John

Most of the time, I just wake up. I never set up an alarm because there is no point in it. My drive has instructed my body to prepare. To get up and not to stop until I am satisfied. And that time will never come because I will not rest until I have what I want. I want people to respect my name without a still hesitation. I sit up and just exist for a few minutes. I battle with myself to get up but I don't see what I should. I am to get ready to eat with my parents and two sisters, but I could always say I am not going. I'll probably get an earful but I do not feel like socializing especially because we are meeting up at the restaurant. My sisters are two years apart from each other. And I am in my 30s. So I am about 5 years apart from my sisters. 

Arriving at the restaurant, I give the name of the reservation to the host so they can lead me to my family. As always my parents are punctual. I take a seat and greet them. One of my younger sisters arrives a few minutes after me. My father signals the waiter to take our order and our order is placed. As we wait, we do what any family does. We converse. Even now as adults, my siblings and I meet up to, in my opinion, put up an image and update each other. Our parents don't like being the last ones to know about anything new in our lives. They especially don't like hearing it from someone else first other than their kids.  

"How is everyone doing?" My father starts. In response, we all say that we are doing well. 

"Anything new we should know about?" My mother presses on. That gets one of my sisters to start speaking. 

"Working on my dissertation proposal. I will be presenting in a few weeks. My advisor said, that my draft is almost finalized." Michaela informs our parents. My sister is currently a Ph.D student majoring in English. What she wants to do with that degree is a mystery to us, she has yet to mention what her plan is. I don't press her about it, I know why she hasn't announced her after graduation. 

"Congratulations, Micki." Amanda, the youngest sibling sounding excited is shot down by our mother. 

"Amanda, please don't call her that. Use her proper name." My mother scolds her. My mother doesn't like nicknames, she doesn't see the point of having one when she took the time to pick out our names.  

My sisters have less pressure than I do. My parents have allowed them a certain level of freedom I was not allowed. My sister Michaela has a reserved personality, she likes books. She has blond wavy hair. While my sister Amanda who is 23 years old is more energetic, she is only expected to behave. Her passion is mathematics. She is hoping to further her education after receiving her bachelor's in applied mathematics to a higher degree in statistics.  In contrast to Michaela, Amanda shares my dark brown hair, which passes for black. But because we are siblings, we all share our parents' eye color, blue. 

"John, have something to report?" My mother directs her attention to me. What she is asking isn't about my work or the law firm. No, she is asking if I have been dating. My sisters and I never dated much and if we did it was a temporary thing. Until that is, I got together with Bell. While Bell has a similar background to mine, my parents never liked how she behaved. She has a nonchalant attitude to what my parents how important. 

"Nothing to report, mother. The law firm keeps me busy." I reassure her. 

"Good to hear. We don't want any more distractions." My father takes a sip of wine from his glass. "Or setbacks."

My parents are loving parents but image seems to be more important to them than what I feel. I know what he means by that. He is talking about Bell. My failure. My one failure is never forgotten. Hundreds of years can go by and both my parents will mock me about that one mistake. It's a trace I need to erase. 

"If can make some time this week. I have someone you would get along well." My mother continues the conversation. I know at one point I will have to find a wife. But now is not the time. I haven't found someone I want. And I surely don't want my mother to get the idea of choosing for me. "Mother, I appreciate the thought but let me hand this."

"John, your mother might be more familiar with this matter." My father encourages my mother. My sisters look at me but say nothing. They probably know what I am feeling and know better than to try and help me against our father. They saw how in love I thought myself to be with Bell. 

"Son, we could just give it a try." My mother presses. 

I tighten my jaw and take off the napkin on my lap to place it on the table. "You may not see me as capable enough to think on my own, but I will ask of you again to let me use my own discernment." Before either of my parents could interject again, I excused myself from the table to go get some air. 

As I head outside of the restaurant, I look around. Where to go and when to go back inside? I did not feel like socializing today and now my mood is ruined. Image is hard to matina especially when you doing it alone. My sisters are not burdened with that, and I am glad they have more freedom. But at the same time, I am jealous that I can not be as free as I want to be. I have a desire apart from my parents' wish, I want to have the image I need. As I take the time to calm down, I notice two women on the other side of the door. I am out of their sight but I can see them, I take note of the woman having glossy hair. Straight hair like the ones you see in shampoo commercials. The woman's hair reminds me of the scientist from Fairview. She turns enough for me to see that she is that woman. 

My intention was not to overhear, but I noticed that they were arguing. Nicole seems flustered and irritated as well as the woman she is arguing with. The woman she is looks like she's around her 40s. Outside the restaurant, I stay by the entrance to stay out of their sight. But their argument seems to develop more as they start raising their voices. 

"What is wrong with you?" The old woman sounds annoyed.

In disbelief, Nicole raises her voice, "Me? What is wrong with me? I did nothing. I was not the one that brought that up. It was your daughter."

"Mine? How is that her fault? Stop dragging her into your mess. You always do this. You always play the victim and ruin everyone's mood."

Nicole scoffs, "Are you listening to yourself? How is it that it is always me? Always my fault!"

"You are a selfish brat. You never learned to behave yourself. Acting like a wild beast with your stupid outburst."

"Me? What about you?"

"What about me?"

 "I am not the one acting like a-" Nicole doesn't finish her sentence because that woman slaps her across the face. 

"Don't disrespect me. Don't you think about-" The woman doesn't get to finish, because Nicole slaps her back. 

"If you want my respect. Earn it. I am not a kid anymore. I can fight back. And this time, let's see who wins. This is the last time you hit me because next time I'll hit you harder." Nicole stands up straight and walks away. She doesn't see me but I see her walk toward the parking lot instead of asking the valet. 

She is not the enemy.