Chapter 5: The Family Meeting
\nWhenever my mother declares a \u201cFamily Meeting,\u201d she prepares an absurd amount of Community Coffee and enough passive-aggressive baked goods to survive a nuclear winter.<\/p>\n
I walked into my parents\u2019 dining room. It felt like a hostage negotiation. Celeste had flown back early, realizing her European vacation had cost her a custody empire. She sat next to Trent, whose wrist was adorned with a stack of wooden beads that clacked supportively every time he breathed. Dad sat at the head of the table, looking incredibly fascinated by his cuticles.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou destroyed my family,\u201d Celeste fired the opening salvo, glaring at me across the oak table.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t have a family, Celeste. You had a hostage situation.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNaomi!\u201d Dad barked, deploying his stern \u2018Father\u2019 voice.<\/p>\n
I turned my sights on him. \u201cActually, Dad, since we\u2019re unearthing the truth, I\u2019d love for you to explain the part where Daniel begged you to see his children fourteen months ago, and you told him to stop bothering you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom froze, a plate of snickerdoodles hovering mid-air. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Trent reached over to massage Celeste\u2019s shoulder. \u201cPerhaps we all need to take a breath and regulate our nervous systems\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
I snapped my head toward him. \u201cTrent, if you utter the phrase \u2018regulate our nervous systems,\u2019 I will drag you into the bayou and feed your premium white sneakers to a snapping turtle.\u201d He blinked, his mouth snapping shut.<\/p>\n
I pulled out my phone, pulled up the printed screenshot of Dad\u2019s Facebook message, and slid it across the table to Mom. She read it. The color drained from her face. She looked at the man she had been married to for forty years as if he had just confessed to being a Soviet spy.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou knew?\u201d Mom whispered. \u201cYou told me Daniel had abandoned them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad squirmed, his possum instincts flaring. \u201cI was trying to keep the peace! He was upsetting Celeste! I didn\u2019t want the conflict!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour peace strategy was helping one parent disappear with five children!\u201d I yelled, my composure finally fracturing.<\/p>\n
Celeste slammed her palms on the table. \u201cYou have always hated me, Naomi! You\u2019ve always been jealous!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJealous?\u201d I laughed\u2014a harsh, barking sound. \u201cI painted your nursery for free! I gave you a six-thousand-dollar loan you took a year to repay! I have babysat every time you asked! If this is how I express hatred, I am terrifyingly bad at it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom slowly placed the plate of cookies on the table. She stood up. I had not seen this specific posture from my mother since 1998, when Dad almost burned down the garage frying a turkey.<\/p>\n
She looked down at Celeste. \u201cDid you keep that man from seeing his babies because he was dangerous, or because he challenged your spending?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe upset me!\u201d Celeste wailed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey are not extensions of you,\u201d Mom said, her voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm whisper that echoed my own. \u201cThey are not pieces of your ego. You do not get to erase their father because he makes you uncomfortable.\u201d She turned her furious gaze to Dad. \u201cAnd you. You aided and abetted this sickness.\u201d<\/p>\n
Dad spiritually died right there on the Persian rug. The meeting dissolved into chaos. Celeste stormed out, Trent trailing behind her like a pampered show dog.<\/p>\n
Months passed. The dust began to settle. The court conducted a grueling, exhaustive review. A Guardian Ad Litem was appointed. Celeste\u2019s history of moving to evade service, blocking phone numbers, and educational sabotage was laid bare. Daniel was awarded primary residential custody. Celeste was given structured, highly monitored parenting time.<\/p>\n
And Trent? About six months after the European debacle, he vanished. Apparently, \u201cluxury human potential\u201d has a strict threshold for dealing with family court subpoenas and actual emotional labor.<\/p>\n
I thought the drama had finally plateaued. Until my gallery manager, Renee, entered Non-Refundable into a prestigious showcase in New Orleans. A wealthy couple from Houston bought it for a ridiculous sum of money. A local arts blog took a photograph of me standing proudly next to the canvas.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t think anything of it. Until my phone buzzed. An email from Celeste.<\/p>\n
You made art about my pain?
\n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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