Part Eleven: The People Who Raised You
I'm moving dad to hospice. He stares at the text that comes through from Genny early Tuesday morning.
He doesn't feel much of anything.
That's a lie. He feels aggravated — infuriated, even — that this couldn't wait even twenty-four hours after he'd almost died.
And then he immediately feels guilt.
He knows how much stress he'd put Genny through the last two days. The fact that she had also been having to deal with this? He truly can't understand how she does it.
But as much as he loves his little sister, there's a lot he can't understand about her. Especially when it comes to her relationship with their father.
And now he's back to being aggravated.
Because, if it were up to him, he doesn't owe that man a damn thing. It's Genny that feels compelled to have a relationship with him, to take care of him.
Those are her choices to make. And he's been more than clear about his own.
And yet, he somehow still feels the weight of her burden.
He flips the screen over on his bed and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes.
He can't deal with this right now.
Lucy stares up at her ceiling, feeling more exhausted this morning than she had felt when she had finally gotten to sleep last night. And it's no wonder — the last few days have been a whirlwind of highs and lows from the housewarming through to whatever it is that had happened between her and Tim last night.
She covers her face, thinking back on how emotional and upset she'd gotten. It makes her feel vulnerable and exposed and maybe even a little embarrassed.
There are certain moments that stick with you in the worst possible ways. The moments you return to repeatedly in spirals of self-doubt. Moments that cut in a very specific way — that hurt on a deeper level. A level where they nudge up against and embrace your darkest fears and insecurities.
No one is immune to these things. Lucy knows this.
As the child of two therapist parents, she likes to believe she has some level of self-awareness about her insecurities — what they are, where they come from, how she feels when they are rearing their ugly heads.
It's becoming undeniably clear that that morning in Mexico is going to be one of those moments for Lucy.
Because there were a lot of reasons Tim could have given her for why he thought their night together was a mistake — that he was confused about his feelings or that things were moving too fast or that he'd never actually intended to leave this experience with a wife.
But he hadn't said any of those things.
Instead he had brutally jerked on a long lingering thread of insecurity — a generous gift ingrained by her parents via a lifetime of being made to feel like nothing she did was ever good enough — that she could never be good enough.
And so of course she had chased the thread that had been pulled weeks ago; it was only a matter of time until she would follow it home.
She doesn't even really like to think too much about it — hates the way the memory of that morning makes her feel like a dark, sludgy ooze is climbing up inside of her threatening to take over.
As the child of two therapist parents, she also knows that ignoring or avoiding these things doesn't make them go away. It only ensures the exact opposite.
She rolls over, hugging her pillow tightly to her chest and pressing her eyes closed.
She can't deal with this right now.
As luck would have it, they are set to have dinner with Lucy's two therapist parents on Wednesday evening.
Things have been uneventful, if not cool and a little awkward between them since their emotional exchange on Monday night.
Tim is clearly trying to give her space, and even though a part of her aches to give him some validation — to not leave him hanging in limbo about where they stand, a larger part of her is focused only on self-preservation.
The pull between them is too strong, and she knows the minute she opens the floodgates, everything is going to get too confusing, too fast. And she's just not ready to take that on.
Tim glances at her over his coffee on Wednesday morning as they both prepare to head into work. "Anything I should know about your parents before tonight?"
Lucy opens her mouth to respond, but pauses as Tim's phone begins to vibrate on the counter. Genny's name flashes on the screen.
Tim quickly silences it.
"You can get that," Lucy offers, a little surprised. She's gotten the impression that Tim and Genny are pretty close, and she hasn't seen him not immediately respond to one of her calls or texts up until now.
Tim shakes his head, "It's fine. I'll call her back on the way to work. What were you going to say?"
"Oh, um, yeah. I mean, not really. They're both therapists, so sometimes I think they forget that how they interact with their patients and how they interact with people who are not their patients should be different," she laughs. "They can be a little… intense."
"But yeah — other than that, pretty normal. I'm an only child," she pauses thoughtfully, "unless you count the turtle they got me when I begged for a sibling."
Tim chuckles, "Why can I just picture the happy, chaotic ball of energy you were as a kid? I have no doubt that a sibling was probably exactly what you needed."
She laughs, "Yeah, the turtle wasn't the best at keeping up, so I started spending all my time at my best friend's house. Not sure my parents really thought that one through. But hey, at least I learned how to speak Tagalog."
Tim arches an impressed eyebrow.
"You're so lucky. I bet you and Genny caused all kinds of trouble when you were kids. I would have killed for a partner in crime. What was that like?"
His smile falters for a second, "Uh. Yeah, it was… fun. We had a lot of fun."
Lucy waits to see if he'll continue, but when it's clear he isn't going to, she goes on. "Anyway, back to my parents. I guess you should know — they are pretty liberal. They aren't huge fans of law enforcement. Especially given their professions and the impacts of incarceration on mental health. It's a touchy topic so probably just best to steer clear," she advises.
Tim nods slowly, expression turning slightly wary.
"But, I'm sure it'll be fine," she rushes to reassure him. "I think it's more of a hate the system, not the individual cogs sort of thing, you know?"
Tim snorts with laughter, "So I'm a cog now?"
"Aren't we all? Don't even get me started on their views on the downfall of journalism and the loss of trust in media and my decision to dedicate my life to a dying, toxic profession."
Tim raises his eyebrows, "Sounds delightful."
"Honestly, I'm still kind of surprised they agreed to do this at all after they refused to come to the wedding. I don't even really know why I asked them. But I guess they are my parents, and it would be nice to have their support," she shrugs, feeling a bit wistful.
He nods his understanding, and for a moment he's looking at her like he's puzzling something out. "Well, I promise to be on my very best behavior," he teases sweetly.
Well, dinner turns out to be even more awful than Lucy could have imagined.
Obviously, she'd been aware enough of her parent's feelings toward law enforcement to warn Tim. Hell, she's even inclined to wholeheartedly agree with their views in a lot of ways.
But both of her parents know and thankfully love Jackson, and she's never, ever heard them go at him the way they are going at Tim right now.
Apparently, they feel a lot more strongly about someone's profession and life choices when that someone is married to their daughter, however temporary it may be.
She can feel the stress radiating off of him at her side, as he attempts again to politely deflect an attack on his livelihood.
"I don't know how people can put that uniform on and still look themselves in the mirror in this day and age, knowing that they are serving such a broken system. You're basically a paid bully for the city," her dad asserts matter-of-factly. And as much as she knows his heart is in the right place, she really hates how righteous he can be on topics like this, unwilling to hear or consider other points of view.
Tim winces, but only offers a curt nod in response. He's trying so hard to be respectful and understanding, even though she knows it has to be hard for him to not stand up for himself, his choices, and his beliefs.
"Dad, how is a system going to change if there aren't good people in it, working to change it?"
Her father scoffs. "Right, sure, let's hear it then. What exactly are you doing to make change then, Sergeant Bradford? To fix a system that is rooted in corruption and discrimination? A system that is far more focused on punishment than rehabilitation?"
Oof, she'd walked Tim right into that one.
Tim swallows uncomfortably, "Sir, I don't disagree with you that there are major issues —"
"Bàba, please," Lucy quickly cuts in, hoping to spare him. "Can we please just talk about something else? Tim is our guest, and I'm sure you're making him uncomfortable," she says pointedly.
Her mom looks irritated at Lucy's chastisement. "Of course, let's talk about the elephant in the room, then."
She waves a hand around at the cameras and film crew. "How's this going for you, Lucy? Did all your dreams come true?"
Lucy flinches, and Tim bristles.
"Or can you finally see that your father and I are always looking out for your best interests? We love you, honey, but decisions like this one do little to instill confidence in us that you're focused on the right things."
Lucy looks on the brink of tears, as she just nods, clearly unable or unwilling to defend her choice to do the show.
Tim adds a millionth reason to the list of reasons he has for wishing he hadn't fucked this whole experience up for her. He thinks about how satisfying it would have been to show up here and show these people just how wrong they are about their daughter.
Mrs. Chen is still going. "As if dropping out of grad school wasn't enough, now this? Your reputation is all you have in this world, sweetie, and you've made yourself into a spectacle.
"At some point, we are going to have to have a conversation about your lack of direction and focus in life. Lucy, we just hate seeing you waste your potential. You could be doing something so much more meaningful with your life."
Lucy's eyes flash with indignation and frustration. "I love my job — it makes me happy and I'm good at it. And I don't understand why you can't just support me?"
If her mom hears Lucy's plea, she doesn't give any indication. "I mean, imagine if you had finished grad school, or better yet, gone to medical school — you used to love chemistry in high school, do you remember that? Think about the impact you could be having, all of the people you could be helping."
Tim shakes his head in confusion. Are they actually talking about Lucy? Intelligent, empathetic, ambitious Lucy?
He's shocked that they'd be so critical of their daughter, who is obviously highly accomplished in her field (and hell, even if she wasn't, she'd still be deserving of their support), but he's even more shocked that they don't seem to have any qualms about tearing her down in front of him, or in front of the cameras.
He looks over at Lucy and her entire energy has changed. She seems so much… smaller.
"Respectfully, I have to disagree," his voice is tight but civil, and all three Chens swivel their heads toward him as if they've entirely forgotten he was there.
Lucy's eyes are wide and she gives Tim an almost imperceptible shake of her head, but it's too late. He's already opened his mouth and solidified his spot on the Chens' shit list; may as well make it worth it.
"Your daughter single-handedly did more to dismantle the drug trade in this city than anyone else I know. Than entire agencies of people. I couldn't even begin to guess how many lives she's saved through the investigative work she did.
"And maybe it's just me, but I'm not sure how anyone who was in contention for a Pulitzer could possibly be wasting their potential."
Lucy glances toward Tim in surprise because that is definitely not something she had shared with him. Or anyone really.
And though she hadn't expected to walk away with the prize for her investigation into the cartels, it had been a huge honor to even be submitted for consideration.
Both of her parents look a bit shell-shocked.
"Huh… well — I guess I didn't realize that article you did was so impactful," her mom finally manages. "That's great, honey. We're so proud of you. Why didn't you tell us you were considered for a Pulitzer? "
The rest of dinner passes cordially enough, the topic of Lucy's wasted potential effectively table.
Lucy intertwines her fingers in Tim's as they walk out to the car. They are both quiet. And Tim is starting to wonder whether he has completely overstepped. It really hadn't been his place to insert himself, but truly he's still shaking his head at how absurd it is that her parents are anything but over the moon proud of their incredibly talented and successful daughter.
"Lucy, I — I'm sorry if I overstepped. I probably should have just kept my mouth shut."
She laughs, "If? You completely overstepped, Tim."
He frowns and moves to open the passenger door for her, but she stops him, tugging him back toward her. She lifts a hand to his cheek and gently brushes her thumb over his skin, warmth radiating from her as she raises her eyes to his.
He sucks in a breath, unsure of what to expect from her. She arches up on her toes and presses her lips softly against his.
And for as much as their last kiss had been passion-fueled in the heat of the moment, this one is the complete opposite.
It's short and sweet, but so very deliberate, and maybe one of the best kisses Tim has ever gotten for that very reason.
She squeezes his hand as she pulls back. "I know how you feel about that article, Tim. I know that couldn't have been easy… And you really didn't have to — but thank you."
His throat goes dry, and he rubs the back of his neck, feeling strangely — is he actually nervous? What is that strange fluttering in his stomach?
He swallows before admitting, "I — uh, I think I'm starting to realize I was wrong about a lot of things, Lucy."
"Is that so?" she asks softly, sliding her arms around his waist as she allows her cheek to settle against his chest. And he is certain he'll never get tired of this — the way she shows her affection. Never get tired of being the person she chooses to show it to.
"Uh huh." It's all he can manage as he presses his eyes closed and pulls her closer, suddenly feeling a lot more hopeful about what lies ahead.
"Tim?" Lucy ventures as she gradually pulls back, much to his disappointment.
Her eyes are flashing with amusement. "What other amazing things did you learn about me from Google?"
