Page 33 of Can't Take Moore

“I suppose you have a point,” he grumbled.

I blew him one last kiss before climbing out of the car, pausing at the top of my porch steps to wave goodbye as he backed out of my driveway. Then I went inside to drop off my stuff, do a couple of chores, and grab my skate bag. I was in the kitchen, almost ready to head to the rink, when I heard a knock on the door.

Since I wasn’t expecting any visitors today, I assumed that Dean realized he had more time to get to his meeting than he thought and wondered if he’d come back to bring me tea and muffins again. My smile was huge when I flung the door open, but it disappeared in an instant when I found my mom and sister on my front porch instead of him. “What are you doing here?”

Nadia smirked at my mom. “I told you she’d be surprised to see us.”

“Of course, I’m surprised. Not only was I very specific about this in my letters, but we also talked about it on the phone. All I asked for was one month. Thirty freaking days, and you couldn’t even give me that. Showing up on the doorstep of my home when I purposely didn’t give you the address is the complete opposite of keeping our communication strictly to email.”

“Which is exactly the problem.”

Nadia nodded in agreement with our mom’s cryptic statement, as though she understood exactly what she had meant. “Yeah.”

“Are you really going to make us have this conversation on your doorstep?” my mom asked.

“Why am I not surprised that you actually expect me to welcome you into my home when you showed up like this?” I muttered.

“Need I remind you, I'm your mother. Show me the respect that you owe me,” she snapped.

Arguing with her over the fact that showing up here against my wishes was disrespectful toward me was pointless, so I just opened the door wider. “Come in, I guess.”

“Gee, thanks.” My sister’s tone was saccharine sweet as she walked past me.

Caffeine was required if I wanted any chance to deal with them. So I headed straight for the kitchen and my coffee maker. Popping a pad into the slot, I asked, “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes,” they replied in unison.

Nadia gave a little shudder and added, “We had planned to stop at Starbucks in town, but all we saw was a weird little shop that specializes in tea and books of all things. There isn’t a single place where you can get a decent coffee in this town.”

I wasn't surprised that she didn't understand the appeal of Leaves & Pages. And I was more than a little relieved that they hadn't stopped there. It was too easy to imagine the crap that would have come out of their mouths and the apologies I would have needed to give to Skylar and Baxter for their antics.

Since I was hoping they wouldn't stay for long, I grabbed three travel mugs from the cabinet. As the first cup of coffee brewed, I turned to them and asked, “What in the world was so important that you had to track me down instead of just sending an email?”

My mom let out a little huff of displeasure, her nose wrinkling. “By the look of this place, I’d say we came not a moment too soon.”

I tried not to let her verbal jab get to me. “There's nothing wrong with this house, Mom. I love it.”

“But it's in the middle of nowhere,” Nadia cried. “I don't know how you've lasted this long out here.”

My mom took over where she left off, and I wondered if they’d rehearsed the whole thing in the car on their way here. “Your sister is right. It's past time for you to come home.”

Although I had only moved into this house three weeks ago, it already felt more like home to me than the condo I had shared with them for the past several years. “No.”

Keeping my reply short and simple, with no room for misunderstanding, only seemed to irritate my mom more. “Your little rebellion is over, Vienna. Go pack your things. You’re coming home with us. Nadia will drive your car, and you’ll ride with me.”

When I realized that she actually expected me to give in to her demand, I put the other two travel mugs back in the cabinet. They wouldn’t be staying long enough for it to brew, and I was no longer feeling even the slightest bit hospitable. “I’m not a minor. You no longer get to decide where I live. I’m twenty-two and more than capable of supporting myself.”

“If you refuse to see reason, the least you can do is reinstate my access to the bank accounts and your sister’s to the social media.”

I finally understood what had pushed her to find me and drive all the way down here to give me this lecture. She hadn’t mentioned the bank accounts when they’d called before, so she must have only recently been informed that she wasn’t my power of attorney anymore. “Nadia doesn’t need to log in for me. I’ve posted everything that she’s emailed me.”

“And the bank accounts? How am I supposed to pay the bills if I can’t log in online, write a check, or use the debit card?” my mom asked, her toe tapping a furious tempo against the floor.

“I’ve already paid all of the bills. The rent, utilities…everything. And your salary will be deposited into your account just like it always is.” When I’d reached seven-figure earnings, she had taken me to see an accountant who’d advised that I incorporate my brand for tax purposes. My mom, sister, and I were listed as employees, and he handled the payroll for me every two weeks. Plus, I was able to take distributions as the owner if I needed extra cash…like for buying this house.

“I wasn’t happy to learn that you revoked my power of attorney. I’ve been taking care of those things for you for years, Vienna. And this is the thanks I get?” my mom chided, her nostrils flaring as she jabbed her finger in the air. “The least you could have done was warn me. It was terribly embarrassing to have the teller explain why my debit card wasn’t working when I went into the bank branch to complain.”

The card she referred to wasn’t attached to her personal account but mine. Since I’d made sure all of the household expenses were covered, there was no reason for her to try to use that particular card. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

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