Page 32 of False God

My grandmother’s favorite holiday is the Fourth of July, and she celebrates it to the fullest extent. Breakfast is just the opening act for a full day of activities.

First up, the parade in town. Followed by the family tennis tournament. Then lunch at the yacht club. Finally, the grand finale—the Red, White, and Blue party that predates my existence and is tonight’s most exclusive invitation.

The chairs surrounding the table are empty, except for one.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, taking the upholstered chair next to Dad and grabbing a muffin from the pile on the lobster-patterned plate. They’re still warm, steam curling from the tops.

“Good morning to you too, dearest daughter.” His eyes stay on the newspaper he’s scanning.

I roll mine as I reach for the carafe of coffee. “Good morning, favorite father. Where’s Mom?”

“Still sleeping,” he replies, flipping a page.

“Really?”

Mom’s normally an early riser.

Dad folds the paper and tosses it onto the table. “Well, first, she got up at three a.m. for a two-hour conference call with Milan and Paris.Then, she came back to bed and is still sleeping.”

That sounds about right.

“She works too hard,” I say.

“Agreed. But she promised she’d take the rest of the day off, even though ‘it’s not a holiday anywhere else.’”

“Gigi will be happy to hear it.”

Neither of my grandparents is very supportive of my mom’s jobs, but my grandmother is especially dismissive. It’s one of several reasons I’ve never been close with Mom’s parents. They’re both hyperaware of appearances and perception—a prime example being Gigi’s worry that Mom working will make people think she’s not as rich as she is. And it’s also why my grandmother insists my brothers and I call her Gigi since that sounds “chicer” than Grandmother.

I wonder, not for the first time, if my dad’s mom would have cared what her grandchildren called her. I know very little about the original Elizabeth Kensington, aside from that I inherited her name. She died when my dad was five. One of my earliest memories is asking my father why I only had one grandmother. I don’t remember his exact response, but I do remember the haunted look on his face.

I never asked again.

“Did you and Mom decide how long you’re staying?” I ask.

Dad’s forehead wrinkles as he helps himself to some waffles. “Not for certain,” he replies, which is a bizarrely vague answer from the man who plans his calendar months in advance.

Both of my parents do. It was a necessity as they juggled two high-powered careers and three kids. Even now that Bash is in college, neither of my parents shows any sign of slowing down.

“Will you still be here when I get back from Chloe’s wedding?”

“Yes.”

The concrete response should reassure me. But there’s a distant patter of uncertainty that sticks in the back of my head. I won’t be back from Chloe’s wedding for two weeks. That’s a lot longer than my parents typically stay in one place. They jet between meetings and movie premieres and fashion shows and galas and conferences and shoots.

Before I can press my dad for more details, Mom sails into the dining room, wearing a white sundress and her signature red lipstick.

“Morning!” she greets cheerily, squeezing my shoulder as she passes by the back of my chair before kissing Dad on the cheek.

He pulls her in for a real one.

I mime vomiting into my coffee cup. Unfortunately, Mom and Dad are too busy making out to appreciate my acting skills, and my brothers aren’t here to share commiserative looks with. They’re probably still both hungover and asleep.

Kit and Bash went out last night after we got back from Atlantic Crest while I was hunkered down in my bedroom, reviewing potential projects. I purposefully timed the Claremont Park project so that I could take most of July off around Chloe’s wedding. But I’ve nevernothad a next project lined up, and the lack of future direction is making me anxious. When I’m busier, it’s easier to shut up the self-doubt.

“You turned in early last night, Lili,” Mom says, taking the seat on Dad’s other side. “Everything okay?”

“Mmhmm. I was just tired.”

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