Page 54 of Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire)
“More rebellious,” he said. “And you think that means you should let her do whatever she wants?”
“Of course I don’t. But it doesn’t mean clamp down hard, Te Mana style, either.” I shook my head in frustration. “I’ve never raised a teenager, and I don’t even know from being one myself, because I wasn’t like her. I couldn’t afford to be. But I want her to…I want her to feel normal. And if you start telling her she can’t go places, or that Charles is driving her everywhere, if you start telling her what to do…” I hung up my toothbrush to buy a little time and tried to explain. “It’s just been the two of us for so long, and I wouldn’t get home until eight sometimes. She’s always been responsible, because she’s had to be. If I start reining her in hard now—or worse, if you do—right when she could expect to have more freedom, to spend time with her friends, to have a job? Even if you keep that control while she’s here, what happens when shedoesgo away to college with all that stifled rebellion inside?”
“Which would all sound good,” he said, “if you weren’t really saying that you don’t want to share her. That you want to make all the decisions. Who do you think you sound like?” When I just looked at him, he said, “Yeh. Sound like me, don’t you? Can’t you see that all I want is to take care of you both, the same way you want to take care of Karen?”
“That’s great,” I said, “if I believed that was all you were worried about. And no, Idon’tthink it’s a good idea for you to be her guardian. Not now.”
I didn’t know if it was or wasn’t. All I knew was that the skin was prickling on my arms at the thought.
He shoved himself off the counter. “Think about it. I’ve got some more work to do before tomorrow.”
I wanted to ask him if he was mad at me, and I didn’t want to be that needy. I was nothing but confused.
My direction had always been clear, because it had been so limited. Scratch together a living for the two of us. Don’t get fired. Take care of Karen as best I could. I’d always been running behind, one step out in front of disaster, but I’d always known where I was going. Now, there were too many options, and I was floundering exactly like that goldfish. The tank was so big, I couldn’t even see the sides, and I didn’t know which way to swim.
“Well,” I said, “Goodnight, then. I’m so worn out from Eugene, I’m going to be asleep in about two minutes. That’s probably why I’m not making too much sense right now.”
His face softened a fraction. “If I were teaching you to negotiate, I’d tell you not to weaken your position like that.” And then he cheated. He took me in his arms, held me close, gave me a soft, sweet kiss, and said, “No worries, baby. We’ll get it sorted, you’ll see. Get some sleep.”
Totallyconfused.
Hope
The next morning was nothing but firsts. To begin with, I woke up from the lowest depths of sleep to the sound of the alarm and found myself barely able to move. I honestly thought for a second that I was paralyzed, or had been struck with the Flu From Hell. I felt, in other words, awful.
I tried to sit up and groaned, and Hemi came out of the bathroom and said, “Pardon?”
“I’m…” I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and winced as stomach muscles I hadn’t known I had shrieked in protest. “Eugene.”
He laughed, the jerk. “I’m a wee bit tender myself this morning. No worries. The first time’s the hardest, eh. As you know.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, and he laughed again, but he got me some Tylenol.
After that, I met the incomparable Inez.
Hemi normally went into the office early, he’d told me, leaving before seven, but he’d delayed his start today in order to introduce me to his housekeeper. And maybe to give me some moral support on the first day of my own new job, but if so, he tactfully didn’t mention it.
At seven-thirty sharp, I heard the front door open, and then Inez was in the kitchen, stopping short at sight of the three of us. Not the comfortable middle-aged figure I’d imagined, but a compact woman no taller than me. “Excuse me,” she said.
“Buenos dias, Inez,” Hemi said, as resolutely calm as always. “Como estas? Did you enjoy your holiday?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said, still looking Karen and me over. Hemi had said that he’d told her about me. If I were worried about my own employment change, how much more of a shift would hers be?
“I want you to meet Hope Sinclair and her sister Karen,” Hemi said formally. “Hope is…mi esposa? No, that’s not right. Mi…my fiancée.”
“Novia,” Inez said. “How do you do.” She held out her hand, her posture upright, her bearing absolutely dignified. “Inez Garcia.” Forty-five, probably, although her black hair was still unstreaked with gray.
“A couple things…” Hemi said, and led her out of the room.
Karen whispered, “I don’t think she likes us.”
“How could she not like us?” I whispered back. “She doesn’t know us.”
“Ha,” she said obscurely, and I had to agree. We couldn’t say more, though, because Hemi was quickly back with Inez, whose face, like Hemi’s, didn’t give anything away. Certainly not,I can’t wait to wash your dirty laundry, which was the idea that was giving me some serious pause. She immediately set about whisking plates of the breakfast bar, making me feel like a slob for not having done the dishes yet.
“If you have a wish for certain foods,” she told me as she set about whipping the kitchen back into its previous immaculate shape as if crumbs were a personal insult, “tell me. Otherwise I will continue to cook as I do for Hemi. He asks for healthful foods, always.” Her English was inflected with Spanish, but precise.
“Uh…that’s fine,” I said. “I’m just happy if somebody else is cooking. Karen and I aren’t picky.”
