have a good day at the school.”
“Pumpkin, you’ll always have a place here with us. Please, know that.”
“I do, Daddy. Thank you.”
For a second, I contemplate returning to the ranch even though it’s too early, but I stick to my plan to have breakfast with Mom and Nonna.
My mood’s dampened, the usual anxious thoughts noisier than ever, so I smooth my thumb over a citrine pebble tucked in my pocket.
Not that it pacifies my worries about Cody.
I texted him with a ‘Sure,’ but he hasn’t seen it yet.
“You’re quiet, child, but then your ears often stop working after an argument with your father.”
I bite my lip at Nonna’s comment, but Mom answers, “He worries, Tee. You’re his little girl?—”
“Are you guys sick?”
“I have that ulcer and your nonna has some health issues, but nothing too terrible for our ages,” Mom murmurs. “Why do you ask?”
Nonna tsks. “Because your husband, in his infinite wisdom, told her that he wants her settled before we depart this mortal coil, of course.”
Mom sips her espresso, but her tone’s wistful. “It would be nice.”
“Angela.” Nonna knocks her with her cane.
Mom cringes. “Fine, fine.”
I look between them. “What’s going on?”
“How was the wedding?” Mom asks brightly.
Nonna grouses, “You can tell us about that another time.Coniglio, I played your mother those songs you sent Elena Frobisher. Though it’s certainly annoying to have to listen to them via Blanche!”
I can feel my blush. “Oh?”
Another tap from Nonna’s cane has Mom reaching over to rest her hand on mine. “They’re excellent, Tee. We’ve always known you’re talented, but to think you created those songs… I may have taught you when you were a child, but my goodness.” She gives a little head shake.
“You heard my music before,” I point out, stunned by the turn in the conversation.
“Sure, it’s stable and secure, but that doesn’t feed my soul. When that happens, I get depressed.” Even more tired than I was before this conversation, I sigh. “Look, I don’t want to argue. I never want to argue. It’s mostly why I come through the day, because I know Mom will leave me alone when I’m with Nonna, but if you’re around, you’ll both dig, and I don’t want to have to justify myself. I’ll head out. I have a plane to catch later.”
He grabs my arm. “Tee, we’re not done.”
“Yes, we are. This conversation is over. You don’t have to respect my choices, but you have to shut up about them if you want me to visit! I’ve made my bed, I’m lying in it, and if I get thrown out of the Korhonens’ home, I’ll adapt because that’s what adults do.
“I know I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m focusing on what I’m best at, and along the way, I’ll find people who appreciate that and want to explore my skills.
“I’m good, Dad. You said it yourself. I went the route of least resistance, the orchestra, because I knew that was the only way you and Mom would shut up. But I hated the orchestra. It killed everything in me that was creative. I want to be left alone to create music!”
“Tee, please, baby?—”
“No. I love you, Daddy, and I know this comes from a place of love too, but what I need is for you to believe in me. Is that so much to ask?”
His sigh is soul-deep, and I know it pains him to grind out, “No, it isn’t.”
“You might not have faith in me yet, but I have enough confidence to believe in myself.” My words have him wincing—target found. But I step over to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “Have a good day at the school.”
“Pumpkin, you’ll always have a place here with us. Please, know that.”
“I do, Daddy. Thank you.”
For a second, I contemplate returning to the ranch even though it’s too early, but I stick to my plan to have breakfast with Mom and Nonna.
My mood’s dampened, the usual anxious thoughts noisier than ever, so I smooth my thumb over a citrine pebble tucked in my pocket.
Not that it pacifies my worries about Cody.
I texted him with a ‘Sure,’ but he hasn’t seen it yet.
“You’re quiet, child, but then your ears often stop working after an argument with your father.”
I bite my lip at Nonna’s comment, but Mom answers, “He worries, Tee. You’re his little girl?—”
“Are you guys sick?”
“I have that ulcer and your nonna has some health issues, but nothing too terrible for our ages,” Mom murmurs. “Why do you ask?”
Nonna tsks. “Because your husband, in his infinite wisdom, told her that he wants her settled before we depart this mortal coil, of course.”
Mom sips her espresso, but her tone’s wistful. “It would be nice.”
“Angela.” Nonna knocks her with her cane.
Mom cringes. “Fine, fine.”
I look between them. “What’s going on?”
“How was the wedding?” Mom asks brightly.
Nonna grouses, “You can tell us about that another time.Coniglio, I played your mother those songs you sent Elena Frobisher. Though it’s certainly annoying to have to listen to them via Blanche!”
I can feel my blush. “Oh?”
Another tap from Nonna’s cane has Mom reaching over to rest her hand on mine. “They’re excellent, Tee. We’ve always known you’re talented, but to think you created those songs… I may have taught you when you were a child, but my goodness.” She gives a little head shake.
“You heard my music before,” I point out, stunned by the turn in the conversation.
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