Page 130 of The Replay

"I do!" I say. "I don't have a strong, independent career that proves I'm a badass like you, Cora. And I don't have a six-year track record killing it in the charity world like Maisie. I moved to England when told, then got married to someone that got Mom and Dad excited, then did what I was supposed to do to fit in with his world. And then I accepted it when he was done pretending we were happy. So I came to this part of the world to try to prove myself… with a job my sister got me. What do I have to show for it? Nothing!"

"To show whom?" Maisie asks. "Mum and Dad?"

I clench my jaw. I hate that that's my answer.

"I don't know where I fit in with the family." My voice is strained. "Everyone is so successful. I can't be the one who couldn't take all the things we were given on a silver platter and went nowhere with it."

My sisters study me. Their gaze feels heavy on me. I breathe through it. Small waves hit the posts below us, and I focus on the calming sounds.

"Is that why you're anxious all the time?" Cora's voice is soft this time. "Because you think you could fail?"

"I need to be anxious," I start.

"Why?" Maisie asks.

What a simple question, so full of implications.

"If I'm not anxious, I may be okay failing," I confess. "And If I'm not anxious I'm just… sad."

My throat constricts word by word, until there's barely any sound left at the end.

Back when I was more actively involved in therapy, I spent a lot of time talking about this with my psychologist. At the time, the solution was to accept this, and simply focus on managing the intensity of it. I don't know what will come out of this next bout of brain housekeeping, but something tells me I'll have to go deeper than that.

Maisie's hand lands on my knee, while Cora's goes around my shoulders.

"Ah, hermanita," Cora sighs. "Sad because Mom and Dad would be a pain about it?"

I nod. "Because it would mean there was never a point in trying to be good enough. And my goal would have to be to learn to live with their criticism, because I can't stop it."

At the end of the day, that's what I've been avoiding. Disappointment so deep, it could lead to depression. I can't afford being depressed. It would suck me in. I'd stop working to accomplish anything. Success would be nothing but a mirage I failed to reach.

"You can't stop them from being judgmental," Maisie says. "They love us, and they want the best for us, but they have their own past. Their own stuff they haven't dealt with. They don't know how to guide us if it's not through their demands, because if we accept their expectations, their version of happiness and success, they don't have to confront their beliefs. And you know what? That's their trauma. You don't need to listen. You don't need to take it in."

"They've always had an issue with belonging." Cora shakes her head in a wistful way. "Like the modern version of the new money in the Gilded Age or something like that. With Dad immigrating and building himself up from so little. And Mom comes from a family who had recognition but lost it. Maybe you inherited some of that, too?"

"They're Mom and Dad. I probably did."

And while they hardened themselves to survive their world and pursue their goals, I shrouded myself in questions. In worries. Because they detect problems before they can happen, and isn't that smart? It's so smart.

Only there are things you can't avoid. Twice I've had to face pain— the break up, then that call and having to block him… and I'm preparing for a third go at it. Funnily enough, all with the same person. Perhaps because, with him, I feel free. Like being me, anxiety and all, is fine. He'll be there and not judge. Until I've stopped asking questions and trying to prevent the consequences.

"And we're your sisters," Cora says. "We can learn from each other too. We're going to be by your side. And even if Mom and Dad disapprove, we're all still going to be family."

"I know." I gaze down at the water beneath my feet. "That's why I'm here. I want us to be family. It's the one thing that lasts through it all. Growing up, our only roots were those we had with each other. Despite distance, despite the different futures we were reaching for. We had Mom and Dad telling us we could go far, that we should go far, and a few meals together through the year. Every other school friend, every other neighborhood, faded into oblivion every time we moved."

"We were all lonely in our own way," Maisie says.

I nod. "I'm just trying to find my place. A little corner I can defend and say I'm Mariana Sinclair Montt. I get to have a voice and be respected as part of this family."

Maisie smiles. "You don't have to wait to start doing that."

Cora pulls me a little closer. "So what if you do that in this corner of the world? Seattle, to be more precise?"

"With Dom and the Strike and working with Cora," Maisie adds. "That sounds rather brilliant, I think."

Gold has turned to violets around us. Clouds are rolling in. It's beautiful in its own way, with fading light deepening the green and dark grays of the sea and the hundred islands around us. We won't have stars tonight, and maybe that's okay.

"I heard what he asked you," Cora says. "He wanted you to figure out what you want. What do you want, Mari? Not what do you think will make Mom and Dad happy. What will make you happy?"