Self Para || Weathering the Storm
1,500+ words.
Trigger Warning: Controlling parent.
Finally having arrived back to Nashville, back to the security of the love nest they had carved out of his home, a renewed sense of calm had returned to Saoirse. There was a visible relief that washed over her face and every tense muscle of her body, since the moment she walked across that threshold earlier this morning. But there was still tension hanging in the air, not between Roman and herself, but as to the unfairness of the events of last night. It was outside the control of both of them and that left a respectable amount of anger. The Pittsburgh loss taking a lot out of them and the looming storm that was the upcoming games now threatening to take away what she wanted most for Roman, winning the Stanley cup.
As the promise of a beautiful day that the morning held was now becoming actualized, the sun shined the brightest it had in days as the temperature stayed that of a cool Californian day. What a difference this was from the Pittsburgh smog. The pool water out back glistening with its reflection of the sun as the grass of the yard looked akin to a comfy carpet, beckoning Saoirse to go out and play. Barefoot she soon traipsed out the sliding glass door through that yard in cut off jeans and a bikini top. Casually she threw her towel over a chair preparing herself for a impulsive dive into the pool, but before she could even unzip those shorts, the familiar silent buzz of her phone arrested her attention. Quickly fishing through her back pocket to deem if the call was even worth answering. Instead of the expected sight of Roman’s name on the screen, the words ‘Mum’ reflected back. A roll of her ocean eyes just came all too naturally.
Her mother, Monica, usually had texted her at a specified time in the morning, almost every morning like clock work. Though not always the first words, the same line was always sure to follow, ‘Are you still with that Hockey guy?” And every time back would be a ‘Yes’ with ‘his name is Roman’. This game was getting quite boring and Saoirse guessed that was why the question had been less frequent in its delivery lately. Monica waiting now every two to three days to text her daughter. Saoirse could only hope that her mother was moving towards accepting that the relationship was now past fling status.
Going ahead and biting the damn bullet Saoirse hit answer, quickly rushing the phone up to her ear. “Hi mum” Her voice full purposefully and planned to be overtly joyous, as if putting up a shield to not let her mother steal away the bit of joy she found today. But all that joy was met with a rather flat ‘Hello’ Saoirse just knowing by that tone that there was a question looming in the silence, the silence that was starting to hang over them too long for Saoirse’s liking. “Everything okay?” Saoirse stepping outside of herself to realize her mother’s call could have actually been about a truly more serious matter; grandmother was sick or someone was in the hospital.
“I saw the news about that hockey game you went to.” Monica speaking up, and just like that making Saoirse regret answering the damn phone. She was still naive to a degree wanting to believe that the presumptions her mother had on Roman would surely change when she got to know him, believing her mother would come to love him. For who could not love him? It still did not help that she was so damn unsure what kind of man her mother would actually deem worthy of her. The woman had already frowned upon Saoirse dating other actors and Monica had pushed away every man that threatened to get close to her, to the point the young woman believed that not even a Irish doctor or a English prince could make her mother’s list.
“That was an embarrassing display. Do you care to be associated with such people?” As soon as the words passed her mum’s lips, she could feel her blood begun to boil. She wanted to rail back at her mother, curse her out for daring to judge a whole group of people Saoirse had endeared herself too. But she held back on the words she really wanted to say, because on the other hand, she was reminded of what all her mother had sacrificed for her. The woman had practically built Saoirse’s career with her own two hands. Did she not have right in trying to protect her daughter and her career then? And if Saoirse was honest she felt indebted to her own mother in a way she could never really pay back. After all, family was family. Blood would always be there.
Still the use of the term ‘such people’ had Saoirse’s mind reeling as to what the hell her mother really thought of hockey players and where a middle aged Irish woman got such ideas from. Saoirse now was cutting circles in the grass unconsciously pacing in the yard. “He’s got a very good heart, it just wasn’t a good game.” A sigh heavily traveling through the phone, as sadness painted over her features. She wasn’t going to get across to her mother today and for that she grieved. “It’s all just much more complicated than I can explain and right now I am just trying to relax..” Trying to say she would rather have save this discussion for a time when she didn’t feel so drained already. The last 24 hours not something Saoirse wanted to relive in a highlight reel right now.
It should be a momentous occasion for any girl; telling your mother about the one you loved and how they expressed that love in return. Though Saoirse had not dived head first into this relationship, it had initially been just a test of the waters, she didn’t want to return to her life without Roman, She loved this man, loved him for everything he was: so self-deprecating, funny, terribly quite, and yet so self-assured when need be. He was surely willing and able to call her out and yet make her smile when need be. Two things actually incredibly hard to find in one guy.
“He’s a sports star.” Her mother interjected ruining the pleasant thoughts of Roman that had aided in keeping Saoirse calm, now standing still and bringing her hand up to rub her aching temple. Her mother’s tone so sure like his occupation was an actual good reason or defense for hating him. “Just as bad as the footballers. Even the married ones have a different woman in every town. “ And there it was, the root of all her mother’s not so well concealed distrust. “Have you seen what their wives look like?” Monica was sure to quickly tag on, trying to clearly put salt in the wound. Saoirse would admit she wasn’t some 6”2’ beauty with long locks of hair and the looks of an exotic model but she liked to think she was beautiful in her own way still. That self-assurance wasn’t proving to hold up well to the insult she heard in her own mother’s words.
“I got to go I think the producer of Mary is on the other line.“ It was a lie, a lie spouted to get her own mother off the goddamn phone as quick as humanly possible, because there was nothing Monica wouldn’t do to not interfere with the job. Hitting end on the phone before her mother could say the words to follow the exhaled breathe on the other end. Saoirse was left to let her eyes linger on the background of her phone as it changed. It was a blurry shot of her and Roman that kept watery eyes to the screen. The phone call left her with only the bitter taste in her mouth, the sharing in the joy of the new love she had found denied by her mother’s controlling overprotectiveness.
Now she was stuck with a conundrum in the aftermath of it all, she could tell Roman about her mother’s hostility towards their relationship and the repercussions of doing so ranging from him confronting her mother to him ending the relationship to save himself from the drama. Or she could hide it; pretend family back home was excited for him and herself by conveniently keeping it silent. It pained her to think of keeping anything from him, but she still refused to relinquish her hope that she could sway her mother into liking him. Saorise exhaling another held breathe she didn’t know she had been holding, tilting up her head up fully to the sky as darkened clouds hung at a distance, telling of a coming storm tonight.
