Memories II

|12| • Future Son-in-Law •

"Oh great," I sighed. "I'll try to make this quick, I promise." I got up as Brian mumbled something that sounded like okay. "Feel free to get started though." I hurried into the hall and unlocked the door before I opened it and came face to face with the two people who I had expected the least to show up at my door unannounced. "Mum... Dad... uhm... hi...?"

"Henrietta," my mother exclaimed with a smile that you could only tell was fake if you knew her well. And I did know her well. "How are you? You look great." Again... the sincerity didn't go very deep.

"I'm ... fine...," I said, still sceptical. What did they want? They weren't like normal parents. They didn't care about me - not unless they wanted something. "Why are you here?" I asked, pulling away.

"Oh we wanted to see how our little girl has been doing these past months, it's been so long since we heard of you my dear," she said in her sickeningly fake sweet way. "You should really call more often, Henrietta."

I couldn't really believe what I was hearing. But then again... they were my parents, so this was exactly the kind of thing they did. Ignore my calls and then come running after me complaining I didn't contact them often enough. Deep breaths, Henrie. "I tried calling you Christmas, you didn't bother answering or calling me back, so this is all on you. Now excuse me, this isn't a good time." Yes, I was being short, and a little rude, but I didn't want to deal with them. I wanted to spend the evening with Brian.

"Henrietta, that's no way to treat your parents," my father said sternly.

I tried hard not to roll my eyes but it was hard. I failed. "Look, I would believe this entire suddenly caring act, if you had taken my calls, called me back or somehow else contacted me in the past half year. If you actually treated me like your daughter, a daughter you're proud of, then I might consider treating you like my parents." I crossed my arms, trying to stand my ground. I hated that my relationship with my parents was horrible like this, but they were just not very nice people - not to me.

"Henrietta, that is enough," my dad tried again.

"No, it's not. Look, I don't know what I did wrong, but the way you treat me isn't the way you treat your daughter. You can be proud of me, I am doing very well, you know? I am successful in my job, I have friends, I have a very good life, I don't need you trying to guilt me into anything just because you don't approve of my choice of career."

"Henrietta, shh, we're not here to argue about your career again," my mother tried to conciliate. "We're here to congratulate you on your relationship," my mother said holding out a very familiar page of the Daily May from a few days ago.

"Oh my god," I exclaimed and ripped it out of her hands, but before I could say something else she was talking again.

"Don't think you can hide wonderful news like this from us," she said with a small smile. "Mr Roger Taylor of Queen... he was in that weird group of friends you had, didn't you? The one with that lanky weirdo and the drug-taking people.."

It took everything in my power not to slam the door shut in their faces.

"Well done, Henrietta, looks like you finally made one right choice in your life."

Did I have to have such horrible parents in order to end up with such a wonderful boyfriend? I couldn't explain this any other way. I took a deep breath. "Do you have anything nice to say for a change? Something where you don't directly or indirectly criticize everything I've done? Because if not, then we're done here because I have better things to do. I don't see why I should be ready at your beck and call if you can't even be bothered to wish me a merry Christmas." I hated these confrontations.