Chapter 8

The next morning, June awoke with a lingering sense of guilt. She grabbed her phone and checked to see if Donna had texted her to say she got home safe, as was their routine. But there was no message from Donna about that. Instead, there was a text about an upcoming work event that Donna wanted to attend, and as usual, she was asking June to be her plus-one. Donna's husband, Don, never went to work events, soccer games, or any social gathering that made him uncomfortable, so it had become second nature for June to accompany Donna instead.

Donna also mentioned how excited June had been the night before when talking about her Google project, noting that things seemed to be looking up as the team overcame some tough challenges. The project involved moving an old legacy platform into the new Google Cloud environment, and the progress had been hard-won. June appreciated the acknowledgment and thanked Donna for the info, though she couldn’t help but complain about the persistent stomach bug that had left her feeling off-kilter.

June hadn’t even made it into work until 9:30 a.m. that morning, later than usual, because of how poorly she had felt. Strangely, her body had seemed almost determined to vomit, something that happened so rarely to her that she often boasted about having a "stomach of steel." But despite her reluctance, her body had insisted otherwise. By the evening, the discomfort returned, and she found herself texting Donna again, describing the sensation as if she’d been punched in the gut every time she tried to eat, even something as mild as a banana or a few crackers.

Donna, ever the sympathetic friend, shared a bit about her own experiences with stomach issues. She recalled how, when she was a child, her mother would give her saltines when she was sick. Even though her mother knew Donna had Celiac’s disease and couldn’t eat bread, for some reason, she thought saltines would be okay. Of course, the crackers only made Donna feel worse. Her mother, well-meaning but often out of touch with what her daughter truly needed, would quarantine Donna to her room and Lysol the whole house, as if Celiac’s disease were contagious. Donna spoke of her mother with a mix of affection and resignation, calling her "flighty" but always insisting she did her best.

June couldn’t muster the same generosity toward Donna’s mother. It bothered her that someone could be so oblivious to their child’s needs, especially when it came to something as fundamental as food. She was still struck by the idea that Donna had been given saltines—loaded with gluten—when she was already so sick. But Donna took it in stride, suggesting that June try the BRAT diet.  Minus the toast, so there was no gluten involved, this had often worked for her.

June took Donna’s advice and tried some applesauce, then some rice. Surprisingly, it seemed to help. Maybe there was something to this BRAT diet after all. Donna expressed her empathy for June’s situation, having been through many such days herself. But this time, it was June’s turn to brush off the sympathy, insisting that she was fine, even though she knew Donna’s concern was genuine. The day passed with June managing her discomfort as best she could, grateful for Donna’s support but eager to shake off the lingering illness.

A few days later, Hadrian packed up and took Evelyn with him on his annual trip to Phoenix. The visit was to see Pete, his good-looking Asian friend who used to work alongside him as a bouncer at a dance club back in the day. Pete had also been an usher at their wedding, and over the years, he had become like family. Hadrian had the kids call him Uncle Pete because, to him, Pete was more like a brother than a friend. Every February, Hadrian made it a point to visit Pete, a tradition that had become special to him.

While Hadrian and Evelyn were away, back home, Elizabeth had her first Forensics Meet. June was filled with a mix of pride and nerves as Elizabeth got ready to go. No parents were permitted at school per the current COVID safety protocol, so only the students, coaches, and the judges were allowed. June heard that Elizabeth performed her monologue with poise and confidence, but in the end, she narrowly missed out on winning. The reason? Her teacher had given her the wrong length of time for her piece.

June’s heart broke for Elizabeth, knowing how much effort she had put into preparing. But Elizabeth, ever the resilient one, took it in stride. She couldn’t bring herself to be mad at her favorite teacher, the one who had encouraged her to join forensics in the first place. As June watched her daughter’s quiet acceptance, she couldn’t help but notice how much this teacher resembled Elizabeth’s first Montessori school teacher—the one who had cared for her so tenderly from when she was just 18 months old until she was three.

At the same time, June was grappling with mounting pressure at work. Her Google Cloud project at GeoMetric was hitting one roadblock after another, and the stress was beginning to take its toll. June had always prided herself on delivering projects on time, meeting—or even exceeding—expectations. But this time, things were different. The project was slipping through her fingers, and she could feel the frustration from her stakeholders growing. The head of her department, a woman with a sharp, direct style, made no effort to hide her displeasure. Her blunt criticism left June feeling anxious and rattled, the weight of the project’s delays pressing down on her shoulders. The combination of personal and professional challenges made this a particularly tough time for June, who was used to being in control but now found herself struggling to keep everything together.

The following Tuesday, June found herself sitting on a phone call with Solin during their regular session, feeling the familiar comfort of her therapist’s calm presence on the other end of the line. The weight of the previous week was heavy on her mind, and she needed to unpack it.

June began by recounting her latest dinner with Donna, explaining how exhausting it was to keep trying to conjure up romantic feelings that just weren’t there. "I’m tired of pretending, Solin," she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. "I care about Donna deeply, but it’s not the kind of love she wants. I just want us to be best friends—like sisters, not lovers."

Solin listened intently as June spoke. When June finally paused, Solin asked the question she had likely been waiting to hear. "What do you plan to do about it?"

June took a deep breath. "I’m going to set a boundary around our friendship, once and for all, when we meet for Happy Hour and dinner tomorrow. This time, I’m serious. It’s going to stick."

Solin’s voice softened as she responded. "It sounds like a necessary step, but setting boundaries isn’t always easy, especially with someone as close to you as Donna. How are you feeling about it?"

June hesitated before replying. "Honestly? I’m scared. Not just about this boundary with Donna, but about everything. I’ve been feeling happier lately, but I’m afraid it’s just mania creeping back in. What if it turns into something I can’t control?"

Solin paused before continuing, her voice gentle but firm. "June, it’s important to distinguish between genuine happiness and mania. They’re not the same, though I understand why you might be worried. Keep monitoring yourself, and if you start to feel concerned, reach out—whether to me or others you trust. Involving outside perspectives can help you stay grounded."

June nodded, absorbing Solin’s advice. She felt a bit more reassured but knew that the real test would come in following through with her plan. Before their session ended, June also mentioned that she had set the date for her hysterectomy. It was scheduled for early March, and she had arranged to take two weeks off from work to recover. The thought of finally addressing her physical pain brought a mix of relief and anxiety.

Solin acknowledged this upcoming milestone with a supportive validation. "It sounds like you’re taking important steps for your well-being, June. Both physically and emotionally. Remember to be kind to yourself through this process."

As June left the session, she felt a sense of determination. The boundary with Donna, the upcoming surgery, her fears about happiness—these were all things she would have to face head-on. But for the first time in a long while, she felt a flicker of hope that she could manage it all, one step at a time.

The only people who get upset at your setting boundaries are those who were benefiting by your having none.

-Unknown