Chapter Text
Katie was curious about their new neighbor. He seemed a bit sad and lonely, and anytime she looked him in the eyes in front of the duplex, he’d quickly look the other way and usually even walk in the other direction or back into his apartment. Her mom Candace told her that some adults, especially adult men, just don’t feel comfortable around kids, so she shouldn’t take it personally. It had been 5 days in the new apartment and she’d seen him only a handful of times, each time the same. “It does feel personal” she’d think, and then she’d wonder why? Maybe the neighbor was a little like her dad. Like him, he was tall, probably the same age or maybe a little younger, slightly out of shape with a thick stomach, a short-cropped beard, freckles, and sandy hair. But there was more than just the way he looked, it was how he looked at her too.
Her dad was never close to her. She felt like he never thought of her much, or if he did, he was usually annoyed by her. It’d already been a year since she last saw him, visited his house upstate, met his new wife, and played with her 2 year old stepsister. She felt invisible that entire time, and the moment she got back home she asked her mom if she had to go back there ever again. She remembered her mom’s words clearly, “Katie, I don’t want to make you feel any which way about your dad, but I’ll only say that I understand. I felt pretty invisible too.” Her mom explained to her that it wasn’t her fault, nor was it about who she was, but that her dad was like that with everyone. Candace easily retained full custody of Katie when she was only 6 years old, meaning there was no requirement for Katie to see her dad at all. This explanation gave her relief and filled her with sadness at the same time. Why couldn’t her dad just be different than he is, couldn’t he just see her and like who she is? It was an incredibly difficult thing for her to wrap her brain around. How can a parent not see value in their own children?
The neighbor, in all his avoidance sort of triggered this feeling in her again. Not being seen, not being liked. It angered her a little to make this connection. It felt silly, and pointless. She had already been down this road, understood that her and her mom were enough, didn’t need anybody else to show her they care for her or even love her. Her mom more than made up for any loss from her dad. All this thinking began to ease her. It felt better to make the connection, and then to just let it go.
The move had been easy, but it put Katie in a new middle school, and that was decidedly not easy. Each day was an exercise in perseverance in the face of increasing cruelty. Her friends since grade school still group-emailed, refusing to leave out Katie from all the details of their plans and adventures. She was grateful for the connection, but also annoyed by not being able to truly partake. The kids at the new school either ignored her entirely, or flashed her searing looks that made her feel worthless. It was horrible. The pattern was the same every day; wake up, walk to school, go to classes, walk home, practice the ukulele, eat dinner with mom, wash up, finish school work, go to bed. The weekends were only slightly different, allowing for some time for her and her mom to run errands together, stop at her new favorite bookstore, and at the end, have dinner out together.
It was her and her mom’s third Saturday in the new apartment, and they went to a Thai restaurant only blocks away. This was something that could make things better, even if for only a moment. Dinner with her mom was a time to decompress the week, but also to taste delicious things. Food, good food, was something her mom had started introducing to her early, and the effect it had on her was pure joy. The distraction of flavorful foods was enough to put aside any worry, for at least the moment and sometimes even for a day or two after.
This night, this particular Thai food was no exception. She delicately lifted bites of strong, spicy noodles, meats, and vegetables to her mouth, savoring each bite with her eyes closed. Her mom ate in almost the same way. Between bites, Katie and her mom would discuss all sorts of things; school, plans for break, her anxiety about making friends, her mom’s decision not to date again for a while until things settled in. Eventually, Katie brought up her thoughts on the neighbor, and how she thought it seemed connected to her dad. She asked her mom if it was wrong to feel hurt by these things, and her mom replied, “We’re hurt all the time by things that don’t go the way we want them to sweetie. But nobody has to accept the hurt and just drown in it. I know your Dad will never give you anything much but hurt. We’re far enough away from him and all that, I can be honest with you. But what you feel hurt by from this point forward, well, it doesn’t have to keep hurting. You can’t control other people’s thoughts and behaviors, but you can control how you feel about them.”
Candace rested her arms on the table and leaned toward Katie. “Look, if you want, I can talk to the neighbor and ask him directly if he has some kind of issue with my kid.”
“Mom! No! Please don’t do that.”
“Then you should do it. Don’t let your ideas of people you don’t know decide how you’re going to feel. Sometimes you just need to confront someone and ask them what they’re really thinking. It’s easy to decide what people are thinking without ever talking to them, but chances are it’s wrong.”
Katie considered this, ran the scenario through her head, what talking to the neighbor would possibly look and sound like. She could already feel the nervousness of that moment. Speaking to people, especially adults other than her mom was no simple thing. But her mom always had a way of making things a little simpler, a little clearer. She would talk to him. She’d start by asking his name she decided. And instead of asking him if he disliked her, or kids in general, she’d ask about him personally and decide if the response he gave would confirm her worries or not.