Page 80 of A Bookish Story

“What just happened?” I ask him.

He shrugs. “Don’t know.”

Abuelita pipes up. “Go talk to your mami, Luci.”

“Me?” I put a hand to my chest. First, I’m not done with the fried plantains or my rice. Second, what can I possibly say to her other than I’m sorry I lied, but that’s in my job description.

“Do you see any of her other daughters in this room?” Abuelita says.

“Fine!” Now, I get up and storm off.

At the closed bedroom door, I knock. “Let me in, it’s me.”

“Come in,” she says.

When I do, she’s hunched over, sitting on the edge of the bed, not prostrate in dramatic diva fashion as I’d expected.

“Okay, listen. See, I don’t understand why you’re so upset. Want to tell me? I’m the one who should be upset because I shouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“How can you not see why this bothers me?”

“I never wanted to be an actress, you’re right. And I’m still not. This was a one-time deal and it’s definitely typecasting. It’s like having a pen name, which a lot of authors do.”

“You don’t feel…used?”

“Not at all. It was my choice. My decision. They’re paying me well for this. Plus, I’ve had a lot of doors open and the next book will actually be written by me. It’s the greatest opportunity I’ve ever had.”

My mother sniffs and I notice she has a rumpled piece of tissue in her trembling hands. “I know how opportunities can pull you in but if you have to change who you are, it will only lead to disappointment.”

“I’m not changing who I am. Basically, Elizabeth Brogan is me, and I’m Elizabeth Brogan.”

“He’s never going to…change his mind who should play Elizabeth?”

It hadn’t even occurred to me, because it’s too late now, and we have a contract. Still, it’s stated to be valid for only one year. I’m not sure what could happen after that but it wouldn’t make much sense to hire anyone else.

“We have a contract.”

“Contracts can be broken.”

“It wouldn’t be in his best interest because that would lead to a lot of questions he doesn’t want to answer.”

Mami puts her hand on mine. “Don’t let anyone, especially a man, have too much control over your career.”

And just like that, a wave of unwanted sympathy for Mami washes over me.

My mother was raised by a Latina generation of women who had only begun to question a man’s role, authority, and control over them, so I’m surprised by this enlightened view. I’ve never once considered Ryan had any control over my career, but in a small way he does.

“Is that what happened to you? Did Seb take control over your career?”

“And I didn’t even see it happening. But it wasn’t just him. Him, and all the men who control everything. He even controlled my body. What I ate, and when. I could never be thin enough for any of them.”

This is brand new information to me, the idea this obsession with weight and looks didn’t originally come from her.

The wave of compassion becomes a tsunami. My poor mother, believing her worth was tied to how men felt about her. And the way they felt about her was based on her looks.

Except for my father.

Except for Eddie.