When Waves Part

She points to the picture of the rooster in front of her. “See right here,” her voice is direct, “It says the rooster is loyal and intelligent but also opinionated, overconfident and narrow-minded.”
I’m familiar with my friend’s teasing but something feels like a knife through the heart when I hear that. I feel my face sag. Kelly reacts by letting out a sigh and adjusting in her chair before saying, “Don’t take the zodiac stuff so seriously Lil. But don’t you think there’s some truth about you being narrow-minded.”
I’m mentally frozen. Sure, I can be hard on my friends and family sometimes, but that is because I love them. Plus, Kelly is the one to talk. There are multiple times in my life when I’ve felt judged by her. My emotions are not well hidden because Kelly picks up on my discomfort.
“Lily, I’m sorry,” she says as she extends her hand to sit on top of mine. Her sincerity is questionable. “I wouldn’t have joked about it if I didn’t think you could handle it. All I want is the best for you.”
Unsure what to say, I mutter out, “thanks.” My pen presses too hard against my receipt. Trying to avoid getting frustrated by Kelly’s words, I put my pen down and look up at her sitting across from me. “And I know what you mean. But I prefer to think of it as preventing fires more than being narrow-minded. How else do you expect other people to be happy?”
“But if you’re so focused on other people’s happiness, how do you make time for your own happiness?”
I am dumbfounded by her candid question. She returned from a once in a lifetime trip to Asia, so she’s probably still in a Zen den mode. I’m sure a lot of people would be focused on their own happiness if they returned from an oversea adventure, but who has time for a vacation. No, it’s better to be mindful of how I can control things, so everyone is happy.
Luckily, the waitress comes over with our cards, so I don’t have time to say anything else. We bid each other goodbye, and I make my way to my car. My day continues like any other day. In the rare pockets of time where I don’t have much to do, I find myself reminiscing about the conversation with Kelly about me being narrow-minded. Whenever I do think about it, my body feels a literal discomfort, so I attempt to think about something else. It isn’t hard to distract myself now from those thoughts as I’m now making dinner.
David often gets home in about another ten to fifteen minutes and Stella is upstairs in her room. I miss the sound of Stella playing her guitar before dinner. I haven’t heard that sound in so many weeks, it feels like an eternity. As much as I wish Stella could start playing the guitar and get back to her normal self, I know there’s not much a mother of a teenager could say to change that. Still, I go to check on her to avoid the deafening sound of this silence.