Five Times

Part 7-Emma

        "Why?" Emma muttered the phrase repeatedly as she paced her room. Why was she doing this? Why did she think this was a good idea? No, breathe. Emma told herself. You're going to be okay. She leaned against her door and let out a shuddery breath. She was prepared. Emma had put on a blouse, and a skirt. She was even wearing sandals. (Well, technically they were flip flops, but you have to give her some credit.) Emma glanced at her bottle of Xanax. Taking another one was risky, but if it calmed her nerves...
With a firm swallow, Emma downed the pill, and then she walked down the stairs to see whatever verdict awaited her.
           They were bent over the table, arguing over bills. Was this a good time? No. But honestly, there never was a good time in the Nolan household. Emma cleared her throat.
"Um, Mom, Dad, can I tell you something?"
They looked up. "Emma, can this wait? You're father and I are kind of busy right now." Jenny said.
"I mean, if I have too." Emma replied.  "But, I just feel like, if I don't tell you now, I never will?"
David looked up. "You're wearing a skirt." He noted. "This must be serious." He and Jenny looked at each other and he threw up his hands. "Alright, what is it?"
Emma took a breath and approached the table. "You should probably sit down for this." She warned.
         They sat. Jenny looked at Emma. "Please don't tell me you're pregnant."
Emma smiled. "I'm not." She took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm gay."
         They blinked. "What?"
"I'm gay." Emma repeated. Regretting this more and more with every syllable. "I'm a lesbian, Homosex—"
"I know what it means." Her father snapped. "I'm asking what you think gives you the right to tell us that?"
Emma stood there in shock. She knew it wasn't going to be good, but...
"I..."
"You know, we have a lot of stuff on our plate right now, with the property taxes going up, and your father losing his job, and now you go and tell us that you're a...homosexual?" Jenny exclaimed. "I just...don't understand."
"You know Emma, it's really hard raising you, and now I get rewarded with a f*cking dyke?! What did I do to deserve this?" Her father asked.
The Xanax must not have kicked in, because adrenaline still coursed through Emma's veins. She was mad.
       "It was hard raising me?!" She yelled. "You never f*cking did anything! Raising me? Where? I've been told to shut up and stay out of the way my whole life. If you gave me something, it was to keep me quiet! I'll tell you what was hard, living with you!"
A vein popped out in David's neck. "How dare you talk to us that way, after all we do for you." He growled. "Your mother and I have clothed you, fed you, given you shelter—"
"Wow, my basic human rights! How nice!" Emma sneered. She turned to Jenny. "You know, if you didn't want me, you could have gotten rid of me, there are other options."
"Not back then! Not here!" Her mother cried. "It was expensive, a long distance. "Your grandfather gave me support, he let us stay until I could figure this all out."
The same grandfather who gave you your crappy personality. Emma thought. But all she said was "Y'know, you've never been on my side, not once. This just like when Grandad Ryan threw the frying pan at me because I didn't want to help cook Thanksgiving Dinner. I was in pain, and all you did was tell me to stop overreacting, it wasn't like anything was broken. You know what that's called? Gaslighting. Congratulations, you're abusive!"
"I never said anything like that, you must have made it up." Jenny exclaimed.
"Whoop, there it is!"
Jenny clenched her fist. "You are such an ungrateful little b*tch, Emma. And you know what, you're right! I should have aborted you."
Emma blinked back tears. That stung, bad. She tried to find the words, but she had no energy left. Nothing but tears remained.
        "Let's a make a deal, Emma." David drawled, putting his hand on her shoulder. She flinched, fully expecting to be on the floor in a matter of seconds. It didn't happen. Instead, he gave her a cruel smile. "Since you are so very unhappy here," he continued, "and I don't want you here either, why don't you just leave?" Emma felt her breathing getting quicker. So much for the extra Xanax.
"Are you...kicking me out?" She whispered.
"What's wrong? I thought you hated us?"
Her chest hurt. "No, please don't do this." Emma pleaded.
"You said it yourself, I should've gotten rid of you." Jenny quipped. "And now I am. You have fifteen  minutes. Get your sh*t and get out."
          The next hour was a blur. Somehow, Emma made it into a strong embrace. A woman's frail voice told her it was going to be okay. But it wasn't, the world was never going to be the same.