Great Expectations

"Tonight we'll be free, all our promises will be broken." - Bruce Springsteen

Sunday morning, my parents – most likely my mother – decided we should go out to breakfast together, as a family. We went to a small bistro in downtown, a trendy restaurant where anyone important went to eat. The hostess seated us at a small table in the front, near a window where I could watch everything that happened outside my snow globe of life.

My father’s Bluetooth glowed in his ear; he was probably waiting on a call from Tokyo or Berlin or something, never able to leave business at home. My mother, perfectly coiffed and airbrushed as usual, smiled at me from across the table as the waitress placed mugs of coffee in front of us.

“We need to get you a dress for Seacliff’s Fall Ball,” she said, stirring sugar into her coffee. “I suppose we could go shopping this afternoon.”

I nodded, idly playing with the menu in my hands. I couldn’t keep this a secret… I couldn’t keep Dean a secret. My parents had to know. My dad might understand – he was so wrapped up in his business it wouldn’t matter what I did, as long as I didn’t disturb him. My mother was the one I’d have to fight.

In silence I sat and listened to my mother talk about everything that was happening in her life – all the scandals that affected various people I didn’t care about, all the comments I’m sure my dad ignored. She daintily picked her fruit salad, the perfect model of a debutante. My mother was supposed to be my role model, but she was exactly the woman I did not want to become.

“You’ll be going with Hunter, of course,” she said, looking up at me, her gray eyes completely devoid of understanding.

It’s now or never, Juliet. Make yourself happy.

“No,” I said. For the first time that morning, my father actually looked interested in the conversation – though he didn’t look angry. Neither did my mother. Her face betrayed little expression. I recognized her anger only because the fake smile had left her face, only to be forced back a second later. For one second, her façade cracked, but it would not remain that way. It never did.

“Did you meet someone else?” She asked, her voice light. She was faking disinterest, as though this little bit of information hadn’t shocked her at all. It didn’t take her any effort at all to maintain the mask she had created years ago, but it was killing me to tell her the complete, entire truth for the first time in my life.

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, I met him a while ago… he moved here this year.” My mother’s face fell. I could hear her voice in my head, though she wasn’t saying anything: My daughter is such a disappointment. How hard is it to behave?

“Does he have a name?” Her voice was demeaning. With an air of displeasure and superiority, she was treating me like I was a child. She was reaching her boiling point, and soon, the claws would come out.

“Dean Montague,” I said. “I’m going to the Fall Ball with Dean Montague. And you’re not going to stop me.” All my life, I’d been raised not to create a scene, but I had thrown those old rules out the window. If my parents wouldn’t listen, or if my mother went too far, then there would be a scene. I’d created a scene at Charity Dupree’s party on Halloween. I wasn’t afraid to create another one this morning. Let them talk – Juliet Hanson was finally standing up for herself.

“Is that the boy with the motorcycle?” she asked, her eyes narrowed. “The one we told you never to talk to?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s the one.” I took a deep breath. I wasn’t going to let my mother intimidate me into changing my mind. I felt empowered – by what, I had no idea – but it was a liberating feeling. I felt strong. I felt independent. I felt like myself.

My mother leaned across the table, lowering her voice. “Do you think this is funny? Are you purposely trying to make a fool of yourself?”

“I’m doing what I want,” I said. “Not what you want. You can tell me I can’t go with Dean, and then I won’t go at all.” My father was the referee, my mother and I players in a well-matched game. My mother was determined to get me to comply with her rules, but I refused to play by them. I was being insolent, disobedient, and bratty, but I didn’t care. This is the one thing that I had to stand up for – the one rule I would not obey.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, turned down at the corners in an angry frown. “I will not let you ruin the family name – ”

“No one cares, Mother,” I snapped. “People in your life might care, but they’ll get over it. Every day there’s a new scandal, some exciting bit of gossip no one’s heard yet. For a few days, I’ll be the hottest gossip, and then someone else will slip up and they’ll become the new topic of conversation. I don’t care what people say about me. Not about this, anyways.”

I had shocked her into silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a smile flash across my father’s face. When I turned to look at him, his face had lapsed back into its usual distracted indifference. My mother took a few deep breaths before speaking. “It appears I cannot change your mind on this matter. You can bring this… this Dean boy, if that’s what you really want.” Believing I had misheard the words she’d spoken, I stared at her. “And it’s rude to stare,” she snapped, discreetly examining her fingernails.

Slowly, a smile crept onto my face. “Thank you,” I said. Glowing, I picked up my fork to eat the rest of my crepe.

“Don’t be asking to dye your hair blue or pierce your nose,” she said stiffly. “And you are not going to be getting a motorcycle anytime soon, either.” I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. This was the first and most likely the only time my mother would relent and let me do what I wanted, but I didn’t care. I was finally free.