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Surprisingly, she’s quiet—too quiet if you ask me. I pause. Ask her if she’s still on the line. “I’m here,” she says, curtly. For some reason I get the sense that Daddy has spoken to her. That perhaps he’s put his foot down with her.
“Well, have you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Oh, I’ve heard you loud and clear. You think I’m a horrible mother. That nothing I’ve done has been right.”
Oh, for the love of God! Here we g
o with this victim shit again. I sigh. “If that’s what you’ve heard, then shame on you.”
“You basically want me to walk around pretending that I’m happy about how you and your sisters are living. Well, I’m sorry, I won’t. And I can’t.”
“And you’ve sadly missed the whole point. You don’t have to be happy about anything we do. I’m not asking you to be. All I’m asking is for you to be mindful about what you say, and how you say it. I don’t think that’s much to ask for. We barely come around you, now. Persia barely speaks to you. And Paris tolerates you with a long-handled spoon. And if you keep it up, I’m gonna cut you off next. Is that what you want?”
I massage my temples, fighting back a headache.
She lets out an annoyed sigh. I can tell, trying to bite her tongue. “Of course it’s not. But I’m the parent here. Not you, Persia or Porsha. And I will not tolerate being disrespected by any of you.”
“Then try respecting us. Try treating us like grown women, not little girls who have no clue about the world around us. We are beautiful, educated, successful women, thanks to you and Daddy. So you should be proud of our accomplishments, instead of always criticizing us.”
“I am proud of you girls. I just don’t like what the three of you are doing with your lives.”
“Mom, bottom line: it’s none of your business. So, leave it alone.”
“Fine. From now on, my mouth is shut.”
“Good,” I say, glancing at my watch. Thirty minutes going around in circles with her. This makes no sense. “Allow us to be your daughters; not your enemies.” She tells me she only wants what’s best for us. That she worries we’ll end up getting hurt. I want to tell her so badly that no one can hurt us as much as she has. But I don’t. I don’t have the heart to tell her this. “Mom, I know you do. But you go about it all wrong.”
“Well, it’s obvious we’re getting nothing accomplished with this phone conversation.”
“That’s because you’re not open to hearing anything,” I tell her, glancing at the time again. “Look I have to get going. I’ll call you one day next week, okay?”
We exchange a few more words before I tell her that I love her, then say our goodbyes. I immediately call Porsha. She picks up on the sixth ring. “Hey, girl, I just got off the phone with Mom.”
She clucks her tongue. “Mmmph. Let me guess. She found a way to put it all on you, right?”
“She tried, but I didn’t let her.”
“Good for you. So how did you end things with her?”
“I apologized and she accepted.”
“Mmm,” is all she says, pausing. I can tell she wants to say more, but she doesn’t. “So, is it busy at the boutique today?”
“It’s Monday,” I remind her. “The store is closed.”
She laughs. “Oh, that’s right. Girl, my mind is all over the place. I have so many clients scheduled this month I don’t know if I’m coming or going.”
“That’s a good thing,” I say. “That means business is keeping you busy.”
“It’s a great thing. Trust me. Thank God for Uncle Sam, and all of his taxes. You won’t ever hear me complaining. But I need to get out of here for a few hours. Play hooky for the rest of the day. What are you doing?”
“Not a damn thing,” I say, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
“How about we drive to Short Hills and hit the mall? I need to pick up something cute to wear this weekend?” I ask her what she has planned.
“Angel’s flying in for the weekend.”
“Oh, okay. How’s that nut doing?”
