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It hadn’t been a deal so much as a threat. Made possible because she was not only my mother, she was also my boss. You’d think she’d be proud I’d followed in her footsteps and worked in her practice, but no. It had always been clear, no matter how accomplished I became as a doctor, I’d never be able to fill her red-bottomed shoes.
“And I’ll have kept my end of the deal in—” I glanced at my watch. “Twelve more minutes.” It wasn’t as if I’d skipped the entire day like my older brother had. Lucky guy.
“After you pose for family pictures, you will have fulfilled your obligation.”
Wait. What? She expected me to stand there and say cheese with the couple as if I hadn’t been engaged to the groom three months ago and planning my own wedding to him? “Photos weren’t part of the deal. Mike and Bethany want me in their wedding album as much as I do.”
She shook her head. “What will people say if you don’t pose for photos with the family?”
“What will they say when Bethany has a baby in six months? Who cares what they think?”
I could practically hear her teeth grind. “Lower your voice.”
A long breath expelled from my lips. “I’m here, Mother. It wasn’t easy, but I’m here.”
I would have welcomed an ounce of sympathy from her over watching the man I’d been engaged to marry my baby sister instead of me. Sure, Bethany and I had never been close, what with the seven-year age difference between us and very little in common, but I’d thought there was some love there. Some respect. Some sort of boundary that would prevent her from fucking the man I’d planned on spending the rest of my life with. Could my mother appreciate for just one moment what this was costing me?
“You need to put aside your feelings for the sake of the family.”
My bitter laughter bubbled up, along with a bit of the Scotch. “You talk as though I’m allowed to have feelings. I draw the line at photos.”
She huffed, but instead of walking away and cutting her losses, she escalated. “You will do pictures with the family or else.”
“Or else what?” Forget the veiled implications. I needed her to say it point-blank.
“Or else you can look for another job.”
My anger went from a dull ache to a loud roar in my head. How dare she? I’d graduated top of my class from both USC and at Stanford Medical School. I’d gone to work in her practice two years ago and had done an incredible job building up a respectable patient list. But she chose to treat me like I was disposable. I was done with her ultimatums regarding my own personal life.
“In that case, let me save you the trouble of firing me. I quit.”
The shock in her expression trumped any misgivings I might have developed over a rash decision. Watching her face turn red over not getting her way was worth the sacrifice.
“But you have patients and obligations.”
My hand fisted at my side. “Which you were willing to ignore for some stupid family wedding photos with my ex and his pregnant mistress, who happens to be my sister. Unlike you, who has not acted professionally by threatening me with personal matters, I’ll be responsible. I’m giving you sixty days’ notice so my patients can transition to other doctors in the practice.” I hated the idea of leaving pregnant women hanging. I’d make sure they either found another doctor in my mother’s practice, or I could take them with me to wherever I transferred.
“You always were an impulsive, irrational child.”
I’d been so starved for attention growing up, I’d sometimes acted out in my youth. But my brother had always followed the rules to absolute perfection, and the result had been the same. Neither of us had been able to win our parents’ love or respect in the end.
As I’d moved into adulthood, I’d tamped down my rebellion, given up my dreams, and tried to become the perfect daughter. But no longer. I was done with a capital D.
“How would you know I was an impulsive child? Not like you were there while I was growing up to notice.”
Suddenly all of my childhood resentments were coming to the surface. Who needed a therapist when Johnnie Walker could easily unlock my deep-seated traumas?
“You’ll regret your choice, Brooklyn. Mark my words.” She stalked away while Teddy, bless him yet again, set a glass of water next to my untouched, on-the-house, now-very-much-needed tumbler of Scotch.
Adrenaline over her threat was strumming through my veins. “Thanks, Teddy.”
He threw me a sympathetic smile.
Had I really just quit my job? Sure, I could always get another one considering my résumé, but damn, I loved my patients and the nurses. Oh, man, and what about Addison? My best friend was the receptionist at the office, and she’d take the news of me leaving hard.
Then again, there was every chance that by Monday morning my mother would calm down, and see reason. Yet the glimpse of freedom, the idea of forging my own future without my mother or my ex influencing my decisions—it was impossible to ignore. I was tired of being blackmailed. And God knew there’d be more opportunities in the future. A baby shower, the christening, family holidays…ugh.
“Ah, a beautiful chick who drinks Scotch—must be my dream girl.” The intrusive voice broke into my thoughts.
