Flourishing in Florida

Fern hadn’t intentionally left her cell phone behind. She hadn’t even planned to flee, but once everything occurred as it did, she did think fleeing was best. She knew her parents would never believe it hadn’t been her intention. Harold certainly was already telling everyone that she was just being silly after one of her hysterical fits. However, Fern now understood that they would never take her seriously. Their perception of her was that she was a silly, flighty girl who always worked herself up over the littlest things instead of being the strong, intelligent woman she is. Anytime she tried to stand up for herself, they accused her of overreacting. 

That morning she left, she grabbed her purse and headed to the bank. She withdrew everything and closed the account. It was supposed to be her account. Her paychecks were deposited there. Her side commissions were deposited there. But Harold and her parents used that account whenever their’s were low. Lately, they have all been low more often, and she watched her savings deplete more rapidly. She suspected that her mom had stopped working and never told her. That morning, Harold dropped the news that he was going to quit his job to pursue his real passion: antique car repair. Harold didn’t even own any tools. 

What she felt wasn’t a panic attack? There was too much rage, and something snapped. It felt good to snap. Sensing that she was going to snap, her family intervened.

“Don’t overreact, Fern,” Harold said. “It’s not just a hobby; it can turn into a lucrative career!”

“We are all onboard with it. We were waiting to tell you because we know how you are. Little things set you off,” her mom claimed. Fern wanted to leave. To do so, she’d have to go out the front door because she didn’t want to walk between any of them to get to the garage. 

“Fern, honey, be mature about this. Harold is going to start on his own, and I’m going to help in the evenings and weekends. We have it all planned out. In two to three months, I’ll quit my job too and start working fulltime on the cars.”

“What cars?” she asked dumbfoundedly.

“Sweetheart, the antique cars we just told you about. Are you having one of your fits?” Harold asked condescendingly. He was supposed to be her partner, but outside of the bed, he treated her like an annoying little sister.

“How are you going to buy them is what I’m talking about? You have no money,” she explained.

“This is a family business,” he offered as if that explained anything. 

“So you got a business loan?” she asked hopefully. 

“Of course not,” he responded. “Why would we do that?”

“Because you don’t have any money,” she reiterated.

“Our family has money,” Harold said.

“We’re not married,” she informed him. “You are not family.”

“Whoa, that’s a mean thing to say,” her mom intervened. “Maybe it’s time for you to go upstairs and lie down for a bit.”

“No,” Fern said.

“Fern, don’t talk back to your mother. I agree it’s time for you to lie down before you work yourself up into one of your frenzied states.”

“No,” she repeated. “You all have been pilfering money from my savings and it has to stop. Mom, are you still working?”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” she replied. 

“Mom, did you quit your job?”

“You need to stay in your lane, little girl,” her mom said.

“I’m a thirty-seven-year-old woman whose parents are stealing from her. I don’t think little girl is appropriate here.” 

“They aren’t stealing from us,” Harold said. “I told them to take what they need from our account. We live with your parents. It’s the least we can do.”

“I pay the mortgage and utilities!” Fern exclaimed. “And WE don’t have an account.”

“OK, go to your room,” her father said. “You are hysterical, and we need space from you before you say something hurtful.”

“She already said that I wasn’t family,” Harold reminded them. Fern took a deep breath and looked around.

“I’m going for a walk,” she announced.

“That’s a good idea,” Harold responded as if it were his idea. “Walk around until you can calm down and have a civil conversation like an adult. 

She grabbed her purse and walked out the front door. Her phone and car keys had been in the kitchen by the back door, so she just walked until she came across a bench in a little park. So many things ran through her mind. Conversations like this happened too frequently. Her life wasn’t her own. Her life was a battle with people who claimed to love her. It finally dawned on her that she wasn’t happy living like this and nothing was ever going to change. She could, though. Across from where she was sitting was a travel agency. She took it as a sign. She booked a one-way ticket to the Florida Keys. She had always wanted to go there. The agent also helped her book a car rental and an affordable place on the outskirts to stay in for a week. 

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” the agent asked her.

“I seem to have left my phone at home. Could you call me a cab?” Instead, the agent ordered her an Uber to her bank, and she Venmoed him the cost. When she got there, she closed the account and opened a new one at a bank down the block. She could’ve opened a new account at the same bank that they couldn’t access, but she felt resentful towards the bank as if they had colluded with her family and Harold. (She refused to call Harold family even in her head.)

During this time, her mom tried calling her many times. After getting no response, her father and Harold started calling to scold her for disrespecting her mom. It wasn’t until late that night that they realized she had left her phone. It wasn’t until after that, when they were unable to order takeout, that they realized they had been cut off. 

Fern sipped her pina colada as she watched the sunset from a cute little bar by the water. She flourished in the Keys and finally learned what it was like to enjoy life. She never saw her “family” again.