They Left Me Out Of The Picture So I Created My Own Chapter 18
A week before Christmas, I was at the gallery reviewing the installation checklist when my father called again.
“Lauren and I talked it over. The whole family can fly to Providence and take you out for a nice dinner.” His tone was deliberately bright. “A family should spend the holidays together.”
“The gallery is in pre-show prep. I can’t leave. And I’m not coming back to Chicago.”
There was a pause on the line.
“Avery, are you still angry with us?”
I set down my pencil.
“No. I just don’t want to go back.”
“But that’s still your home.”
“Is it?” I looked at a photograph that had just been hung on the wall. “Then on this year’s Christmas card, are you planning to print five names, or four?”
My father didn’t answer.
“If it’s still four, then that house never had a place for me to begin with. And if it’s five, it’s only because my name was in the paper. Which, honestly, makes me want to go back even less.”
“Avery, that card was just—”
“It’s not about one card.”
I cut him off, my voice calmer than I expected.
“After I left that house, my work finally started to breathe. And so did I. This isn’t about whether I’m angry. I don’t need to go back just to prove I’m finally worth a spot on a Christmas card.”
All I could hear was his heavy, frustrated breathing.
In the past, whenever he went quiet like this, I was always the one to back down first. This time, I didn’t.
“When I want to go back, I’ll let you know.”
“How long will that be?”
I looked out the gallery window. Snow was falling through the Providence streetlights, and from inside, I could hear someone calling my name.
“Maybe a long time,” I said. “Maybe never.”