That’s why Alexa felt a little guilty about her explosion this morning. Sylvie had been ranting about another one of her mother’s disapproving comments on her recent decision to change jobs from being a nurse to a daycare assistant. Sylvie didn’t know if she wanted kids, so she thought it would be a good idea to be around them more and see if she would go crazy or not. As a nurse, she sometimes dealt with kids, but she didn’t have a say in her rotation on what kind of patients she interacted with. Sylvie’s mother, of course, felt that being a nurse had a higher status, more pay – fair point -, and greater potential to snag a doctor to settle down with to start a family – sooner was better than later, in her opinion. Having just turned 30, it was understandable that her mother would have some concern, but really 30 was the new 20 and there was still plenty of time either way to do whatever Sylvie wanted.

It was as Sylvie was claiming her independence and right to make her own decisions no matter what age she is that Alexa had let her boiling pot spill over. 

“Guess you should have been adopted, after all,” Alexa had said with a current of attitude that stopped Sylvie mid sentence.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.” Alexa tried to wave it off already regretting that she hadn’t managed to withhold her growing bitterness.

“No, you definitely meant something by that. Tell me what you mean.” Sylvie had demanded with a look that Alexa knew meant she wasn’t going to be able to brush off.

“It’s just that you seem to think that I don’t have any problems because I’m adopted and just because I don’t think I want to have children that I can’t understand what you’re going through. Just now, you said it again – how it’s easy for me because I have already decided not to have children. You just make it sound like I wouldn’t understand. My life isn’t an excuse. It’s also not something for you to throw back in my face as a way of justifying your frustrations.”

“Oh. My. God. Are you for real right now?”

“You don’t get it. Whatever.”

“No! Nuh-uh, you don’t get to drop that and then say ‘whatever’ like that. YOU know that I’m struggling with this. YOU know how much pressure my mom puts on me. Plus, she’s desperate for me to get married, but I can’t even begin to think about that until I know if I even want to have kids. It IS easy for you because you know you don’t want kids and because you’re adopted, you don’t have that pressure to pass on your genes.”

“See! That’s exactly my point. How can you say that? Just because my parents are biologically connected to me doesn’t mean that I don’t have pressure or that I don’t rethink my decision daily. But, most importantly, it’s not for YOU to tell me that or to assume it! Don’t dismiss me, my life, or my decisions to make yourself feel better!”

“Wow! Well, you know what Alexa, it’s my turn – WHATEVER!” 

With that, Sylvie had thrown down the kitchen towel she was holding from drying her hands after doing the breakfast dishes and stormed out. Alexa flinched as she heard the door slam to Sylvie’s bedroom.

They had been friends and roommates since university. From their first meeting in the dorm during their sophomore year, they had vowed to be best friends forever for the rest of their lives. Even though they could have moved in with boyfriends, or back home with their parents, they had continued to be roommates since graduating. They had taken turns covering rent when one or the other was struggling to avoid having to live separately. Neither of them had ever considered any other arrangement. They even somewhat idealistically believed they would always be roommates or at the very least next door neighbors.

In the near decade of their friendship, they had only had a few arguments and they always made up halfway through by making each other laugh. So, the fact that Sylvie had actually stormed off, and Alexa had made no effort to diffuse the situation, was serious for them.

Of course, Alexa knew that all she had to do was apologize and bring a bottle of prosecco as a white flag, and they would be fine again. However, as she sipped her cold coffee, she could feel herself still steaming and wasn’t sure that she could take that step. So, she was stewing in the cafe waiting it out until Sylvie left for her nursing night shift. It would buy her time until morning to have to make peace.