The Songbird's Refrain by Jillian Maria

Author:Jillian Maria
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jillian Maria

18

ALICE—THE YOUNGER Alice, from my time—stood in the doorway of a kitchen, watching a woman do dishes.

The woman had Alice’s brown hair and her button nose. I guessed who she was even before Alice addressed her. “Hey, Mom?” Alice asked, one hand wrapped around the doorframe.

Her mom glanced over her shoulder for a moment, then went back to the dishes. “Yes, hon?”

Alice shifted her weight from one foot to another, then tugged up a stocking. “Can I... tell you something?”

“Of course.” Her mom kept her back to Alice.

“It’s kind of a big deal to me,” Alice admitted.

Her mom paused for a moment, sud-covered plate in one hand. “Are you in trouble, hon?”

A nervous, high-pitched laugh bubbled out of Alice’s lips. It sent an odd wave of endearment through me. “No.”

“Oh.” Her mom went back to scrubbing. “What is it, then?”

Alice took a deep breath. The knuckles wrapped around the doorframe turned white.

“I like girls, Mom.”

“I’m sorry?” Her mother’s words didn’t come out passive-aggressive or threatening. She just sounded genuinely confused.

Silence stretched between them. Alice visibly pulled her nerve back up, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin a bit. “I’m bisexual.”

“Oh! That’s all.” Her mother glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Alright then, hon. Thanks for letting me know.” She might have been talking about a new hairstyle Alice wanted to try.

Alice’s eyes widened, her shoulders relaxing. “Really? You’re not... surprised or anything?”

Her mother shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, hon. Could you get the laundry started?”

“Sure! Sure.” Alice walked away, and while there was relief in the deep breath she drew in, her brows were knit together, her blue eyes cloudy with confusion.

I woke up in stages, becoming aware of my feather-covered limbs one by one. Poor Alice, I thought, still half-asleep.

She wore her heart on her sleeve just as much as the first Alice did, apparently. I could tell that she didn’t want to be disappointed by her mother’s reaction, but she had been, anyway. And I could understand why.

Her mom had taken it well, all things considered. She didn’t yell at her or get mad or cry. She had smiled and told her it was fine—except she didn’t say, It’s okay. I’ll love you no matter what. She said, It’s not a big deal, right after Alice said, It’s kind of a big deal to me. No wonder she felt conflicted about it. It was like her mother didn’t hear her at all.

Like her mother hardly saw her.

On the backs of my eyelids I saw my mom sitting at the kitchen table and grading papers, not even looking up when I walked in.

Even though I never came out to her or Dad, I could easily imagine them reacting in the exact same way. How would I have felt after the hours I spent imagining telling them, trying to work up the courage to do it? I probably would’ve felt just like Alice.

A rush of sympathy bordering on fondness ran through me. I wished I could talk to her.

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