12 - Where the Red and Assiniboine Meet Part 1

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Trigger warning: This chapter contains a short discussion (not a scene) about violence against women. It's right at the very end of the chapter.

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Caleb's gaze scanned the many strip malls and fast-food places as we drove through the city. "Looks like you won't be missing your second home so much with all these options." He nodded toward the Chinese, Japanese, and Indian restaurants popping up in the retail complexes.

"Sadly, we have few Indonesian restaurants. Lots of Thai and Filipino though, so I can relive that if I ever move back here."

The thought weighed down my arms as I drove. As nice as it would be to reconnect with my friends and hang out more, going through winters, finding a career that was scuba diving in pools or returning to lifeguarding didn't appeal to me. I could find a different job, but I wanted one that I was excited about, and what I loved most was diving and sharing that passion with others.

"Do you get homesick?" Caleb asked.

"For certain things. Christmas abroad is weird. It's just another day and depending on the shop, sometimes you work. But I don't miss the winter weather, the busy city, or the family gatherings."

"I can understand why."

I nodded but stayed quiet, as I didn't want to expand on the topic from my side. We'd dealt with enough of my family drama yesterday. Caleb tapped his fingers against his thigh.

"Whenever we had parties with my mom's relatives around the holidays, it always turned into a fight. My mom goes to bat for every racist generalization her family makes while they'll throw back that they're not racist and give examples that confirm their biased opinions about people's skills or work ethic. My dad tells her she doesn't have to, but she told me she does it because she loves him more than she cares about placating her parents."

I wasn't sure my folks would do that for each other, not that the situation would come up given that they both had Western European ancestry. But it showed how much Caleb's mom valued her husband. Love like that prickled my heart in both a pleasant and painful way.

It also irked me that people were such hypocrites. They ranted about 'foreigners' when their ancestors, and mine, had arrived as the first foreigners, forced Indigenous people off the land, stolen it with promises and treaties they never intended to keep, committed genocide with children as the main targets, enslaved people, and now complained about anyone entering 'their' country and reaping the benefits. If they should feel anything, it should be a drive to fight for a more equitable society. Or at the very least an attempt to understand what other people go through.

"That's awful your extended family acts that way, and I hope someday it stops. But your parents sound lovely."

That made him smile. "When it's only the four of us, it's the best."

I was happy he had that experience, though somewhat envious. Would I have turned out differently if I'd grown up surrounded by healthy love on a more regular basis? Or, as my mom theorized, would a sibling have helped me through my parent's words and actions like Caleb had done for me since his arrival?

As a kid, I'd watched my mother's criticism and outspokenness destroy my dad's confidence and send him off with curses under his breath. I'd also witnessed his distant nature and limited communication with her make my mom feel hopeless about the dreams they'd had when they got married, dreams she still wanted but only fulfilled once I'd grown up and visiting me gave them an excuse to travel.

I sympathized with my dad since she treated me similarly. A mistake was never forgotten in our house. She brought up things my dad, and I had broken over a decade ago or ways I'd tried to cook something wrong in a 'teasing' way. It chipped away your self-worth and made you want to avoid taking risks. Although both her sister and mom had spoken to her like that, my mom's abrasive nature was watered down from what she'd lived.

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