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I hear the elevator sound, but I don’t hear it close. And then, I see a ghost.
Mother.
I haven't seen or spoken to her in nearly a decade. Her once vibrant blonde hair is now a head full of snow, yet her eyes remain the same shade of green. I know that color all too well, because we have the same eyes. The last time I saw hers in person, they were filled with sadness and regret, and now they look exactly the same. All of my instincts as a son suddenly reactivate, standing up from my chair about to walk toward her, but memories of our bitter past stop me in my tracks. I almost feel frozen in time, but she continues to walk purposefully toward me.
“Hello, Leo,” her voice sounds like one of a gentle angel, but it’s been tarnished in my head. It’s safe to say that we don’t have the best of relationships. “You’re looking well. Have you been eating properly?” Her motherly words almost tug at my heartstrings, but I remain firm, slowly sitting back down in my chair. I notice Jordan is still here and I shoot him a quick look to get out of here, and he simply nods and leaves. He doesn’t need to be here to witness all of whatever’s about to happen.
“Mother.” I can’t seem to bring myself to say other words. My wit has completely shriveled up, and for the first time in a long time, I’m starting to feel overwhelmed in my own office. My mother’s aura has always been intimidating, and even in her old age, it hasn’t changed one bit. “Y — You look well.” When the words leave my mouth, I realize I just copied what she said, and now I’m internally slapping myself for being so frail in front of my mom. I need to let these inhibitions go, and just remember why I committed to not being a part of her family after my father died.
My mother simply sighs, however, a bit dramatically. She walks to the sofa and drapes herself over it, face exhibiting signs of stress. “Yes, well, you know I’m the best at keeping up appearances, dear. You’ve made that very clear during our last conversation five years ago,” she recalls, and I almost roll my eyes, but again, I keep myself firm on the ground. “It’s all just so baffling to me, Leo. Maybe you can help clear something up.”
My jaw clenches, and I instruct myself to take a breath. “It depends on what your conundrum is, Mother,” I state, recalling the millions of tactics I had to master just so she couldn’t get the upper hand on me.
“Mm. Yes. Well, this one is about you, really,” she starts, sitting up properly while her green eyes become as sharp as a snake’s. “Would you mind clarifying whyyour own motherhad to hear from the tabloids about your very celebrated engagement to your secretary?” Her voice spews venom that could kill an entire army, and it admittedly shakes me to my core, but I’ve braved through her barrages once, and I can do it again. “And at the most opportune time, as well, Leo. A singular month before your thirty-sixth birthday, where, oh! That’s when your conditions are about to take effect!” Her tone becomes shrill, and I know that if I don’t stop her now, she’s going to continue to berate me until I feel nothing more than an insignificant speck. Never again.
“As you may recall during our dreaded conversation five years ago, Mother, I mean to actively distance myself from beingyourfamily,” I remind her, matching the same venom in her voice. After all, she’s the first person who ever taught me how to be persistent with my words. “And I have no plans on going back on those words,” I emphasize, and this time, my mother’s eyes shift to sadness.
She lets out a deep sigh. “After all this time, Leo, you have not let go of your anger with me? I simply wanted you to live a regular life, not all of this.” Her hands point to everything in the room, and I instantly feel my blood boil. “Film studios, celebrities, award shows. Yes, they’re all great things, but they’re not what life is about. There’s more to it than that.”
“My father made hiswhole lifeaboutthis. Don’t you dare disrespect his life’s work,” I warn her, feeling myself seething by the teeth.
However, like most other times, my mother simply looks unimpressed. “Fine, Leo. Be that way,” she concedes, standing up and slowly walking toward the door. “Just know that family is a very important thing, even if you don’t want them.”
“I’ve seen what a real family is like, Mother,” I interject, thinking about how Isa and her family remain loving and caring to one another even after all the mistakes and misgivings that occurred within their household. It’s unconditional love. It’s what it always has been for them. It’s what I had from my father, but never from my mother. There werealwaysconditions with her:
“And this isn’t family,” I declare, but again, my mother simply looks unimpressed.
“I’m glad you’ve experienced at least something in your life,” she says monotonously before entering the lift. “Just heed my warning, Leo. There’s less nuclear ways to try and keep this studio to yourself. Don’t involve your secretary in this felony you’re about to commit.”
With that, my mother finally leaves the office, and I let out a deep breath I wasn’t aware I was holding as I lean back into my chair once again. She’s always been so good at making me question my decisions, but I cannot let her deter me. Not now, when we’re so close to the interview. There’s no going back now, and I’m… I’m willing to fight for Isa and my father’s company. I’m fighting to keep them both in my life, and I’m not going to let anyone, not even my own mother, get in the way.
Chapter 23
Isa
“Noway.You’redefinitelywrong.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m wrong about a question that’s about me. Let’s see how that holds up.”
“Alright, alright. What’s the answer, then?”
I look at Leo’s face, unable to help myself from wearing a smile that could light up this whole town. It’s already dark, and we’ve been in this meeting room for about five hours straight, going through the binder and letting each other know all the obscure facts about ourselves. The interview is tomorrow afternoon, and a part of me was shaking in my boots earlier, but these past hours with Leo have somehow made me feel like anything outside this room doesn’t exist. It’s just me and him getting to know the stupidest and most minuscule parts about each other.
“I was a flag girl in our school’s marching band. Cost me about a couple months of my allowance, but it taught me how to work within a group.” I inform him about my grade school days, remembering the Saturdays I had to give up for band practice. It wasn’t anything fancy, really. Just a bunch of young kids using hand-me-down instruments and equipment, cheering for the school during public school sports tournaments. “It was really fun. It was worth all those skipped lunches to pay for the flag,” I give context, kind of missing those days, when everything was simple and straightforward.
“A flag girl, really?” Leo comments, seemingly wrapping his brain around me waving a flag around to the rhythm of the song.
“What about you? What were your extra-curricular activities in school?” I ask him, knowing that I need to be aware of these things to be really convincing in front of the terrifying immigration agent.
“Oh, I was a loser. My dad wanted me to be in the AV club, but I wasn’t at that part of my life yet. My mother…,” Leo pauses for a second upon mention of his mother. I know that they have a strained relationship. I’ve screened a million calls from his mother throughout the years, and he has rejected every single one of them without fail. “Well, she didn’t really care, as long as I was out of the house. So, really, I just let Jordan drag me everywhere. The diner, the basketball court, the roller rink. I wouldn’t have had a childhood if it weren’t for him.”
“He’s really like your actual brother, huh?” I ask, feeling warm and cozy at seeing the two men share such a strong bond with each other throughout the years. “It’s cute. You’re polar opposites, but you both have each other’s backs. Kind of like how I am with my sister.”
Leo grins, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I guess we’re kind of like that, except without the blood relation, but I never thought being alike really mattered, anyway.” There’s a sadness in his voice, and I can’t help but take his hand in mine. His eyes glisten, and I just stare at him with a sympathetic smile, wordlessly telling him that I’m ready to listen to him anytime.
“You know my mother visited me, don’t you?”
I tighten my grip on his hand. “The receptionist in the lobby told me,” I fill him in, making him let out a deep sigh.
