The Law of Loving Others by Axelrod Kate

Author:Axelrod, Kate [Axelrod, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Social Issues, Love & Romance, Emotions & Feelings, Family, Juvenile Fiction, Parents
ISBN: 9781595147899
Publisher: Penguin
Published: 2015-01-08T08:00:00+00:00

A little while later I went into the kitchen—I could smell something cooking, maybe garlic or onions, and heard something sizzling. My father was dicing garlic and the counter was cluttered with glass bowls filled with finely chopped vegetables: red and yellow peppers, onions, thin spirals of orange zest. On the table he’d prepared a plate with scrambled eggs and rye toast with some jam. His back was to me as he worked.

“Whoa, look at this,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“I’m making some food to bring over to the Friedmans’ tonight, so I thought I’d make you some breakfast too. Nothing special, just some eggs.”

“Thanks.” I sat down at the table, still dressed in what I’d slept in—a sweatshirt and some flannel pajama pants that my ninth grade boyfriend had given me. “What are you making?”

“Cellophane noodles and vegetables.”

“What are cellophane noodles?”

“You know, those Chinese noodles, they’re translucent and very fine. I used to make them all the time when you were a kid. With that peanut sauce you like?”

“You really need to do that right now?”

My father filled a pot with hot water and set it on the stove, added a sprinkle of salt.

“Need to? No. I just want to. What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know, it’s just feels a little weird. Like, Mom’s in the hospital and suddenly you’re on steroids or something.”

I felt shitty the instant I said it, as though I was some trope character, the sassy daughter, on a sitcom.

“You don’t need to be nasty about it, Emma. I like being busy, productive. There’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone deals with these things differently, I think you know that.”

“Sorry. Thank you for making me breakfast.” I scooped some forkfuls of egg onto my toast. “I guess I just wonder if it’s the best thing. Like maybe you could just tell the Friedmans that Mom’s in the hospital and you’re having a hard time and you don’t want to go, instead of making this nice fancy meal for them.”

“It’s not a meal, it’s one dish. And I’d like to go.”

“I guess, for me, it just feels a little weird doing normal things while she’s trapped in that place, like a zombie, you know.”

“I understand that sentiment, I really do, but I think it’s important that we do try to do normal things,” my father said. “You need to. Mom is going to be okay, she really is, and her recovery is not contingent on you staying home and keeping vigil for her. I’ve done that in the past, when you were younger, but it doesn’t work, it’s not helpful to anybody. And I think I’ve learned that this is the best way to handle things when your mother is sick.”

“Okay,” I said. “I get it, thanks.”

But I didn’t, not really. Unlike my father, this was all so new to me, and I couldn’t help but feel the sting of those words, of my own ignorance. Having both Daniel and my father urge me to act like everything was fine didn’t feel remotely helpful, and it made me feel so utterly lonely.

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