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“Thanks, mom,” she mumbled.
“I know money’s tight, darling,” she said, leading her up the walkway.
Elena wished that sometimes her parents would just help her out without making such a show of helping her out. It was bad enough to count on other people for help, but when they made you feel helpless and incapable, it just increased the humiliation of having to take their help at all. She followed her mother into the house, and after a small obligatory chat, she excused herself and walked up to what used to be her room.
It no longer resembled the room that Elena had when she was growing up. When she had lived there, three of the four walls had been a bright turquoise blue. The fourth wall had nothing pushed up against it. It was left free and clear so that whenever Elena felt a surge of artistic inspiration, she could go to work on the wall, transforming it into whatever she felt like in that moment. She had changed that wall eleven times over the course of her adolescence, alone.
After she had moved out, her parents had promptly turned her room into the uniform beige and white interior that pervaded through the rest of the house. Elena put down her small suitcase, filled with just enough for her two-night stay. Already, she felt the familiar sense of claustrophobia that usually settled over her whenever she was close to her family.
She managed to stay in her room until evening, but eventually she forced herself downstairs. She heard her parents’ voices from the kitchen and the higher, shriller pitch that belonged to her sister. Elena sighed in resignation and walked in. They turned to her with big smiles and bright faces and she felt a momentary prick of guilt for how badly she wished to be away from them.
Her father was a tall, balding man with a generous potbelly and twinkling, warm, dark brown eyes. Emily looked just like their mother, dressed in beige and tailored to perfection. They looked like they could be in an elite clothing catalogue or something. After she had hugged and kissed her father and sister, she settled around the massive, black marble, kitchen island with them.
“Juice, darling?” her mother asked.
“No, thank you,” Elena replied politely.
“It’s so good – try some,” Bridget insisted.
“I’m not in the mood, Mom,” Elena said. She had to work a little harder to be polite this time.
“How’s work?” her father asked in his deep baritone.
Louis Parker was an impressive man. He had been born wealthy, but stayed that way by being smart, shrewd, and unapologetic about his fortune. He had married a woman who was just like his mother, and perfected the life that his parents had lived before him. He had been blessed with twin daughters, but only one of them was wired the same way that he was. Sometimes Elena felt that his disappointment was the hardest to bear.
“It’s… well, it’s not going so well,” Elena was forced to admit. “I always manage to get clients somehow, but it’s never enough.”
“You need the right contacts for that business darling,” her father said. “It’s all about who you know. Everything is always all about who you know.”
Elena didn’t bother pointing out that her parents had those very contacts, and perhaps her troubles would be a little lighter if they would make some casual introductions, but Elena knew her parents. Sculpting was not the career path they wanted for her, and because of that, they would never help her make it successful or want to admit it to their sophisticated friends.
“True,” Elena replied passively, “maybe I need to try a little harder.”
“You know darling,” Louis said reasonably, “sometimes the best thing you can do is to admit that a change of path is what is necessary to change your luck.”
Elena sighed tensely. “By that you mean, give up sculpting?”
“I simply mean that you have given three years of your life to this… to sculpting. It hasn’t gone as you planned and it’s alright to admit that, because once you do, you might be brave enough to try an alternate method.”
“What alternate method is that, Dad?” Elena asked.
“Oh, there are so many options available to you,” said Louis grandly. “I have already spoken to a number of my colleagues, each of whom are more than willing to employ you in their companies.”
“You’ve already spoken to people?” Elena asked, trying to keep the irritation from her voice.
“Yes, of course, darling,” Louis replied. “We’re having a little party tonight, you’ll get to meet some of them.”
“Oh, but don’t worry, Elena,” her mother cut in, “it won’t be all business. I have a few nice young men I want you to meet, too. It’ll be easier to set you up with a nice boy once you move back in with us; we entertain at least once a week.”
Elena was feeling her tolerance and her calm slip away slowly. It didn’t help that her perfect twin sister sat opposite her, nodding along with their parents. She wanted to remind her whole family that she had not decided yet whether or not to move back in with them. Realizing the fruitlessness of such an attempt, Elena decided to shift the focus off herself.
“So, Emily,” she said pointedly, “how are things with you? We didn’t get to catch up much the last time.”
“I believe that was your fault,” Emily said light heartedly, but there was an edge to her warmth.
Elena inclined her head in grudging acceptance. “Yes, I suppose it was.”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” Emily said, ignoring the fact that Elena had made no apology, “we know what a hard time you’re going through.”
