My Life Next Door by Huntley Fitzpatrick

If everyone here screamed and fainted, we could all go home. You need to show as little skin as possible.” “These are very conservative women, Samantha. I’m hot and uncomfortable in the navy blue empire-waist dress Mom insisted I wear. I look off in the distance at one of Mom’s posters propped on a tripod-GRACE REED, FIGHTING FOR OUR FOREBEARS, OUR FAMILIES, OUR FUTURE-and try not to notice, just outside the French windows, the turquoise shimmer of a pool. When you’re working on behalf of the people, you don’t have regular hours.” Mom murmurs something soothing about making sure it complies with the bylaws, and having her staff look into it. “Things should have a certain look, and this does not! I am up in arms, Senator Reed, up in arms!” “Smile,” Mom hisses through her teeth, bending to listen to a small, white-haired lady who is angry about some new construction on Main Street. And she ran against this maniac who didn’t believe in public education.īut this time…I wonder how many children of politicians have thought the way I’m thinking right now, shook all those hands and said “Support my mom,” while thinking, “Just not what she stands for. I’ve heard Clay talking to her, telling her it’s great strategy, that Ben Christopher’s big weakness is that he’s too liberal, so the more Mom talks up the other side, the better for her.

Still, the space between what I believe and what my mom believes seems to be widening by the day. I know about current events from the newspaper and discussions at school, but it’s not like I go to rallies or picket for causes. I just find myself feeling worse, more guilty, at each event, about what she cares about. She cares deeply about the State of Connecticut” approximately fifteen million times. We’ve been here for an hour and a half and I’ve said “Please support my mother. I’m standing next to her at a Daughters of the American Revolution gathering, shaking hands. Stand up straight and smile,” Mom whispers to me. “Maybe.” Tim reaches for the Mountain Dew he’s been nursing for the last half hour. “You’ll feel so much better when she’s unhappy?” Jase’s fingers close on something in his tool kit. “From what I can see, he’s a conceited douche bag who’s only going to wind up hurting Nan. I didn’t know Nan was going somewhere with Daniel. “So Nan went to New York with the boyfriend this weekend,” Tim mutters. Jase ruffles his hair, the way he always does when he’s confused or hesitant. “That feels okay? ’Cause I can’t see how.” Jase ducks out from below the Mustang, slowly straightening up.

“But when haven’t I felt wrong? Nothin’ new there.”

My Life Next Door by Huntley Fitzpatrick