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“It often feels like I’m a burden,” I admit quietly. “Or like you’re ashamed of me.”
She seems to think about that for a moment. “I don’t understand you. I’m sorry if I made you think that I was ashamed. I suppose if anyone feels shame, it’s me. I didn’t do a great job with you.”
“See, the way you put that makes me feel like I’m damaged or something. I’m not. I know I couldn’t hold onto Jensen Medical, but I’m working with Heath on something.” I remember what she said the other day and decide to let it go. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to grab my laptop.”
“Ivy, I’m sorry about what I said to you.”
Her words stop me in my tracks. She’d said a lot since I’d gotten back. I want to make sure we were talking about the same thing. “About Dad?”
A light flush stains her cheeks. “Yes. I shouldn’t have said it to you in that fashion.”
“But you believe it.”
“I think he wouldn’t understand,” she says after a moment.
I realize in that moment that we’re not talking about my dad. Not really. “He wouldn’t understand my job?”
“It seems so very ruthless some of the things that woman taught you. He wasn’t like that at all. You know at one point he thought about going to seminary.”
I’ve never heard this before. My somewhat hippie-dippie dad had thought about being a pastor? “You’re kidding.”
She shakes her head and gets that look she always has when she’s thinking of my dad. It’s a wistful look that makes her seem both young and old at the same time, as though grief places her in both stages of life at once. “We were in high school, and he considered it. His mother was very active in church. He liked parts of it. Feeding the poor. Helping people.”
My father had worked for several nonprofits over the years. And he and Mom had done some time in the Peace Corps. Maybe he would be ashamed of his capitalist daughter.
“Anyway, he decided he could do a lot of good outside of the church,” she explains. “And I was relieved because I would have been a terrible preacher’s wife. I shudder at the thought of having to deal with all those people. Your father was always so much better with people. He could talk his way out of anything. He liked to talk, you know. One time we were walking through Bryant Park after dark. This was years ago. You were a very difficult baby, and the only thing that could soothe you sometimes was to put you in a stroller and walk you around. So there we were at one in the morning and sure enough, a man tries to mug us. I was terrified, but your father talked to him. Turned out the guy was hungry and homeless, and so your dad helped him find a place to stay that night. I would never have done that. I would have called the police and had him sent away.”
“I would have done the same, Mom. It doesn’t make you a bad person,” I reply. “Wanting to be safe and secure isn’t a moral failing.”
“No. But what that woman does is,” Mom insists, and I know we’re right back to talking about CeCe. “This wouldn’t have happened to you if your father was alive.”
“Your dad sounds awesome.” Heath is back, and he slides an arm around my shoulder, seemingly ready to defuse the tension. “My parents did a lot of charity work, too, but it was mostly around the city.”
“CeCe does a lot of charity work, too. She has a whole foundation.” I feel the need to defend my mentor.
“She throws parties for the wealthy,” my mom replies. “That’s not the same. She spends all her time with billionaires and celebrities, and she’s made sure you’re in that world, too.”
And I’m done. I gesture around the tiny room. “Yep. I’m in the lap of luxury. I’m going to grab my designer bag and tiara and head out to the next red-carpet event.”
“And that wasn’t what you did in California?” Mom asks, one brow raised. “Because it certainly seemed like it.”
“What I did was work.” I’m tired of justifying my life to her. “Pretty much constantly, something you would know if you’d ever once come out to visit me.”
“I couldn’t come out there. I had to work, too,” she replies. “And quite frankly, I wouldn’t have fit into that world you’re so proud of.”
There’s a knock on the door, and I have to wonder if it’s a neighbor since no one buzzed up.
I hope it is because that will give me the perfect excuse to get the hell out of here before Heath figures out how screwed up my family life is. He’s already had to survive my friend drama.
