More Than Enough (A Completed Novella)

CHAPTER 8

Ellen had procrastinated all week. It was wrong, and she hated the way Henry just...didn't say anything about it. Was all sweet and awkward and perfect. Meanwhile, he wanted her to tell her parents about them. She hated everything about this.

Except Henry.

Sitting in her parents' living room while Mom decorated the Christmas tree, she should be smiling about happy Christmas memories. Instead, she was smiling because of Henry.

A week with Henry had been very nice indeed. Even if it was silly, she was going to miss him when he went to spend Christmas weekend with his dad in Des Moines.

Also silly she kept putting off telling her parents about him.

"Oh, Steve, remember the Christmas we got Ken his first bike?" Mom said, hanging a bike ornament on the tree. "He was so excited." Mom's eyes filled with tears. "It's still in the basement. I thought..."

"Remember the Christmas we went to Alaska?" Ellen asked, trying to deflect the topic. "That was so cool. We should do another trip like that. Those cruises are great."

But Mom just made a little noise and turned away, and Dad didn't say anything, and Ellen...Ellen felt like she didn't exist.

"I'm in love with Henry," she said into the silence of the room. She'd meant to ease them into it, find some calm way of explaining, but she was so desperate to make herself exist to them, it burst out.

Both of her parents stood perfectly still. Frozen. As if the words had broken the space and time continuum.

"Who's Henry?" Mom finally said.

"You know who Henry is."

"No. No, I do not know who Henry is because the only Henry I know is responsible for the death of your brother, and no daughter of mine would be so cruel and awful to love that monster." Mom wasn't looking at her, and Dad sat there as if he wasn't even present.

"He's not a monster. He's a man." She wanted them to see, not for her—but for themselves. So they could move on. Just a little. "And at the time he was a boy, and so was Ken. Careless, irresponsible boys."

Mom whirled around to face her. "You will not say that about my son."

"He wasn't perfect or a saint. He made a mistake, and he paid for it."

"They shouldn't have let him drive!" This time Mom threw the ornament in her hand, and it crashed to the floor.

Dad still didn't move, and Ellen wanted to back down, but...this was wrong. Running away hadn't solved anything, so it was time to go head-on. No matter how upset Mom was, no matter how detached Dad was.

"Maybe you shouldn't have let him go to that party. Maybe I should have made him play Nintendo with me like he'd promised that morning. There are a million maybes, a million ways to find blame, and the fact you took money from Henry as some sort of penance for that blame is shameful."

"No. I refuse to accept this." Mom shook her head so vigorously it had to hurt. "I refuse to discuss it."

"That doesn't change it, Mom," Ellen said quietly. "You can't pretend me away. I exist. I'm here. All I ever wanted was for you to love me. To pay attention to me. To care. But everything you have is wrapped up in your son dying, so your daughter doesn't matter. Well, I don't want to pretend that's okay anymore. I'm going to be with someone who doesn't treat me that way, even if it hurts you. Because I am done hurting over things I can control. There's enough hurt with the things I can't."

"Of course we love you, Ellen. Don't be foolish. Choosing someone who was responsible for Ken's death over your own parents is its own kind of tragedy." Dad's voice was almost bored.