“I told you I was fine,” I mumble. But I’m busted, and now I can’t avoid Mom. I could probably create a diversion by telling her Shah Rukh Khan is here and run out the front door while she’s looking for him. But I would never be able to return.
I should probably just deal with this now.
“No. You texted me you were fine. Which is exactly what a kidnapper would text me if they had taken you.”
I pause to let her hear what she just said. When she doesn’t, I ask, “Do you hear you?”
“Yes. Butyoucan’t hear me when you ignore my calls.”
“Mom, I quit. Which means you can’t bug me during the business day anymore.”
“You can’t quit being my daughter, beta,” Mom says gently.
She comes to the couch and sits down next to me. She takes stock of the table in front of me with spread-out industry magazines and a bottle of wine, and restrains herself from commenting on what’s in front of her.
But I can hear her think the judgment. Just like I can hear Sonia think sassy things at me.
“I heard what your dad did.”
The pity in her voice makes me lose the grip I have on my emotions, and I take a page out of my old playbook and crawl directly into my mom’s lap.
Or as far into her lap as I can get. I’m a bit bigger than the last time I attempted it.
“I know, beta. I’m sorry your father did that to you. He was wrong.”
“It’s not fair. I worked so hard so he would be proud.” I swallow the lump in the back of my throat, managing to keep the tears from leaking out.
Just barely.
“I know how hard you worked. And I know it’s not as exciting, butI’mso proud of you.” She runs her hands down my hair in comfort, snagging on some tangles on the way. I know she feels bad for me because she doesn’t nag me to brush my hair right now.
“I knowyou’reproud. You always told me. Dad never did.”
“Sorry I wasn’t more withholding,” Mom says in what she must think is under her breath. “I let your father have it,” she says louder. “I told him he’s completely wrong to treat you like he does.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s never going to change. And I don’t even care.”
“Yes. I see that you don’t care at all.”
Ouch. Sarcasm from my mother. This is not what I needed today.
“People want me, Mom. I have Sotheby’s and Christie’s banging down my electronic door, begging me to say yes to them.”
“Of course you do. You’re my daughter.”
“And I quit. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”
“You can quit if you want,” Mom says carefully. “Or you cannotquit.”
“I’m not going be treated like this anymore. I won’t stand for it.” The words are confident but the quivering tone belies the confidence.
“No. You shouldn’t have to. But you and your father forget that Loot is mine. My father started it.”
“So?” I’m confused as to what she’s trying to say. Of course I know Nana started the company.
“So he left it to me and only me. Your father, and all you kids, work for me.”
That’s a weird dynamic I never would have guessed. “But no one ever said anything.” Dad certainly walks around like he’s the boss.
