Then she spoke to the hallway, which I noticed held Marissa and Rose. “And all of you are my family.” She took a steadying breath. “Although I would be lying if I didn’t say I also want my parents to accept me and want to be a part of my life too.” She gave a sad shrug.
I lowered my head, bringing my face closer to hers. “Want me to come with you to New York?” I would do it. I would drop everything to go help her face this battle.
She smiled. “I appreciate it, but I think this is one I need to face alone.” She put her hand on my cheek. “Besides, Danny and your basketball team will need you here.”
Every part of me wanted to take this fight away from her. To march in and demand her parents be kind to her and recognize the amazing person she was.
But this wasn’t a wound I could solve.
I sighed. I knew Faith needed this; she needed to face her past.
And I needed to trust that she would come back to me after she did.
Chapter Thirty-Two
FAITH
Ididn’t know if I was being brave or going to jinx myself, but I packed only a backpack of clothes for my trip home. Maybe I was trying to assure myself that I would come back. Although, let’s be honest, my parents could replace everything I owned without a second thought.
I shook out my hands and took a deep breath as I climbed up the steps into one of Luxe’s private jets.
I’d never been able to truly defy my mother before, but I guess there was a first time for everything. Or maybe Dad wouldn’t be as indifferent as before?
Stepping into the jet, I was met by my mother’s assistant, Janice. She gave me the same curt smile as years ago. “Astrid.” She nodded for me to follow her in her black tailored dress suit and with her hair slicked back into a high ponytail. It looked so tight, I imagined she had to have a headache. “Meredith instructed me to assemble a full team and ensure you look presentable once we land.” She gestured around the cabin, which held at least fifteen other people I didn’t recognize. That part didn’t surprise me; my mother changed wardrobe and hair assistants faster than the trendscould keep up with. That she believed it took an army and an entire flight to make me look “presentable” was slightly offensive.
I glanced down at my yoga pants and soft blue sweater. My hair was up in a loose, messy bun. This was the real me, and I didn’t want to change back to who I had been. Was this the first step of many I would concede on? Or do I start by standing my ground from the start? I rubbed my forehead; I thought I would at least get the flight to New York until I had to be brave. But I should have known better. I bit my bottom lip.
Janice leaned in. “Meredith also informed me that if you didn’t comply, to let you know she would refuse your new business idea you plan on proposing.” Janice cleared her throat and looked to the side. “If you are choosing to return to Luxe, I’m afraid you must look the part.” Her eyes went over my hair and clothes, and she shrugged.
“And if I am just trying to see my parents and nothing else?” I wasn’t sure there was a difference between the two, but I was hoping there was. This was more than I had resisted anyone associated with my parents before, and although I was proud of my newfound strength, I could feel my hands shaking and my stomach filling with nausea.
Janice leaned in close and whispered, “Then I might add that whatever you are hoping to accomplish, it will be much easier if you choose your battles wisely.”
“Spoken like a woman who knows my mother well.”
Janice hid a smile and cleared her throat.
“Well, let’s get this over with.” I sighed. Choosing my battles was wise. This wasn’t one that was worth the stress.
Janice stepped behind me and gestured me forward, and the assembled makeover team headed behind the curtains beyond my view. I followed them and grimaced at the piles of tools, machines, and product. I could remember the hours with similar torture devices before, but I had gotten so used to my easy routine of a little light makeup and simple hairstyles.
“Choose your battles.” I murmured under my breath. “For Hillsdale.” I closed my eyes and was led to the first station.
Over the next several hours, I felt like Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality. I was waxed, tweezed, dyed, and dressed up to be someone I no longer recognized in the mirror. Something that seemed more product than person.
Although I would never admit it to my mother, I loved the new hairstyle, not that I got to choose it. It was full of subtle highlights and now rested below my collarbone. Also, these leopard print heels weren’t bad either. I’m keeping these for enduring her makeover torture.
As the plane landed, I thanked and gave a quick hug to everyone who was assigned to help with my current status. Each stiffened and glanced around in fear before they gave a small smile and a nod in return. I knew my mother would hate to see me “talking with the help,” but I refused to be that person. Each of these people gave of their time and expertise, and I was grateful for it.
The door opened, and before I went onto the first step, the clicking of cameras reached my ears and the reporters started yelling over one another to be answered.
“Astrid, where have you been?”
“Astrid, have you been sick?”
My hands shook, and nausea climbed up my throat. My mind recalled years of flashing lights, cameras, and questions yelled in my direction.
I took a deep breath, held it for three, and slowly blew out. I spun my anxiety ring and took another deep breath. “Okay, suck in your screams.”
