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I glance over at her. “I’m not making a scene.”
“There are press here,” she hisses. “Standing in a corner drinking your third glass of champagne and sulking is making a scene.”
I level a gaze at her. “Don’t tempt me, Mom. Because it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve actually made a scene, and I’m overdue.” Her mouth hardens into a line, but I can’t stop the words from flowing out. “Have you thought about what happens when their kid asks how they met? How that’s going to go over?”
“Jesus, Di—”
“Well,” I say, imitating Alex’s voice. “I used to be your Auntie Di’s girlfriend, actually. But she wasn’t good enough for me, so your mother and I got together instead.”
My mother’s face has gone almost purple with rage. It matches the dress she’s wearing well. “You’re the one who’s making this uncomfortable,” she says, voice low and angry. “You’re the one who can’t seem to move on and thinks that someone marrying her ex is the worst thing that’s ever happened to her.”
A sudden realization dawns on me. “Is that what you think happened?” I ask. “Is that what they told you?”
“That Alex left you and then they began dating, yes.”
I shake my head, fighting the swell of emotion that still overtakes me. The betrayal is deep, and it still stings. “Alex didn’t break up with me, Mom. I caught them together in the back seat of his car. They’d already been sleeping together for six months. Behind my back.”
I see that the news takes her by surprise. She blinks at me for a couple of second before schooling her features back into perfect composure. “Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter. It’s in the past now. All you can do is be happy for them, and please smile. If I’m going to help you, you can’t be this girl, Di. Even if you are my daughter.”
And then she walks away, that picture perfect smile plastered on her face as she waves to someone who’s just arrived and goes quickly to hug them. And I feel…nothing.
I hoped that it would make a difference, her knowing the truth. That she would understand why this is horrifying. I should have known better. It’s never been about anything but appearances.
If I’m going to help you, you can’t be this girl.
She means that if she’ll even consider what I asked her, I have to be a perfect princess who smiles for the press. Because she can’t help me, her daughter, if it will damage her reputation. Or my father’s. For being divorced, they’re still very protective of each other. Probably because they know that if one goes down, they both will.
I didn’t want to, but I’ve asked my parents for money.
After years of working for other people in salons, I have a client list that I can be fucking proud of. On top of that, my work is well enough known that I sometimes get work in Nashville, and on movies when they film locally—which they do often enough for the beautiful scenery.
It’s time. I’m ready to have my own salon, for both hair and make-up. I’ve found the perfect place here in Eastborough. It’s a beautiful little storefront in a brick building with loads of natural light and beautiful cherry-colored hardwood floors.
I knew when I walked inside that it was perfect. But the owner of the building isn’t interested in renting anymore. He wants to liquidate, and I don’t have that kind of money. And so after waffling back and forth for weeks, I asked my parents to help, hoping that me taking this step into being an entrepreneur would make them more willing to help. Maybe even make them proud.
They’re response was that I had to be better. Be a part of the family, take part in the events. Be friendly. Smile. Be a good Collins girl for the cameras. If I did that, then maybe they’d help me.
It’s why I’m here at this baby shower now.
I hate that I want to please them, and to make them happy. That there’s a voice in my head that wants them to approve of what I’m doing for once in my life. If I had any guts, I’d just walk away. But I can’t.
They’re my family, and I love them even if what we have is twisted and broken. And so I try. And I try to put a smile on my face. It’ll be worth it, if I can finally get the salon. Something that’s mine. Just mine and no one else’s. Something that they won’t be able to take away from me.
So I think about last night and this morning, the joy and the pleasure and laughter that I felt with Glenn, just for a few hours. And I plaster on a smile, even though I want to be anywhere but here.
