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“Your trust fund is old-fashioned and archaic. The Beningtons were like that. I lodged a formal objection when you were a baby. But it’s ironclad. You quit med school, you’re cut off.”
“What? Why? I don’t—Edie’s not in med school.”
“She already achieved the academic pinnacle of her chosen field.”
“She has a degree from a finishing school in preschool.”
“Faye Ellen, you know better than to belittle someone’s profession.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, tugging on my earlobe as if that will stave off the headache that’s quickly forming. “She only went to school one year past her bachelor’s. She’s not getting a Ph.D. I’ve been in school longer. I… I don’t understand.”
“She’s getting married.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, a little sharper than I intend.
“Faye Ellen, jealousy does nothing for your figure.”
I let out a sharp breath.
“Mom, we were talking about my trust fund. So, because I’m not gettingmarried,and because I’m not in—how did you phrase it?”
“‘In the active pursuit of the pinnacle of academic achievement in the beneficiary’s pre-determined field.’”
“Why didn’t I know about this?” I feel my bottom lip wobble.
“I don’t have the foggiest. Your sister did. We all did. We just assumed you would’ve talked to someone before youquit medical school. What happened, Faye Ellen? All you’ve ever talked about is being a doctor. Why would you quit?”
I shake my head and stare out the window where a black-eyed junco lands on the bird feeder and plucks at the freshly topped off seeds.
“Well, there’s a very clear solution to this.” My mother’s voice snaps me out of my daze.
“What’s that?”
“It’s obviously a mistake. Go back to school.”
“No,” I say, my voice shaky but resolute.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not going back, Mom. It’s not happening.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. I watch the bird continue to pick at seeds. It’s so small and its movements delicate, intentional.
“Well, I can see that you’re too upset to be rational. Perhaps it’s time to consider whether remaining in Oregon is the best thing for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve always been laser focused. You’ve never taken your eye off the ball. Not when you went to prep school, and not even when you went toCalifornia.” She says the state with the same level of disgust as she might saychlamydiaorsecond-hand Chanel. “But it wasn’t until you got to that land of hippies and anarchists that you lost your focus.”
“You think I quit becausePortland made me?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“I’m going to hang up now, Mom. You’re starting to lose it.”
“It’s not too late to un-do this.” She’s quiet for a moment. “You’ve never had to go without before, you know. It’s much harder than you realize. Especially with the wedding coming up. Speaking of, Liza mentioned you haven’t gotten her your dress size yet. You need to do that.”
“Dress size?” I ask, realizing too late it’s the wrong answer.
