Page 110 of Twisted Beauty

At least this was the mother she knew and loved. The one who didn’t believe in her dreams. Although maybe she hadn’t given her mom enough credit. In her own warped way, she seemed to have Liv’s best interests at heart.

“Right. Well, that’s not exactly the kind of motherly support I was hoping for. Just so you know, I have some ideas for my future, and they don’t involve Channel Six.” Liv lifted her right hand like she was being sworn in on the witness stand. “And I promise to sleep on a park bench instead of on your couch if I can’t make it work.”

Her mother shut her mouth and pretended to twist a key and throw it over her shoulder. The same pantomime she’d always used for I’m not saying a word. Which never lasted more than a few seconds.

If Liv counted to ten, the judgments would come pouring out. But she didn’t want to wait that long. “Go ahead and say it.”

Her mother shrugged. “It’s a gamble, that’s all. Channel Six was a dream job. So this plan of yours, it had better be solid.” She trailed off, and then added, “Your father will be so disappointed.”

And there it was.

“He always did hate my art,” Liv said. “I figured that out when I found one of the photos I’d printed out for him in his trash. It was a close-up of that classic Porsche 911 he used to keep in the garage, back when I had Aunt Evie’s camera. Do you remember that car?”

“Your photography reminded him of Brian. I think your father always felt like my second choice.”

Well, shit.

Liv found herself following her mother’s gaze out that window, and not seeing anything but that photograph in her father’s trash can. If she’d understood his reasons at the time, maybe she wouldn’t have been so devastated over the whole thing. Maybe she’d never have felt the need for Grant or the job at the station. “You could have told me that.”

“Maybe I should have. When you were old enough to understand. But I hated the idea of you throwing your life away on a career that wouldn’t support you. So I didn’t want to encourage it.” Liv’s mom glanced over at her, and shook her head. “Don’t look at me that way. I’m your mother. It’s my job to worry.”

Liv wanted to bury her head in her hands and scream. But she forced herself to focus on what mattered instead. She talked about the work she did for Mexipup and how many dogs were finding forever homes because of her photos. About her travel blog, and all the pictures she’d taken for it. And about Tito’s shop, and how she’d decorated the walls with gorgeous images of old Mexico. How it looked like a brand-new place when she was done. She even talked a little about her ideas for the future, although those ideas were still taking hold in her own head.

Gallery curation, an Etsy shop, photography workshops and tours—there were a ton of options, and a ton of people out there making money in all of them. And she’d barely started her research.

Her mother raised an eyebrow. “How on earth did you get to know an octogenarian who owns a magic shop? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

Liv laughed. “That’s the part that interests you? I met him through Katie. I sort of, um—” She drew in a breath, knowing full well she should keep her mouth shut. “I fell in love with his grandson.”

To say she could have heard a pin drop was a vast understatement. It was one of those moments she’d have heard every tick of a clock if there’d been one on her kitchen wall. Liv watched several emotions flit across her mother’s face. Surprise, shock, and ultimately, disappointment.

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with a pauper in Mexico.”

Liv pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. “Does anyone even say pauper anymore?”

“Answer the question, Olivia.”

“Quit being so judgy. You’re in my house, drinking my coffee. The least you can do is be nice.”

Her mother just stared—eyebrow raised, waiting. So Liv gave her the edited version, including all the best parts of their relationship. She’d probably carried on for half an hour before she realized it. About Matt’s interest in her life, his love of art, his job in Malibu, his superb cooking skills, his kindness and his generosity. She almost slipped once, but managed to make it through the entire story without mentioning his magic wand. The thought made her smile, and then immediately want to cry.

Her mother sat silently for several minutes before pushing back her chair, grabbing the coffee pot, and refilling both their mugs. She sat down again and looked Liv square in the eye.

“Granted, I’m only hearing one side of the story, but it sounds to me like he’s smart enough to be smitten with my beautiful daughter. And you’d never go hungry marrying a chef.”

Was that a joke? Because it sounded like her stoic mother was trying to make a joke. And Liv almost smiled. Almost. Instead she sighed. “He doesn’t want me anymore, Mom. He says he can’t trust me.”

“And you believe him.”

“Um…of course. What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“It means he was jealous,” her mother said, shaking her head like Liv was missing something obvious. “You went to see your ex without telling him. It’s not a crime. And, from what you said, he’s smart enough to figure that part out on his own. Once he calms down, he’ll realize he overreacted.”

“You don’t know him, or his past. You didn’t see his face when he found out what I’d done. I’m telling you, it’s over.”

“No, darling,” her mother said, sounding very kind and motherly once again. Liv couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this nurturing. “What you’re telling me is that you met the man of your dreams. But once again, you chose to run away.”

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