“I’m only twenty-four. Plenty of time on my biological clock.”
Mom rolls her eyes as she clutches her Chanel tighter. “I stopped by on my way to the salon.”
“Right. Heaven forbid you have grey hairs in your fifties.”
Mom’s face pinches with disapproval. “Just you wait, young lady. Old age comes for us all.”
“Is that why you’re here? To remind me I’m getting older, and my biological clock is ticking?”
“No.” Mom’s flustered snap is so damn rewarding, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning. Without Dad as backup, she’s never been able to get a one-up on me. Not since high school. “I’m here to tell you that you’re meeting with Brent.”
Not this again.
“Don’t waste your breath. The answer’s still no.”
Mom sighs, and it’s like I can see her mentally pivoting. Her voice loads with sweetness as she says, “Daphne, honey. I know you and Brent had a rough start to your relationship, but I think it’s time you clear the air.”
“The air’s been clear, Mom. I’m not speaking to him ever again.”
“Daphne, that’s childish.”
“Call it what you want. Still not talking to him.”
Mom heaves a heavy sigh like the fate of the world depends on me meeting with my rapist. “Your father needs you to meet with him.”
“Dad’s a grown man. He can meet with Brent.”
“We can’t.” The sweetness vanishes with a hiss. “We told you, your father can’t be seen associating with a senator from other parties with the election coming up. Your father needs Brent to persuade some of the other senators to push this bill through before the election.”
“I’m not doing anything to help that bill,” I huff. “I hope it dies.”
Mom shakes her head. “You have no idea what you’re wishing for. If this bill doesn’t pass, your father’s in trouble with some dangerous people.”
“Maybe Dad shouldn’t have written checks his fat ass can’t cash.”
Mom scowls. “The only one in this family with a fat ass is you, Daphne.”
“Mother, that’s childish,” I mimic.
Mom’s eyebrows scrunch so hard, she nearly dislocates her Botox. “Daphne, I didn’t want to do this, but you left me no choice. You speak to Brent. Put that mess behind you. Or we cut you off.”
Excuse me?
Mom’s got me by the lady balls this time. “This house? Gone. You can’t afford the rent on your own since we’re paying half of it.” Mom sneers. She’s getting too much joy at the thought of her only daughter and fur grandchild being homeless. “Think you can afford your own place with that public servant salary? And you’d have to find a place that will accept pets. There’s nothing close to work you could afford. So, dear, if you want to keep your lifestyle afloat, I suggest you do as we tell you. And if you don’t, your father might whisper in Paul’s ear and give him cause to fire you.”
My stomach swirls with betrayal and anger. But no surprise. No, I’d expect Mom to stoop this low to get her way. “You’d make me homeless? Because I won’t talk to my rapist?”
“Stop it,” Mom snaps. “That didnothappen. Stop saying it did. Stop playing that pathetic victim card.” Mom turns on her heels but stops. “Brent’s been invited to your father’s campaign fundraiser. We had someone slip to the press that you two had gotten back together, so they could at least be in the same room. He’ll look like the supportive boyfriend. You’ll be there. You’ll speak to him in public, with cameras to see it. You’ll smile. You’ll laugh if he makes a joke. And you’ll dowhateverBrent asks to get him to push this bill through for your father.”
What am I? A damn sex worker? Is my mom my pimp? Tears burn the back of my eyeballs as my throat squeezes tight.
“Does it bother you, Mom?” I ask. “That Dad loves his job more than he’s ever loved his family?”
Mom freezes in place for a fleeting moment before she composes herself, anger flashing in her eyes.
Without a word, she struts her way outof the home she made me sign a lease to, so I’d keep up appearances. The type of home I couldn’t afford on my pitiful salary. And being stuck under Senator Furt’s thumb, there’s no upward momentum for me on the Hill. I want out of politics, but where else would I go?
I could survive with roommates. But most landlords won’t accept a puppy.
