A history of family

It was obvious Petra was a mistake. Her mother was fifty two years old with two ten year old girls by the time she had come along, so Petra’s first memories seemed more like stories from a history book. Anything her family had done, any trips they had taken, any experience seemingly molding who they were as a family, all happened before Petra was born and this left her with an unshakable feeling of loneliness. She was an outsider, an observer of her own tribe. By the time she was eight, everyone had moved on to a new phase in their lives; one that had little room for children. The twins left for University which inspired her mother to take some classes at the community college. Her father, who had always wanted a son, spent most of his time in the basement reading old biographies and collections of poetry. Petra learned quickly that attempts for their attention were futile. She never danced, sang, ran about or told stories of any kind, because she was either met with silence or a distant ‘uh huh.’ She became like a ghost in the house, listlessly wandering through the exceeding quiet.

The twins, Petra’s sisters, also referred to as ‘the girls,’ would come home every so often for a holiday or weekend, and the light and sound of the house would be instantly turned on and magnified. It was such a wonderful feeling for Petra. So good, it almost eclipsed the fact that when someone made reference to ‘the girls,’ they meant only the twins and not her. She would sit, on the footstool in the kitchen watching her family’s animated conversation. Mother would be up and down getting coffee and snacks, and dad would finally emerge from the basement. They became people Petra didn’t recognize. Ones that talked and laughed and looked you in the eye as they smiled with love. She’d hear the old stories over and over again and reveled in them, wishing she could have been there, imagining her parents when they were younger and wondering how she would have reacted had she been there. She wished she had such special memories to share. She wished she had a story to tell that would finally get them to look at her.

Petra longed to feel like one of ‘the girls.’ She wanted to feel the same sisterhood the twins so obviously felt with each other. Watching them together, their closeness was clear. Their minds and bodies would move serendipitously in tandem.

The twins knew their younger sister needed to be close to them and wanted very much to make her feel a part of things, but there was not much they could do for the shy little girl since they were rarely living at home anymore. They also had a hard time being close to Petra because of a secret they had kept since children. A pact unexamined and life altering.

It wasn’t until age ten that Petra found herself a real friend to play with. Her name was Heidi and sometimes she would invite Petra over to her house after school. Heidi’s mother worked from home and would always make time to sit with Heidi in the kitchen to drink hot chocolate and ask about her day. Petra would watch transfixed over her quickly cooling cocoa. This mother daughter duo had the same kind of closeness the twins had. They touched often. They hugged, tickled and fussed as Heidi’s mom would repeatedly try to brush the hair form her daughter’s face. Heidi would whine for her to quit, but it was an obvious jest. Petra could see the love in their eyes as they looked at each other. She tried to imagine a time when her mother had looked at her like that.

Thanksgivings were always a pretty miserable time for Petra’s family. The only surviving relatives living close enough to visit for the holiday were Petra’s grandparents Olive and Clem. Every year, stoic Clem would drive his wife two hours north to see their last surviving daughter. Every year Clem would sit in front of his plate of turkey with one ear at the dinner table and one ear tuned to the football game, and every year Clem would say absolutely nothing as his wife of sixty five years belittled every single adult at the dinner table, with special attention focused on their son in law.

The twins, now twenty, were also not immune. “You girls have gotten awfully fat lately.” “Feed you a lot at school, do they?” “Better be careful because you have very fat genes on both sides of your family.” “Look at your daddy, his hips are so round he’s practically a woman,” She laughed, “And you already have your mother’s double chin.”

“Can I go to Heidi’s now?” Petra asked. She had been invited to her friend’s house to have pie after dinner and she was very excited to see how other families spent the holiday. Surely they didn’t have crabby old ladies yelling at them. They didn’t have an exhausted looking mother or a father who sat quietly with his head down as his manhood was repeatedly insulted. Petra pushed her plate away and got up from the table. Her grandmother grabbed her by the wrist as she walked by.

“Now this one,” Olive said holding the girl in a tight lock, “I suspect this one won’t have to worry.” She’s got the Magneson genes all over her and her mother’s firm jaw line”. “She’ll look like Audrey Hepburn one day.” Petra was confused. “I thought you said mom had a double chin?” The volume in the room went silent while the noise of the football game grew to an almost deafening roar. Everyone stared at Petra. “Who’s Magneson?”

Olive’s mouth was so close to Petra’s ear that it made a ringing noise as she yelped “Jesus, Marion, haven’t you told her yet?” “Gregory, I suppose that was your brilliant idea.” “Never could own up to your own bad mistakes.” “You always expected someone else to take care of your messes.” Petra’s father, head still down, stood up from the table and excused himself to the basement. The twins began to sniffle back tears and at last Petra’s mother looked the young girl straight in the eye, although coldly. She sighed very deeply as if admitting a sort of defeat and began to speak mechanically, almost like someone had put a coin in her to deliver a recorded message.

“Your real mother was my cousin.” She said. “Your father was going to divorce me and be with her after she gave birth to you, but she was killed in a car accident. Your father couldn’t handle it alone, so we worked things out. I’m not your real mother, Petra.” “I’m glad I said it, it’s time you knew.”

There was sound in Petra’s head. A sound she didn’t recognize was coming from her belly and cutting through her throat as she heard it rise to the surface and extricate itself from her body. “I hate you!” She screamed. Each word became an elongated cry, “I hate you!” She broke free from her grandmother’s grip and put on her coat and hat. Then she burst through the front door and into the blindingly bright sun and icy air. Her mother’s words circled and floated above her head. “I’m glad I said it Petra.” She tried to run away from it as fast as she could. She tried to trade the vision of her mother’s cold stare for the stabbing cold air she was now gasping into her lungs. But with each gasp came a new thought. Not my real mother. Not a real family. I’ll never belong with them. Alone, alone, alone. She ran all the way to Heidi’s house before stopping just short of the door to calm herself. Her mother’s cruelty was unbelievable. Only a stranger could be that cruel. Only someone not bound by blood would act like that. She grabbed a handful of snow to wipe her tears and cool the flush from her cheeks and forehead.

When she walked into her friend’s house, she saw something very different from her own Thanksgiving experience. People were everywhere. There were children wrestling and running, adults sitting on couches and on the stairs with plates of pie on their laps, talking loudly to hear themselves over more people talking loudly. Everyone laughing and enjoying each other, no one was fighting and everyone was family. They were everything Petra hoped for. Then she saw Heidi who immediately grabbed her and dragged her into her bedroom.

“God I hate my family.” “I wish they would leave already, my cousins are tearing up the place and my mother keeps forcing me to talk to people I barely know.” “She keeps telling me I’m being rude, she’s such pain sometimes.”

Heidi’s mom walked in just then with two plates of pie. “Hi girls, thought you might want to try some of this pie. It has Snickers candy in it.” Heidi sighed disgustedly. “Knock much?” Her mother ignored the dig. “Your grandmothers leaving pretty soon, Heidi, why don’t you go say goodbye.” Heidi rolled her eyes and stomped out of the bedroom. Her mother sighed as she plopped herself onto the bed next to Petra. “She’s a bit crabby, I’m afraid.” “Not used to having so many people in the house, I guess it gets on her nerves. But this is her family. It’s big and it’s loud and she’s going to have to get used to it whether she likes it or not.” She laughed. “How about you, Petra, did you have a good Thanksgiving? I’ll bet your family isn’t as crazy as ours.”

With that, Petra burst into tears. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. They didn’t know how good their family had it. They were big and full of love and loud voices and touching and laughter. They probably didn’t lie like Petra’s family did. They didn’t have a father who slept around.

“Oh Petra.” Heidi’s mom immediately began consoling the girl. “Petra, I’m sure it’s not all bad, honey, there, there. The woman couldn’t believe she was actually saying ‘there, there’ to the girl, but she had no idea what was wrong so she said all the stereotypical things one says to a crying girl. “It’s going to be ok.” She said, not because she knew everything was going be ok, but because she understood that everyone in this world had their own burdens to bear and that, in effect, somehow really did make everything ok. She cradled the girl and let her sob onto her shoulder.

Then Petra did the oddest thing. She kissed Heidi’s mother on the lips. She put her lips to Heidi’s mother’s lips and held them there as long as she could. She wanted to feel close to someone and she wanted to kiss someone like they kissed in movies right after they said they loved each other. She didn’t know how to kiss, so she smashed her lips into the woman’s face and grabbed her head to hold it there. Heidi’s mother pulled away, shocked.

“She’s not my real mom.” A lump formed in the back of Petra’s throat. “My dad had an affair and I was born and I ruined everything.”

Heidi’s mom did not know what to say. She pulled Petra back into her arms just as Heidi walked in asking what was wrong. “Petra’s having a bad day, honey lets give her a hug.” Heidi became weepy upon seeing her best friend’s face. “Don’t be sad Petra. I love you, don’t be sad.” The three of them sat on the bed as they held each other and listened to the muffled sounds of celebration. It was the first time Petra remembered being held and she was overcome with a feeling of relief. Now she knew she didn’t have to look to her family for support. She didn’t have to work so hard for their love. Love could be found anywhere and despite what her family believed, it didn’t have to be by blood.