Chapter 18 - New Boundaries
The family developed rules.
Not formal ones.
Nobody printed them.
Although Daniel offered.
Rule one.
Do not volunteer Claire’s money.
Rule two.
Do not volunteer anyone’s property.
Rule three.
Ask before assuming.
Rule four.
A favor is allowed to be refused.
Rule five.
No bowls of sauce during conflict.
Marissa added the last one.
It became a family joke.
Humor returned slowly.
Healthy humor.
Not the kind that disguised cruelty.
Mom became surprisingly good at boundaries once she stopped treating them as rejection.
One Thanksgiving, Aunt Linda asked whether I might host Christmas because my dining room was larger.
Mom answered before I could.
“She can decide that herself.”
I nearly dropped my fork.
Aunt Linda looked confused.
“I was only asking.”
“And that’s fine.”
Mom smiled.
“But asking is not assigning.”
I stared at her.
She noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Claire.”
“I’m proud of you.”
She blushed.
My mother.
Sixty-three years old.
Blushing because her daughter said she was proud.
Families were strange.
Marissa had a daughter the following spring.
Her name was Sophie.
I became an aunt.
A dangerously enthusiastic one.
I bought too many books.
Too many tiny clothes.
Too many stuffed animals.
Marissa called.
“You need to stop.”
“I can afford it.”
Silence.
Then we both burst out laughing.
“Too soon?”
I asked.
“Forever too soon.”
I visited often.
But only when invited.
That mattered.
One afternoon, Sophie was asleep against my chest while Marissa sat beside me.
She looked exhausted.
Happy.
Terrified.
Normal new-mother things.
Then she said,
“I’m scared I’ll become Mom.”
I looked at her.
“In what way?”
“Not respecting boundaries.”
“You already worry about it.”
“That doesn’t guarantee anything.”
“No.”
I adjusted Sophie’s blanket.
“But it helps.”
Marissa stared at her daughter.
“I want her to know she can tell me no.”
“That will be annoying when she’s thirteen.”
Marissa laughed.
“I know.”
“And sometimes you’ll still need to make decisions because you’re the parent.”
“I know.”
“But her personhood matters.”
Marissa nodded.
“I didn’t understand that about you.”
“You do now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve apologized.”
“I know.”
She smiled.
“I’m probably going to keep doing it occasionally.”
“That’s your right.”
“See?”
She laughed.
May you like
“Boundaries.”
I rolled my eyes.
