“Hi, Hannah. It’s Olivia,” she says in a low, raspy voice. Oddly, there is no trace of a Texas accent.

I take a deep breath and say, “So this is sort of a long story, but I’m just going to come out with it.” I pause, then force myself to say the rest. “Your father had an affair with my best friend’s mother. We went over to Ashley’s house today to tell her about it. It was a bad scene, and I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

There is silence on the end of the line, and I wonder if she’s hung up on me.

Then she clears her throat and says, “I’m confused. When, exactly, did my father have this affair?” Her voice is strangely calm.

“Um. Well…Lainey’s thirty-two now,” I say. “So I guess it started, like, thirty-three, maybe thirty-four years ago?”

“Ohh. So are you saying that…Lainey is my sister?”

“I’m sorry, yes,” I say, realizing I left out the most important part.

“Wow,” she whispers. “Wow.”

“I know this must be so hard to hear.”

“Yeah,” she says under her breath. “I can’t…I’m just a little shocked right now.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. About the affair and all.”

“It’s okay. That’s not your fault, obviously,” she says.

I stare into the distance, shocked by her ability to show any grace in this moment.

She asks me a few questions about our meeting with Ashley, and I tell her everything, right down to getting thrown out of the house.

“Yikes,” Olivia says.

“Yes. We should have left as soon as we realized your mother was there.”

“Yeah. I feel bad for her…. But I’m not surprised that Ashley handled it so poorly. She’s not one to rise to the occasion.”

I pause, then say, “So y’all aren’t close?”

“No. Not at all.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Family dynamics can be so complicated.”

“Yeah. And politics don’t make it any easier,” she says.

“True,” I murmur noncommittally.

My political views have always been moderate—falling under the “why can’t we all just get along” umbrella—but in the past several years, I’ve discovered that middle of the road is no longer safe terrain. Both extremes will eventually come for you. The good news is that having a deeply self-absorbed mother has taught me a lot of survival skills. I know how to appease just about anyone on any topic, including politics.

“I’m not really speaking to anyone in my family right now,” Olivia continues. “In part because of politics.”

Trying to show empathy, I blurt out that I don’t get along with my mother. “She’s a bit of a narcissist,” I say.

“Are the two of you estranged?”

“No. But at the moment, she’s not talking to me.”

“Ah. The good ol’ silent treatment. Been there, done that.”

“With your mother?”

“No. With Ashley. But my mother enables her.”

“That’s what my father does,” I say, thinking about the years of manipulation I’ve witnessed. “Everything is always about my mother. It’s like he doesn’t exist apart from her.”

“Yes. Exactly. Ashley has to be the center of attention. She was always jealous if I was happy, but when I got upset about something, that was an issue, too. If I was tired, she was flat-out exhausted. If I was sick, she was certain she had inoperable cancer. And God forbid my feelings be hurt about anything she said or did. Because that made her feel bad.”

“Oh, wow. You’re describing my mother to a T,” I say.

“Yep. It’s all straight out of the narcissist’s playbook.”

“Why are they like that?” I say.

“I don’t know. I’ve read all the books. I follow all those accounts on Instagram. And I still don’t fully get it. Their mentality is so sick.”

I tell her that I follow similar accounts—and sometimes they just randomly show up in my algorithm.

“Do you follow Lee Hammock?” Olivia asks.

“Yes! Mental Healness! He’s a hoot,” I say.

“Yeah, he cracks me up,” she says, then does a perfect imitation of him.

I laugh as she continues, saying, “But no matter how much you study their behavior and analyze the patterns and employ the ‘gray rock method,’ you just have to accept that they’re never going to change. They simply can’t.”

“I know.” I sigh.

“Which is why boundaries are so important.”

“Yes,” I say, suddenly feeling a bit blown away that we are having such a deep conversation right out of the gate.

“So,” Olivia says, her tone brightening. “Please tell me Lainey isn’t self-absorbed, too?”

“Oh my goodness, not at all! She has a huge heart.” I hesitate, then say, “It’s probably a little TMI, but my fiancé cheated on me, and Lainey was the first person I called. She came running to be with me, booking a last-minute flight to Atlanta.”

“God. That sounds traumatic,” Olivia says. “I’m really sorry.”

“Thank you. It was traumatic,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Thank God I have Lainey. She’s such a special person and dear friend. I couldn’t have gotten through the past week without her. Truly.”

“Oh, wow. This just happened?”

“Yes,” I say. “It’s part of the reason why we’re here. Lainey and I and another college friend. We realized that it wasn’t just me who needed to get away. Lainey had family stuff to confront—and our friend Tyson is also at a crossroads in his career and relationship. So the three of us decided to take some time to travel together.”