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“He’s a friend who sees that I’m uncomfortable because my parents who I haven’t spoken to in months just showed up here out of the blue and look intent on causing problems. He’s here because he’s a good guy and wants to make sure I’m okay.”
“You look well,” my father tells me, not bothering to comment on Cash or his brothers.
“Thank you.” I don’t ask them how they found me. They have resources and it wouldn’t take a genius to know that I would escape to Dorothy. The family hasn’t been in contact with her, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t kept track of where she is.
“Don’t lie to her, Robert. Have you had a proper facial or manicure lately? I hate to imagine what you look like under your clothes since you haven’t had a personal trainer or your chef helping. And by the looks of your hair you haven’t had a blow out for months. Your pores tell me you haven’t been eating well and your nails are horrendous. You’ve let yourself go, Hadley.”
I hear someone stand up and look to see it’s Cash. How embarrassing. He had to have heard everything Mom just said to me about my appearance. I give him a head shake and he stares down my parents before taking a seat again.
“Thanks, Mom. It’s good to see you, too. I’m actually doing well, by the way.”
She rolls her eyes. “Your appearance tells me otherwise.”
“Celeste,” my dad admonishes.
Mom glares at Dad before narrowing her eyes on me.
“Not to come off sounding rude, but why are you here? And, not that it’s any of your business, but I saw my new doctor two weeks ago and a dermatologist last month. According to them, I’m healthier now than I have been in a while. Happiness looks good on me, if I do say so myself.”
“We came to talk some sense into you,” Mom says, ignoring my statement about happiness. “This has gone on long enough. Trotter’s shacking up with someone his parents don’t approve of and quite frankly neither do we. Everyone is talking about it. We spoke to the dean at Brooklyn’s school and they’ll welcome her back no questions asked. That’s unheard of but you know our family has a lot of pull there having donated so much over the years. Not to mention we’re alumni.”
“So Trotter and I decided to live our own lives and rather than support us, you decide to ambush me and remind me I’m a disappointment?”
“This,” Mom gestures around the diner, “is not how we raised you.”
“I know. And that’s why I’m happier here than I’ve been in my entire life.”
My dad flinches and looks at the table, fiddling with his napkin.
“What you expected of me,” I continue on, “is not how parents should be. You didn’t care about me. You never once asked what I wanted out of life. Maybe that never bothered either of you. Maybe you were both perfectly fine living by someone else’s rules and requirements because you had money in the bank and that’s all that mattered. But there’s more to life than money. My entire life I had more than I could ever want. But it was all material. I never had what Ineeded.”
“You had everything you needed,” Mom argues, as if she didn’t hear anything I just said.
“I needed love,” I whisper, willing my tears to stay at bay. “I needed to know that my parents loved and cared for me no matter what. I only found support when I was doing what you wanted. If I bucked the system, you were quick to remind me of my place. I was an accessory and that’s it. I needed to be parented byyou, not nannies. I didn’tneedvacations and expensive clothes and boarding school. I needed you tolove me.That’s all.”
My dad licks his lips and stares at me. “We do love you.”
I shake my head. “No. You love me when I’m obedient and falling in line. Where in our family’s history does it say that we can’t have a life outside of money?”
“Are we still discussing this?” Mom snaps. “How can you be so naïve? I’ve told you how many times love is a fairy tale. Your father and I have made it work and neither of us complain or bitch about it like this. I can’t believe you.”
“And how can you be so callous? What is wrong with you?” I ask loudly. “Sure, money makes certain parts of life easier. I won’t deny that. But there is so much more to life.”
“Example?”
“Mom, weren’t you listening? Love. Relationships. Friendships based on mutual respect and common interests and laughter. Laughter! Have you ever spent time with one of your friends and just laughed? Or are all your relationships surface level? Do you know anything about them?” I take a breath and run my teeth over my bottom lip. “Do you realize that not once have either of you asked how I was doing? And I don’t mean today. I meanever. That seems ridiculous to say out loud, I know, but it’s a fact. You never asked about school or my friends or what my interests were. You assumed who I was because of who you wanted me to be. What you never cared to know, or understand, is that I don’t enjoy going to galas or volunteering for things that help no one but the already wealthy rather than those who are in need or redecorating my home for the eighth time just because of some new trend. You assumed that I wanted to fill my days with shopping and spa treatments and going to lunch at the club or playing golf, which I hate more than anything.”
“You make us sound so ostentatious. We aren’t narcissists.”
“If the shoe fits,” I reply with a shoulder shrug.
Mom’s jaw drops in offense but Dad looks… ashamed?
He loosens his tie and takes a drink of his iced tea before setting the glass back down on the table and clearing his throat.
“I suppose, you might have a point. We were raised…”
“Oh my gosh, if you say that’s how you were raised so you don’t know any better I will freak out. There are no excuses, Dad. I was raised the same and if you ask Brooklyn she’d tell you the only times she felt the way I did growing up is when she was around you and Trotter’s parents. We chose differently for her so don’t give me that bullshit of not being able to break a generational sin.”
