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“Charles, darling, how did you know we were here?” My mother’s fake polite white-lady Southern accent surfaced as she held out her arms to hug the man.
It drove me insane because she wasn’t from the South. Whenever she was overly polite, she sounded like she was auditioning for a role in Steel Magnolias.
“I was coming to wait, of course. Our star client should not be left alone in the lobby for even a second.” The amount of kissing up he did for a star was both impressive and very, very sad, but then again, with the amount of money on the line, who wouldn’t become a lap dog?
“You’re always so kind. You remember my daughter, Odette.” My mother stepped back so they could see me.
“How could I forget? You are a beautiful young lady. You take after your mother so much that you could be twins.”
I hated it when people said that. “Thank you, Mr. Greensboro. I wish we were meeting again under better circumstance, of course,” I replied, outstretching my hand to greet him.
He took my hand and held on, petting it as if I were an injured child. “Don’t worry for a second. We won’t let them get away with what they’re trying to do. I have all my best lawyers on it.”
“Are you referring to the tagalongs you have here?” my mother asked, eyeing everyone behind him. She went over each one before frowning and looking back at him. “I am not impressed. I hope this is the B team.”
“Mom, why don’t we go upstairs first and then talk,” I injected quickly before she tore them down and left them weeping in some nearby supply closet, wondering why the hell they went to law school.
“I see you are up to your theatrics, as usual, Wilhelmina.”
Oh, God, no! Why?
“You haven’t seen theatrics yet, Yvonne,” my mother said as I turned around to the blonde-haired, big-boobed, blue-eyed Barbie who was my stepmother, Yvonne Wyntor, dressed in an all-purple power suit. Behind her stood her own team of lawyers.
“I think you’ve seen too many performances. You’re supposed to watch the play, Wilhelmina, not steal the costumes.”
“Says the seventy-year-old woman dressed as Barney.”
“I am not seventy, you—”
“Okay! Okay!”
I turned to see my half sister, Augusta, appearing out of nowhere and grabbing her mother just as I grabbed mine. We both gave each other a quick look of understanding before focusing back on her parent. You would have thought they’d be over it by now. But no. For some reason, they just couldn’t leave the past in the past. It was ridiculous how we were often left to play referee between them. And even more so how people always just watched. I could see the small circle gathering and the phones already in hand, ready to be lifted. Apparently, rich women fighting was all the rage now on social media—it trended as fast as the Kardashians.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. No need to hold on to me,” my mother muttered and gave me that look, the mother look. After almost twenty-seven years, you’d think the power would have worn off.
“We forgot something. You all go up first,” Augusta said, forcing a smile.
“Good idea,” I said to her and linked arms with my mother, then without letting go, we turned from them. I nearly dragged my mom from the lobby to the elevator.
Mr. Greensboro let us inside first, but only he followed. The lawyers my mother was not impressed by seemed to vanish with a snap of his fingers.
“Mom, remember the conversation we had in the car?” I whispered to her.
“She started it,” she replied as if she were six.
“Mom.”
“She didn’t have to be here, Odette. She came to fight, so by all means, let’s fight. I’m not scared of her.”
“Aren’t you two tired of arguing? Dad isn’t even alive anymore. Let it go.” For the love of God, please let it go!
“Odette.” She looked over at me seriously. “I’m not the one holding on and fighting for myself. She is making us do this. All of this could have ended peacefully. But she had to come up with some fake excuse to keep you from your inheritance. Your father specifically left it to you. And she can’t stand that. She wants us to beg her for the rest of our lives. I’m fighting for you.”
I was sure she really believed that.
“We’re here,” Mr. Greensboro said as the elevator doors opened nearly at the top of the building.
My mom adjusted her coat, lifted her chin, and walked out with pride. I had only taken a few steps before I felt my phone vibrate.
