Page 116 of We Met Like This
To my mom, I said, “I did some research work for an author up near the Central Coast.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Yeah, it was.”
Now Sammy was hugging me from behind, trying to drag me under the water. “Get your hair wet,” he yelled.
I pried his little arms off me and flung him away while he laughed. This was our game.
“Dad said your car was out of commission?” Mom was saying.
“Yeah, a battery or something. I haven’t been home yet to get it checked out.”
A pool noodle hit me on the side of the head and I grabbed hold of it and tugged, pulling Sammy with it. I spun in a circle while he hung on squealing.
Another noodle hit me from the other side and soon I was surrounded by kids pummeling me with their not-so-soft weapons.
“Food!” my sister called, and all the kids in the pool went running, leaving me, now shoulder deep, alone.
I paddled over to the side, closer to my mom, and restedmy arms on the warm cement and my chin on my arms. “I just got rejected,” I said with a sigh, the disappointment catching up with me.
“By who? He obviously doesn’t deserve you.”
“No, not by a man, by a potential client.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”
I swallowed. This was hard for me, but after Rebecca’s text, I knew I had to ask. “Do you think I could borrow some money? Just until I pick up a few clients.”
“You don’t have any money?” Mom asked.
“I have some savings but not nearly enough, I’m learning. I’ve just started my business and I think it will be amazing once I get my feet under me, but right now, I’m struggling.”
“You’ve always been a dreamer, that beautiful head of yours up in the clouds. Have you jumped into this prematurely? Before you had a proper plan?” she asked with a smile, like her words weren’t hurtful. “Maybe you could get your old job back. I bet Robert would rehire you. Sloane says you’re amazing at your job.”
“He won’t hire me back, Mom.”
“Why not? Did you leave on bad terms?”
“Sort of. But, Mom, that’s not what I want anyway. This business is going to give me so much more freedom and success in the future.”
“Big dreams,” she reiterated.
One of Audrey’s friends, plate full of food, sat on the lounge chair next to my mom’s. “Margot, did you say?”
“Yes, hi. Sorry, I didn’t catch everyone’s names.” Swallowing down the hurt of the conversation with my mom and trying to be cordial was harder than I anticipated. My throatsounded scratchy and raw. I slowly kicked my feet, letting the water flow between my toes and legs.
“I’m Felicity. I went to UCLA with your sister. We all did, in fact.” She pointed to the other two women in the food line with their husbands.
“Oh, is this, like, a college reunion party?” I asked.
“I guess you could call it that, but we get together quite a bit.”
My sister had friends. Good friends that she got together with regularly. She really did tick off all the boxes on her optimal living checklist. “That’s nice that you’ve stayed in touch.”
“Did you go to UCLA too? You look so familiar,” she said.
“No, I didn’t. But I am Audrey’s sister. Some people say we look alike.”
