It did not go well.

I regret that I did not consider how stressful it might be for Pamela to hear from her stepfather, particularly on her birthday.  On Earth, the good and the bad are always tangled up together, and maybe it is the work of the Enemy, but it always seems that the bad is first to come to mind in such circumstances.

She read the message, and it stunned her.  It was the very last thing she was expecting.  While a part of her was gratified that her birthday had been acknowledged—last year’s passed without a word from her family—the rest of her heart was occupied with the long months of silence, with the pain that it was her stepfather, and not her mother, who reached out.  She was upset, and all of her vulnerabilities came rushing back to mind.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with this,” she said, pouring wine for herself, Evelyn, and Diana.  “It just came out of nowhere.”

“But it’s something at least, right?” Evelyn asked, putting Pamela’s wineglass into her hand.  “It’s better than silence.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what to do next.  Do I call, do I email him back?”  She sighed and sank onto her sofa, pulling her feet up close to her.  “I’m not ready for this.”

Diana slid her chair a bit closer and nudged Pamela with her foot.  “What did he say?  Cliffsnotes[1] version.”

“Well, he wished me happy birthday.  Said it had been a long time since we talked—which, duh.”  She swallowed.  “He said the boys miss me.”

“That’s good,” Evelyn said encouragingly.

Pamela nodded; she has also missed her brothers.  “But then he said that we had some things to talk about.  What does that mean?  He can’t possibly still be mad at me, could he?  What I said was dumb, I know, but that doesn’t mean that they cut me off for a whole year.”

“What did you say, anyway?” Diana asked, leaning forward.  “I think I remember you mentioning it, but I don’t remember exactly.”

Pamela hunched a little more into herself.  “He was just saying something stupid, and I just got impatient and called him out on it.”  She’s quiet for a moment, but under the gazes of her friends she adds finally, “And the words ‘misogynist’ and ‘asshole’ might have been in there.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows go up.  “So maybe in future we censor the things we say to our family?”

Pamela sat up, putting her feet on the floor.  “Why?  I have a right to my own opinion.  I shouldn’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not to get them to like me.  I won’t do it.”

“Yeah, and even if you disagree with someone, that’s not enough to suddenly pretend that they don’t exist,” Diana pointed out.

Evelyn held up her hands.  “That’s not what I mean, of course not.  But sometimes it’s easier to agree to disagree and not argue about those things.”

“I know, but what happens when I’m trying to be good and respectful and they’re not trying at all?”  Groaning, Pamela threw herself down on the sofa, her face in a cushion.  “I just got so sick of it being a one-sided relationship.  I needed them, and they just weren’t there for me.”

“So message your dad back, and tell him how you feel,” Diana suggested.

“I agree, I think a message is best,” Evelyn said.  “That way you won’t get sidetracked; you can say everything you need to say without being interrupted, and they’ll have to read the whole thing through before they respond.”

Pamela turned her face toward her friends, looking despondent.  “What am I supposed to say?”

There was no easy answer to that question; I couldn’t think of one any more than Evelyn or Diana could.

“Why don’t you just write it, and if you want me to read it through afterward, I can,” Evelyn said hesitantly.  “Just to give you an objective perspective.”

Pamela sighed and sat up again.  “Thanks, but I think I just have to figure it out myself.”

Diana got up and came to sit next to Pamela, putting her arm around her shoulders.  “Just remember, you’re not alone no matter what happens.  You do still have a family.”  Evelyn nodded, completely in accord.

I made certain to show Pamela the sincerity of their words, the truth in their support and love.  Tears came to her eyes, and she thanked her friends, feeling a bit better about the problem.  But only a bit.

After Evelyn and Diana left, Pam spent a couple of hours trying to write a reply to her stepfather.  I was with her that entire time, trying to calm her heart and help her to write with sincerity and not anger, to express her pain without trying to cause more.  It was a long few hours.  I have hope, though, that the message will open further communication between her and her family.  When that happens—or when it does not—I will be certain to write again.

 

[1] I am uncertain as to the meaning of this—notes from the cliffs?  Or perhaps it is from a man named Cliff?  I am uncertain as to why his opinion would have any relevance here, if he exists at all.