I snort. “Why should I?”
“Because it can’t go on like this. You can’t turn away from us like this. We’re a family.” She impatiently shifts from one foot to the other.
I laugh out loud, making a sound of surprise and disbelief. “Since when?”
“Jase, you’re impossible. Let me in so we can talk.” She takes a step forward, but I refuse to take even a single step back.
“You can just tell me what it is you have to say and then leave again,” I suggest dispassionately.
Mom sighs. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But your father and I only want what’s best for you and—”
“Dad only wants to get his way. That has nothing to do with what’s best for me,” I say, interrupting her sharply.
“Your father wants a secure future for you. He wants you to finish an education that you can build your life on. That doesn’t mean you have to study medicine. But even you have to admit that dancing won’t give you the same security as a degree from Harvard.”
“What about Lia?” The question bursts out of me before I can stop it. I’ve been asking myself the same thing for ages, and maybe it’s about time that I get a goddamn answer. “She’s allowed to dance. You’re even paying her tuition. Why should it be any different for me?”
Mom sighs again and runs her hand over her beige trench coat to smooth out a nonexistent wrinkle. “Jase, can’t we discuss this in your room?”
“No, we cannot.”
“Your sister was four years old when she started ballet. Even then, she had exceptional talent; you know that.”
Yes, I know that. I was there. But it’s not an answer to my question. “I have talent too. Which you might know if you ever watched me.”
“Besides, you also know that Lia’s career won’t last forever,” Mom continues, as though I hadn’t said a thing. “She’s been with Archie so long that it can’t be much longer until they get married. Then she’ll have kids, and she can concentrate on being a mother. Just like she’s always wanted.”
There’s so much wrong with those few sentences that I wonder if it’s really my mother standing there or just a clone of the woman who raised me.
“Lia wants to dance,” I finally reply. “And if anyone has shown us that it’s possible to have kids and a career, it’s you.”
“My situation was completely different back then. And Lia isgoing to be a Goodwin. You know how important Archie’s family is in Boston. She’s going to have other responsibilities.”
“You mean producing children and showing up at charity events, looking pretty and smiling nicely? That kind of thing?”
“Please don’t be so cynical, Jase. Besides, this isn’t about your sister and her future; it’s about you. As I said, you don’t have to study medicine if you don’t want to, but we had hoped that one day you would take over the clinic.”
“I’m not Sam,” I say between clenched teeth. A stabbing pain pierces my heart. It’s old and familiar, and it hasn’t gone away after five years. “He wanted that. I never did! I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you.”
“You’re not,” she replies, but we both know that it’s not the truth. “But if I had known you would be so fixated on dancing, I never would have sent you to ballet lessons and...” she stops as she realizes she’s gone too far this time.
I’m filled with a stoic sense of calm. “Then why did you pay the tuition for the first year even though Dad would have preferred it if I were out on the street? And why did you try to pay the second year, before Dad caught you?”
I don’t add that if it weren’t for East, I really would have been out on the street. Even though part of me wants her to know, a bigger part doesn’t want to show weakness.
Mom barely flinches and quickly regains her composure. “Because I was hoping that you’d realize for yourself that this place isn’t right for you. You don’t belong here.”
She’s lying to me, I know that, but it doesn’t matter. I can ask as many times as I want, but she’ll never tell me the truth. Because then she’d have to turn against Dad.
“No, I belong at Harvard,” I say, my voice dripping with irony. I’m still clinging to the doorknob so hard that it hurts. “You should leave.”
“No, I won’t go. I want us to be a family again.”
“Then good luck fixing everything you’ve screwed up over the last few years.” I’m about to slam the door in her face, but Mom is quicker. She slides her foot into the doorframe and stops me.
“Jase, please.” There’s a sound of desperation in her voice that I’ve never heard before. She’s about to say something else, but someone interrupts her.
“Mom? What are you doing here?”
