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“That she can’t move.” Mother wipes a dollop of her smoothie off the side of her glass. “She can work for me. Would you like a smoothie, hon? I’m making myself a strawberry mango.”
“No, thank y—”
“Here.” She slides her glass in front of him. “I have some new flavors to try.”
Cannon sucks from the drink. Mother and I watch for his reaction, our discussion momentarily suspended. He pauses like he’s letting the flavors swirl over his tongue, then he takes another drink. “It’s good.”
“I know, right?” Mother grins and digs some new packets out of the freezer. “It’s easy enough to arrange everything. Penni will get the itinerary and you can get her where she needs to be.”
“I don’t recommend any schedule changes at the moment. We don’t know how this person will react to the people around your daughter.”
“She’ll be safer around my staff. They’re all adults and they’re—”
“No, Mother.” I square my shoulders. Cannon doesn’t need to handle this. He’s told me what I should do, given my situation. I need to handle this like the adult I keep wanting Mother to see me as. “Maybe we can collaborate on something, but the studio is my priority. Roman took five years of independence from me. I’m not letting it go again, even if it’s to you.”
Mother blinks at me. She’s holding the package of frozen fruit in her hands. “Penni, I’m not trying to steal your independence.”
“You’re not trying to, but you will.” She’ll rebound. Guilt from shoving me out of the nest into a predator’s open mouth will make her swing to the opposite end until I’m fully in her fold.
She stares at me. She might’ve forgotten Cannon’s here, but I haven’t. He’s a wall of heat next to me. I’m at my lowest and don’t mind if he witnesses this exchange. His presence reminds me that I’m not a teenager trying to please her parents anymore.
Mother’s eyes mist. “I did what your father wanted. Gave you freedom and space so you could make your own way in the world. I have so many friends with troubled kids. All that money and no responsibility?” She shakes her head and her blonde ponytail swings. “Then Roman gets to you and it’s too late. I don’t want to make the same mistake.”
“Roman’s my mistake, not yours.”
She reaches over the island and grabs my hands. “As your mother, I will have a hard time agreeing with you.” She releases me. “I’m sorry. You haven’t been here twenty-four hours and I’m trying to run your life. You’ve gotten yourself a bodyguard. Obviously, you must be doing well.”
I squirm in my seat. Cannon doesn’t flinch, and he doesn’t tell her the details of our arrangement, like that I can’t pay him.
Cannon finishes his smoothie and slides off the stool. “We need to get going in twenty minutes, Penelope.”
Mother’s still staring at the counter when I’m done putting my dishes by the sink. She blinks a shine of moisture away.
“Mother?” I put my hand on her shoulder. We’ve reached a new point in our relationship, but it’s too early to tell what that means. “Is everything okay?”
“I feel like I hardly know you.” She pokes at the warming bag of smoothie starter. “I didn’t want to push you away.”
I’m riding high on my honesty. I don’t want to hurt her, but if I want something different for my future than a stilted relationship with my parents, I have to do something different. “It felt like you did push me away. I was terrified. London had a company waiting for her. Holland’s mother left her the clothing line. And I was left alone. I wasn’t like the other kids. They worked through high school. They had skills. They had street smarts, and I didn’t know how to use a toaster. I’m not saying that I would have been fine if you and Father didn’t cut me off, but I’m telling you why it’s important to keep what I have now. Why I can’t depend on your support now. I have life skills now, and I need to use them.”
“We only wanted the best for you, but we didn’t think it through. Rookie parents.” She squeezes my shoulder. “But you’ve done well for yourself.”
“I’ve done well despite Roman.” There was a difference and I needed her to know, to iterate that my career and my studio are my own, but that I need help. And maybe I’m reassuring myself it’s okay. “Roman thought my dancing was a silly little distraction, but I used it to build independence. I only had enough to hire a shitty private investigator and that used up some of my meager savings. Cannon’s a friend of Jacobi Dixon’s and he’s letting me pay him after the divorce is final.”
“Oh, Penni.” She pulls me in for a hug. This one feels different. It’s supportive. It’s comforting. It’s not a hug while she figures out what the hell to do with me, and it’s what I need from her. “We all need a hand up now and then. You don’t owe me a thing. Listen, if you want to collaborate with me for some extra cash, it’s your choice. I seriously think your face can sell my product. You were my first supporter.”
I giggle and pull away. Mother used to let me taste her products first. The ones I liked, she moved forward with. A collaboration might be natural for us and highlight that we have more of a relationship to build on than we thought. “Deal.”
She doesn’t let me go. “Have you talked to your father yet?”
My smile fades. Reconciling with one parent is better than nothing, but I don’t think Father will be as easy to talk to. “No. I’m sure he knows, but…”
“But since he hasn’t called, you don’t think the conversation will be in your favor?”
It’s my turn for my eyes to mist. “No.” I’ve never related to my powerful businessman of a father. He’s been the looming presence that preceded all the turning points in my life that didn’t pivot in my favor. He didn’t want me in ballet; I had to quit ballet. He didn’t want me to be a spoiled adult; I got kicked out of the house. He didn’t want me to marry Roman; he quit talking to me. But he makes money off Roman’s money, and other than being bitter, I’m not sure what to think about that.
“Your father isn’t like us, but his priority is you. He has a shitty way of showing it, and he doesn’t people well outside the boardroom.”
That made me feel better. I don’t know Father well, and Mother isn’t the type to tell me things just to make me happy. But she can’t improve my relationship with him. He has to do it himself. He has to want to. “I’d better finish getting ready. Thanks.”
