Treasured Gifts of Many

Chapter 4
Chapter Three

Chapter Description: May's parent comforts their oldest with a theory they had developed over the last two weeks. What they have to tell May would cause thing in the Bridge household to forever change.

Treasured Gifts Of May:

Chapter Three Jane stood outside the door leading to her oldest daughter’s room. She stood there for a long moment, a heavy conflict in her eyes. After nearly a minute of staring, she sighed and brought her hand up. Jane gently knocked on her daughter’s door as she spoke softly. “May? Can we see you in your dad’s den? There’s something we need to talk to you about.” Jane heard a groan followed by May’s voice. Jane noticed a whine in it. “Can it wait? I’m studying!” “Please, dear,” Jane pleaded softly. “This is important. You’re not in trouble-” Jane had to pause as she fought the cringe from erupting on her face at her choice of words. It sounded like she was talking to a child who had just had her first accident and was acting like her parents were about to scold her. “Your dad and I just need to talk to you, that’s all,” Jane continued calmly. Jane could hear May groan in a dramatic fashion, causing a frown to grow on the older Bridge’s face. “Fine! Just let me finish this chapter!” May groaned after a moment. “I’ll be down in a few minutes!” Jane stared at her daughter’s door for a long moment, then turned and walked down the hall. She looked as she passed her second daughter’s door. The door was open just enough that Jane saw the poster of a soccer player she didn’t know. She walked past Jay’s room and heard the sound of a video game playing, and her frown softened slightly. Jane stopped and looked back at May’s room. Unlike her younger siblings, May’s door lacked a personal flair, another mark of the adult May had tried to create for herself in the last year. Jane’s glance shifted between her three children’s rooms for a few seconds, feeling a hint of nostalgia in her heart. A small, nostalgic smile played against Jane’s lips as she slowly made her way down to the first floor and into Martin’s den. Jane’s husband’s den was set up more like an office space than a personal space that a man could escape to when the stress of family life became too much. There was a desk to the right of the door, with a small filing cabinet to the right of the workspace. To the left of the door was a small leather couch and a coffee table. Martin was sitting on the couch, his lower jaw twitching as he was deep in thought. The smile died on Jane’s face as she walked over to the couch. She took a seat to her husband’s left, gently taking his hand in hers. Jane could see the conflict that she was feeling reflected in her husband’s brown eyes, the same eyes their daughters had inherited, as Martin looked at her, his jaw settling into a small frown. For a long moment, the two sat in silence, both deep in their own thoughts. Both wanted to say something, but neither knew where to start. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, the silence was broken. “...Are you ready for what is to come?” Jane asked softly and simply. Martin looked his wife in the eyes, and through the conflict in them, Jane could see her husband’s resolve. “...No, but-” Martin said, sighing. “We can’t put this off any longer. We have watched her for over two weeks, and I think if we don’t act now, something bad could happen.” Jane frowned, the conflict in the gesture all too real. She understood where her husband was coming from, but was also afraid; what they were about to reveal to May would shatter her. Jane opened her mouth to say something when they heard the sounds of footsteps approaching. Martin looked Jane in the eyes for a moment, then sighed. He gently took his hand out of his wife’s grip and stood up. He moved over to the coffee end and gently pushed it until it rested against the wall opposite his work desk. Martin looked up at the trio of height charts that he had used to mark his children’s growth throughout the years. Martin’s eyes landed on the chart belonging to May, and his glance lingered on a fresh mark. The bridge’s head turned away from the wall when he heard a knock on his open door. He frowned as he watched May slink into the room, her gray-socked feet dragging against the floor. Martin silently studied his daughter, unaware of the snow-white sprinkles dancing in his eyes. May wore black shorts with the drawstrings tied tight. Even with those measures in place, Martin noticed the shorts still hanging off May’s body. Even the white T-shirt May was wearing looked comical on her small frame. Martin watched his eldest a little more, noticing her posture. May was guarded, her shoulders hitched up to her ears. She was hunched over slightly, just enough that her eyes were downcast so that she didn’t have to look at her parents but still keep them focused on where she was going. “May…” Martin said, tenderly and kindly, waving to his couch. “Take a seat. We need to talk.” May grumbled and rolled her eyes, but did as her father said. She flopped down onto the couch, crossing her arms and scowling. “Look,” May said quickly. “If you’re still stuck on what happened at dinner, I already said I was sorry. I even took him out for ice cream, which Michelle freeloaded off of. Beside it was like two weeks ago, get over it.” Jane and Martin exchanged looks, noticing that May muttered the last time to herself, but it was still loud enough that her parent heard her. “May,” Martin said softly, “This has nothing to do with what happened two weeks ago. Your mom and I think we know what’s going on with you.” May seemed to get defensive about this, her scowl deepening and her eyes narrowing into a glare filled with misplaced teenage rage. Her body tensed up, and her shoulders pulled back, trying to draw herself to her full height to look fierce. “There’s nothing wrong with me!” May exclaimed defensively. “I’m just stressed out and not eating right, that’s all.” Martin had to resist the urge to sigh. Typical teenage rebellion was on full display, and May didn’t even realize what she was doing. “...May,” Martin said slowly, “What’s happening isn’t caused by stress or miseating.” Martin paused and got closer to May, kneeling so he was eye level with his daughter. May missed the meaning behind the gesture, glaring at her father right in the eyes. “What I am about to say may sound crazy, but please try to keep an open mind.” Martin’s voice was soft, gentle, the kind of tone one takes when telling a young child they did nothing wrong. May, with some of her defenses lowered by her father’s tone, loosened her body. She gave her father her full, undivided attention. Martin’s jaw twitched as he took a moment to figure out the best way to say what needed to be said. “...I know how this sounds, but May, we think you’re getting younger,” Martin explained softly. “I think you're around 16, maybe 16 and a half at best.” May looked at her father, her face completely blank. She looked deeply into her father’s eyes and saw nothing but conviction in them. May slowly turned her head and saw the same conviction in her mother’s eyes. May looked back at her dad, blinked twice, then laughed. “Are you serious, Dad?!” May exclaimed in doubt. “People don’t suddenly start getting younger! That's bad fiction! And I would know; I am going to study classic literature in college.” May laughed again, causing Martin to frown slightly. The man could tell there was nothing behind his daughter’s laughter. It was completely forced, like May herself didn’t believe what she was saying. “May,” Martin interjected gently, “Remember two afternoons ago, when I asked to take your height for old times' sake?” May’s laughter died instantly, and she turned her attention to the chart on the wall. She stared at it for a moment, noticing the fresh mark on it, before turning to her father. In her stare, she was silently urging her father to continue, a hint of fear in her eyes. “I wasn’t being nostalgic,” Martin explained calmly. “I took an actual measurement. May…you’re about 3 centimeters shorter than you were during your sophomore year.” May stared at her father, and Martin saw it in his daughter’s glance. She wanted nothing more than to argue, to fight until her point was made clear. Jane also saw the defiance in her daughter’s eyes and stopped it by gently taking her daughter’s hand in her own. When Jane spoke, her voice was gentle, soothing even. It was the type of voice one uses on a child when they were afraid of something out of their control. “It’s not just her height, dear. Your moods had been nearly explosive since school ended. Just yesterday, you nearly lost your head because we were out of peach tea.” Jane paused, allowing her daughter to process everything. May’s eyes were darting, like she was frantically trying to figure out some kind of counter to use against her mother’s statement. She failed to find any. “Then there’s the way you've been holding yourself lately,” Jane continued, her voice dropping to a gentler tone. There's an awkwardness in your posture, like you don’t understand your body anymore.” Martin watched May closely. He could see the walls she had built up slowly crumbling. May was starting to shake as she looked down at her body, the fear in her eyes starting to turn into a panic. “And there’s your appetite,” Jane finished, her voice even gentler than before. “Just last night, you ate nearly three helpings of my casserole, and you don’t like my casserole.” Martin waited, watching as the last bit of May’s defenses began to crumble. He could tell she still wanted to put up a fight, but was finding it hard to come up with a counter that could defuse everything her parents have been telling her. “May…” Martin added softly, “These are signs of a hormonal teenager in mid-to-late-stage development. And we should know.” May’s walls came falling down at that point. She wanted nothing more than to fight back, to say everything her parents were telling her was just related to stress. Yet, any argument she could think of died before it could fully form. Yes, May realized, her parents would know the behavior she was showing now; they had lived through it just a few short years ago with her. The redhead looked down at her hand, the one her mother was holding. May’s breath hitched in her throat as she realized the gesture felt different than just a few weeks ago. Her mother’s hands felt bigger, stronger even. She then thought back to earlier in the day. May remembered back to when she got up this morning, and how bigger her bed felt to her. She remembered the struggle to find something to wear that didn’t make her look like some kid riding her big sister’s closet. Even her chair at her study desk felt different. “I…I’m scared,” May said, voice tiny and terrified. “Mom, Dad? What’s happening to me?” The Bridges parents’ hearts broke as they watched their daughter curl into herself, making her look smaller than she already did. May looked between her mother and father, desperate to find answers to the questions she wanted. Unfortunately, neither Jane nor Martin could give their daughter any answers. “Oh, May,” Jane moaned, wrapping her arms around her daughter. “We don’t know what’s happening to you. But know you don’t have to face this alone. Your family will always be by your side.” The words comfort May slightly, and she relaxed into her mother’s embrace. Martin watched this scene with a heavy heart. He knew he would need to tell May the other reason why she was called into his den. He could imagine it wouldn’t go over so well. Jane most had sensed her husband’s growing anxieties; she looked at him with her eyes. They had talked about it for nearly an hour, and while it was decided that Martin would take the hit to come, it still hurt Jane knowing what her husband was about to endure. “...May,” Martin said softly, “There’s something else we need to talk to you about.” May looked up at her father. She noticed the serious expression he was sporting and gave him her full attention. Jane, knowing what was about to come, pushed herself away from May, but kept herself within arm's length. “Because of what’s happening to you,” Martin said slowly, “I made a hard decision. This morning I called Harvard and told them that you have a sudden medical emergency. They deferred your enrollment for a year.” In an instant, the fragile teenager was gone, replaced with an enraged girl. Her head snapped back as she had just slapped, her eyes wide. Her jaw clenched, and teeth bared as she growled at her father.. “YOU DID WHAT!!” May screamed. She jumped to her feet, glaring at her father with the force of a red-hot sun. Martin had expected this outcome, standing perfectly at ease despite the anger coming off of May. “You had no right to do that!” May screeched, her voice cracking. “I worked four years for that scholarship! You can’t just take it away like taking one of Jay’s toys when he's been bad!” By the end of her rant, May’s body had gone completely rigid. She was clenching and unclenching her fists, like she wanted to lash out and strangle her father. She was breathing heavily through clenched teeth, letting out a slight hiss. Martin was unaffected, but kept his distance from his enraged daughter. “May, please,” Martin pleaded softly. “We don’t know how far this would go. Harvard is practically all the way across the county. What if you go and continue-” Martin paused, mouth twitching. He tried to figure out the best term to use that didn’t sound degrading to May’s currently enraged mind. “What if you go and continue to shrink?” Martin continued softly. “Bethany would be the only person you know in a room full of strangers. It’s the only decision I could make in such a weird time.” The answer didn’t placate May, though Martin knew it wouldn’t. If anything, May was more enraged than before. Her jaw was clenched so tight, it was a wonder why she hadn’t chipped a few teeth. May’s fists were balled tight, and she was shaking with barely contained rage. “Well, DAAAD!” May hissed. “Your decision is ruining my LIFE!!” Jane decided it was time to come to her husband’s aid and slowly rose to her feet. She gently placed a hand on May’s shoulder, though the enraged teen didn’t notice. “May-Flower,” Jane said softly into her daughter’s ear. “Please try to understand where we’re coming from with all of this.” May snapped her head around, growling as her face turned red. Jane realized her slip-up then and there. May-Flower has been a childhood nickname Jane had used with May throughout her entire childhood. May had fought with her mother when she turned sixteen to have her drop the name, figuring she was getting too old for such childish things. So hearing her mother call her that so easily just didn’t feel like a slap in the face. It felt like everything she had worked so hard over the last four years hadn’t even happened. “STOP TREATING ME LIKE A LITTLE GIRL!!! May screamed, throwing her arms up. “I’M A GROWN UP!!” The irony was lost on May; the sentence she just screamed sounded more like a child throwing a fit than a young adult trying to argue her point. Before anyone could get another word in, May bolted out of the room.

“MAY!” Jane called after her oldest. May wasn’t listening, too lost in her own rage to hear anything. She nearly knocked Michelle over in her haste to leave, as the middle Bridge child had been eavesdropping since she heard May scream earlier. “MOVE IT!!” May shrieked at her sister. The mother was about to go after May, but Martin stopped her by putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked at her husband, ready to snap at him for stopping her from comforting her daughter. The look in Martin’s eyes stopped her cold. The look said so much, and though reluctant, Jane knew what her husband was suggesting was right. May was in such an enraged state to listen to reason. It hurt knowing this, but it hurt more knowing that trying to comfort her daughter could only make matters worse. So Jane decided it was best to give her daughter the space to decompress. But Jane made a promise to herself then and there; when May needed her the most, no matter the outcome, she would be there for her daughter, ready for whatever lies ahead. (SC) May ran into her room, slamming the door shut, and fell against it. She held her chest, heart beating against her ribs so fiercely that blood rushed to her ears, giving off a slight ringing. May tried to center her breathing, but it was too much. Everything she had just learned ran through her mind like a raging storm. She grabbed her head, trying to banish every single thought from her head, but just couldn’t. May felt the crushing weight against her shoulders, pulling her down to the floor. Her face fell into her hands, and she wept silently into her palms. She felt overwhelmed by everything, and couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. “Why…WHY!?” May suddenly screamed into the room. “I did nothing wrong! Why is that happening to me?!”