Emma That is Dead (FREE!)

Chapter Forty-Two

Emma's Journal Entry

March 4

Today's assignment: Name something you can improve about yourself starting today.

Do you believe in divine intervention? They talk about it at church and it's usually in conjunction with some over-the-top miracle from the Bible, like raising the recently departed from the dead, or releasing a torrent of plagues to free people from slavery.

But I think it can come in the form of less sensational acts, too. Like a quiet interference that could easily be missed if you're not paying close attention.

I may have experienced such an interference last night. My parents and I went to visit my grandparents, the same as we do every week, and as I was helping Abuela with dinner, she said something odd and completely unprovoked. She told me to have faith in the unexpected.

She said just when we think we have life all figured out, something can come along and surprise us. We get so used to assuming things are, or will be, a certain way, that when the unforeseen happens, we realize there's an entirely new depth or element we never knew existed.

She said it's especially true when it comes to the people we love. We avoid telling them things because we're afraid it will hurt them, when in reality, we're only hurting ourselves by depriving them of the truth.

I didn't think too much of it until she brought up how hard my parents have worked to ensure I have everything I need and want, and how that kind of drive can oftentimes cause people to lose sight of what's most important—and what's most important is time. The good and the bad. Time spent together as a family, making memories. Playing games, telling stories, sharing thoughts, feelings, successes and losses. Because once time is gone, it's never coming back.

Isn't that weird? Out of all the things she could have said, why that? Why now? When I'm making plans that will impact my entire future?

Do you think it's possible she knows? Not about Stef or my intentions to be with her, but how I'm not the daughter my parents think I am? That I'll never be able to live the kind of life they've been hoping for?

I've had this giant knot in my stomach ever since.

My grandparents have always been good to me, and they won't be around forever. After I leave, how will I know if something happens to them?

And here's an unsettling thought I can't get out of my head ... what if Abuela said all those things because something's wrong with her or Abuelo right now and she wants me to come clean while they're still around to see it?

I hate to even think about it because I love them so much. But it's possible, right? I mean, elephants know when they're going to die. Maybe old people do, too?

I did a lot of observing during dinner last night, watching my family interact with one another, and I realized something. They may put a lot of pressure on me, but everything they do is out of love—as annoying as they can be.

For the first time since I met Stef, I thought about all the things I'd miss if I were gone. No one throws a party like my family, and I mean no one. The music, the dancing—the FOOD! And what about our yearly visits with relatives in Mexico. Even the way my parents call me "mija". It would be weird to never hear that again.

To be fair, I've never told Mom and Dad how bad they sometimes make me feel. I've just dealt with it because it was the easiest thing to do. Their need for me to get good grades. To play soccer. The extracurricular activities, and ridiculous charade of perfection. It's because I'm their only child and they want the best for me, even if they are unbearably pretentious at times.

But no family is perfect, right? Not even Arbor's. For the longest time, I thought they were, but they obviously have their issues. Smith's family, too.

Maybe I should write out the pros and cons before I do anything rash? For instance, what's the worst that could happen if I told my parents the truth? Easy: they'll cut me off and refuse to see me again. But then, if I leave, the same will be true.

On the flip side, what if they actually listen to what I say? And what if—and this is a MAJOR what if—but what if they don't hate me after they know the truth? We're family. We're supposed to love each other unconditionally. That means no matter what. Even when we disappoint one another.

So here's what I'm thinking: maybe I will tell them how I feel. Not right now—I'll talk it over with Stef when I see her tonight and find out what she thinks first. Besides her cousin, she doesn't have much of a family. What if my parents accept me the way I am—is it crazy to think they could accept her, too?

And if they're not interested ... well, I'll deal with that if or when the time comes. The most important thing right now is finally getting to meet her. She's driving in from New York as I write this, and when school gets out, I'm heading over to the motel. I can't believe it's finally happening!

Whatever my parents say, my feelings for Stef will never change. I'm still going to be with her, even if it means we have to wait a little longer than we'd planned.

It's not that I'm getting cold feet or anything. It's just that Abuela got me thinking. What if she's right about having faith in the unexpected? If I don't at least give my parents a chance, I may always wonder 'what if'.

Even with all their faults, I don't want any regrets, you know? We're family ... for better or worse.

Wish me luck.