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“St. Peppers is less than a two-hour drive away from Cherrywood. In some countries it’s the commute time of people to work.”
“Yes, but it’s you, not some underprivileged person living across the globe. Look around you.”
And I glance at the ostentatious dining room, set meticulously as always. The dining table is topped with the finest breakfast. As every autumn that I can remember, there are cymbidium orchids in fall colors by the door in white, hand-painted Chinese vases and fresh chrysanthemums from our gardens on the dining table. Nothing changes in the Hawthorne Mansion to a point that you don’t realize which day is which.
Mrs. Lurch arranges the table with the finest china and places the silverware on cool gray napkins with the Hawthorne monogram embroidered in white. She gives me a sweet smile, but straightens immediately when we hear my mother’s heels clicking on the marble floor.
“Good morning, girls.” Mom enters the dining room, dressed impeccably as always for a family breakfast, followed by my brother.
Once they are seated, the staff starts serving.
“I talked to your brother about your potential move to St. Peppers, Clementine.” Mom places the china teacup back on the table after taking a haughty sip.
At least it looks haughty to me.
I push my shoulders back, preparing for the biggest battle of my life. “There is nothing to talk about. My mind is already made up.”
“But mine isn’t.”
Before I can tell her that I really don’t care, or at least try to do so, Gram enters the dining hall holding a cake tray. I can already smell my favorite cheesecake.
“Gram! Why are you carrying a tray double your size?” Oscar gets up from his chair and helps her in placing it on the center of the table.
Mrs. Lurch quickly gets into action, setting up a plate for Gram and passing her a cake knife.
“All my kids are home today, I am already twice my size.” Gram’s eyes twinkle as her gaze peers at us before slicing the orange cheesecake.
I snicker at her calling my big brother a kid. He’s got his own two kids.
My mother clears her throat, pulling my attention from my sweet gram. One of my most favorite people in the whole world.
“As you know, Clementine has expressed her desire to take a job in St. Peppers.” The way her mouth twists, it’s clear she is in no mood to let me go easily. But again she surprises me. “If you are so adamant on giving away your name and family, then I have no objection.”
My heart races at her unexpected compliance. I was expecting she would object, fight, try everything to keep me home. Like she has always done in the twenty-five years of my life. But this was too easy— Wait, what did she say?
“I am not giving away the family name.” My stomach feels weird and my muscles twitch, saying the words. What are you playing at, Mom?
“That’s not what I heard. There is no new employee named Clementine Hawthorne in Vanshionista. There is a Clementine H. from Cherrywood who apparently has no physical address except for a postal box number for correspondence.” With every word, the pitch of her voice rises. By the time she’s done, her face is fuming with anger.
“Cookie?” Gram’s hand trembles around the teacup she’s holding.
My throat tightens seeing the hurt etched on her sweet face. “I… I just wanted to get the job by myself, on my talent.”
“Yes, of course you did. And you got it. So congratulations to you, Clementine. And I am sure you would like to continue exploring this path of self-sufficiency. Is that right?”
I had every intention of doing so. But when I glance at the worried and disappointed faces of my family, I’m not so sure.
What am I doing wrong here?
“I thought you would be proud,” I mumble to Gram before looking away from her crestfallen face to the table before me, where the sad cheesecake sits forgotten.
“I’m so proud of you, Cookie. But why did you give away your father’s name?”
“I didn’t. I have every intention of using Dad’s name.” My eyes tear, but my insides simmer in anger. As always, my mother spoiled another great day in my life. I had no intention of giving away my family name. I wanted to do it on my own, just until I could show everyone that I’m worth something. I have something.
“Whatever be the case. You made your choice, and if you are so adamant on doing things your way, do it properly.”
I am not sure what other weapon my mom is drawing from her arsenal.
