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I eye Hudson. “Can you let Bill know we had to leave?”
He nods. “Will do.”
“Jameson,” Adeline says as I direct her out of the party. “You can stay.”
I keep hold of her as we continue walking. “Is your mother okay?” As far as I know, we weren’t expecting her.
“Yes.” She shrugs out of my grip and stops walking. “Are you ignoring me intentionally or have you gone deaf?”
I stop and look at her. “I’m coming with you. End of story.”
“Why? I don’t need you to come with me.”
“I am well aware of that.”
She stares at me for a good, long moment. A moment in which I get the distinct impression she really doesn’t want me with her when she sees her mother.
“I’ll give you and your mother space when we get home,” I say. “But I am going home with you.”
“Fine,” she finally says before walking ahead of me and muttering something about bossy men and coffins.
It’s the second time I’m sure I’ve heard her mutter about coffins. I’ve no fucking idea what she’s referring to. I’m just glad she’s not arguing with me anymore.
Although, arguing with Adeline is fast becoming a preferred activity of mine.
I’m beginning to think I’m losing my mind because I’m almost certain I don’t want her to stop anytime soon.
15
Adeline
“It’s good to see you’ve finally found a man who can look after you,” my mother says after I give her the guided tour of Jameson’s penthouse. She takes a moment to run her eyes over me and frowns. “Have you put on weight? I’m sure you didn’t look this puffy at your wedding. You need to be careful now that you’re married. You can’t afford to add too many pounds. Jameson won’t like that.”
I still remember the first time my mother suggested I go on a diet. I was nine. The boy who lived next door had taken a liking to me and Mom pulled me aside one night and offered to brush my hair. Since she rarely did anything like that for me, I thought it was the best day of my life. I hung on every word she said to me that night. Unfortunately, every word revolved around how I could keep a boy interested.
I learned from an early age to watch my weight.
And I kept learning well into my adult years to watch it some more.
All thanks to my mom.
She was the one who encouraged me into modeling. Some might say pushed rather than encouraged. And she’s still the one telling me to watch my weight.
These days, I don’t watch it. I watch my health instead.
I eat well, I exercise, I meditate, I sleep.
I do all the things that are good for me, including eating cupcakes and bagels and anything I damn well want when I want. And I love the curves I now have.
However, I don’t think it matters how old a girl gets, or how confident; her mother has the power to cut her down with just a few words. And right now, I feel cut down. Not because I believe what she’s saying, but because a daughter doesn’t want to hear these kinds of things from her mother. Mothers should only tend with love.
“Jameson won’t care,” I say.
Her gaze shifts beyond me as I hear Jameson’s voice. “What won’t I care about?”
I close my eyes for a second and inhale a breath.
He told me he’d give me and Mom space. I should have insisted on a timeframe for that space. His idea seems to be fifteen minutes. Mine would be hours.
