16. I Feel Better

I Feel Better

"I feel so stupid," Hadley admitted to Snow White as they trotted together through the open field. "I wanted to believe Dorothy but my dad is right. I forget to do things sometimes and that's why he's angry. It's me. I'm the reason." Even though Hadley was opening up to Dorothy more, she still kept her deepest thoughts and biggest secrets for Snow White – her silent confidant.

"The thing is, Snowy, he said something awful and I can't stop hearing it. It keeps playing in my head over and over and over." She let out an exasperated sigh before stuttering through her next sentence. "He told me my mom would be disappointed in me." Hadley slumped her shoulders forward as tears fell onto the saddle.

Snow White came to a stop and stood patiently in the field as Hadley folded on top of her. Tears were streaming down her face as she gasped between sobs. Hadley didn't try to contain her emotion. Instead she let herself feel every ounce of the confusion that seared through her.

Eventually Hadley straightened up. She took a deep breath in and released it slowly. Her breath still trembled on exhale, but she was calming down. She wiped her tears and shook out her arms, releasing the tension from her body. Her hands flew to the horn when she almost lost her balance. She shook her head and blew out a shaky breath before giving Snow White a thankful rub on the neck.

Hadley gently squeezed her feet against Snow White to signal that their walk could continue. The duo proceeded to silently walk and then canter around the field. The bitter wind wiped away Hadley's tears that continued to fall with each new thought she had. Once back to a walking pace, Hadley decided to start talking again. "It's just that whenever I think about my mom, I imagine her looking down on me. I stare out my window at night and see her in the stars. I always think she's watching over me with pride but now I'm afraid she's let down. That's what my dad thinks." Silence filled the air for a few moments. "He's right, you know. My mom was really sick at the end and she still kept the house spotless. She would've never left the dishes in the rack or dropped food on the living room floor. She was perfect. She was perfect and I'm not. I'm not sure I'll ever be as good as her. If you think about it, Snowy, it makes sense that my dad is so mean all the time. He had perfection and now he doesn't."

The horse stopped again but this time it seemed like a protest. "It's okay, pretty, you don't have to stop." Hadley pressed her legs together to encourage the horse to restart. "It's just the truth. It was stupid to talk to my dad as if anything would change. Things won't change until I do." As they meandered toward the barn, Hadley noticed Dorothy waving at her from the old wooden rocking chair on the front porch. "What do I tell Dorothy, Snowy? She believed in me and gave me all this hope. Once she finds out I messed up the talk with my dad, I think she'll be disappointed. I don't think I have it in me to disappoint any more people."

Hadley dismounted the horse with a heavy sigh. She spent a minute with her forehead pressed against the side of Snow White's neck and allowed herself to feel the raw emotion that squeezed her stomach. She whispered to her favorite confidant to forgive her for the lie she planned to tell.

***

"I'm so glad to hear you talked to your dad, dear." Dorothy smiled as she set a plate of snickerdoodle cookies between them, next to a glass carafe of milk and two etched petal patterned drinking glasses. Hadley poured a little milk into one of the glasses and smiled feebly. She wasn't sure what to say, so quickly took an oversized bite of a warm cinnamon sugar cookie.

"I hope he took to heart what you had to say."

"Yeah, I think he did." That part wasn't a lie. Hadley felt sure her dad felt the impact of her words. He just didn't agree with her. He made sure she understood just how wrong she was.

"Good, dear. Are you feelin' any better about all of it?"

Hadley took a long sip of her milk before responding. She tried to look thirsty but really she was buying time. I should be honest. She wanted to change her mind and tell Dorothy just how awful the conversation went. But looking across the table, she saw the hope in Dorothy's eyes and the smile on her face. She could feel Dorothy's pride. To tell the truth now would definitely disappoint her. She needed at least one person to be proud, even if it was under false pretenses.

"I feel better," Hadley said with every ounce of conviction she could muster. She paired her lie with a big smile. The immediate guilt caused rising bile to burn her throat. She swallowed loudly before clearing her throat and grabbing more milk.

"You sure, dear?"

"Oh yeah, definitely. I think I just drank too quickly. I feel better now. Thank you for suggesting it. I think things will be okay."

Dorothy didn't look convinced, despite her words. "That's great, dear. I am always here for'ya if you ever wanna talk more. Don't ever be afraid to tell me things."

"Thanks, Dorothy," Hadley said with a smile.

Dorothy glanced over at the clock. "I reckon you better start headin' home so you're not late for dinner."

Hadley didn't want to tell Dorothy that there was no chance of her missing dinner since dinner only happened if she made it. "You're right. I should head home before I'm missed." Dorothy and Hadley stood up together, tucking their chairs in and collecting their glasses for the sink.

"I can handle a few dishes, dear. Go on home. I'll see'ya tomorrow?"

"Okay. Tomorrow for sure." Hadley waved as she shifted toward the front door. Once outside, Hadley fought her lungs for the fresh air surrounding her. She held onto the little air she drew in. She rubbed her clammy hands against her winter jacket and shuffled her feet toward the fence. She eventually found herself forcefully exhaling a few moments after she grew dizzy. She focused all her efforts on breathing. Just breathe.

She didn't realize she had walked to the fence line until she nearly knocked into it. Hadley paused, realizing this section of fencing was completely out of view from Dorothy's house. Since she was hidden, she decided to sit for a few minutes to calm down before finishing her walk home. She sat and watched the field and the few roaming horses she could see. The sun was starting to set which painted the sky a beautiful ombre. Hadley barely noticed, instead she rested her head in her palms and stared at her shoes.

She wanted so badly for someone to feel proud of her. She had that from Dorothy but it wasn't sincere. She had lied. There's no way Dorothy would've been proud of Hadley if she were honest. She thought lying would feel better, but it didn't. She now added the weight of a guilty conscious on top of the already too-heavy weight of her parents' disappointment. Parents. Plural. She knew her mom would be as let down as her dad described.

Drawing in one last deep breath, Hadley hopped off the fence and walked home with her head slung low. She ignored the songs of the goldfinches and the whines from the downy woodpeckers perched in nearby trees. She ignored the babbling from the stream that paralleled the road, where she used to hunt for newts and salamanders with her mom. The internal conflict building inside her drowned it all out, leaving her with a swirling brain. Where did everything go wrong? She was once her mom's favorite sidekick. They were always happy together. Now she was the thorn in her dad's side. I can fix this. I can be better. She decided she would set her alarm clock an hour earlier than normal. This would give her more time to clean the house before her day started. She could stay up late, too. If her mom could be perfect, so could she. Then maybe she would find the peace she desperately needed.