Page 85 of Fun at Parties
Her shoulders droop. “How many years do I have to pay for a mistake I made? You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”
The rage that engulfs me is the deepest red, like the scab on an old wound. She is the one responsible here, for what she did back then and what she’s doing now. I can’t let her twist this into somethingI’mdoing toher.
“You want to know the part that hurts the worst?” I say. “The most egregious lie? It’s the fact that you said we were best friends. I wouldloveto be close to my mother, but you don’t care about me. You’re only interested in two things: what my success says about you, and how much money you can get from me. That ends now, by the way.”
Her eyes flash with anger, or panic, maybe, but she keeps her cool and merely scoffs. “I can’t win. You won’t help me, but I’m not allowed to help myself? At the rate we’re going, your dad and I are never going to be able to retire. All I’m trying to do is give us a little cushion. What would be good enough for you? Kindergarten teacher? Charity worker? Nun?”
“Notscammer,” I say. “Not again.”
A disgusted sound comes out of her mouth as she rollsher eyes. “News flash, Quinn. We all do a little bit of bullshitting. That kindergarten teacher gets those kids to behave by telling them a freaking elf on a shelf is reporting back to Santa. Those charity people suck up to donors. And I’m sure I don’t have to explain about the nuns!”
“That’s not…” Blood thumps in my ears, and I can’t think straight. I’ve held my own so far, but Mom is good at this. Making arguments that I can’t counter until the sensible response comes to me hours later.
“It’s not what?” she challenges, setting her hands on her hips. “What about you? This trip you’re taking, the whole independent-woman-on-a-big-adventure thing. All the words of wisdom. You’re bending reality too.”
It’s a precision hit, right where it hurts most. “It’s not the same.” My voice wavers. “I’m helping people.”
A tear streaks down her face. She dabs carefully at her eye, trying not to smudge her makeup. “Oh, okay. When you try to help people, it’s fine. When I try to help people—to make them feel good about themselves, to get them comfortable in their skin, it’s not fine. Just like in the Jolee days. I was trying to help women build their own income stream, not to mention their self-worth. You have no idea what it’s like. You’re so hard on me. I did my best. And guess what? You learned a few things from me, whether you like it or not.”
My throat burns. “I’m nothing like you.”
“Like it would be so horrible.” She wipes another tear.
I waver. Am I being too hard on her? But no—she’s spinning things. What she did with Jolee was wrong, and so is what she’s doing now.
“As wonderful as this visit has been,” I say, “I think I’mgoing to go. If you take the video about me down today, I’ll keep making the payments on the loan. But that’s it. No more money.”
Her face hardens. “We took out that loan for your benefit. To give you stability during a difficult time. And it’s in your name.”
“You’relying.You used that money on Jolee while the business was falling apart. If I have to, I’ll talk to a lawyer about my options. Identity theft is illegal.” I have no idea if I’d have a case against her, or even if I’d be willing to pursue it. But I can lie too.
She opens her mouth to speak, but I’m done. The house is a blur as I storm out of it. My own mother has used and manipulated me. Consistently. And because I am who I am, I’ve always hoped for better, but it’s time to give up. I will never have the kind of parent who loves me unconditionally, who calls to say hello or sends me articles about why blue light at night is bad for my health. Any family I have is going to have to be one I make for myself.
No matter what I do, I’m never going to be able to shake her completely. Whether I like it or not, she’s right about one thing: I did learn a few things from her. They’re part of me, and I don’t think I’d be as successful without them. Her tenacity. Her charm. The way she molds the truth into whatever the situation requires. She’s passed these things on to me, like inherited traits. Or an inherited disease.
The worst part is that I’m not missing something I never had. My memories of early childhood include unconditional love: Mom stroking my face after anightmare until I fell back asleep, Mom sewing up my favorite stuffed elephant after a hole appeared below its ear, telling me the best things are a little bit broken.
Jolee brought out the worst in her, the way furniture and lighting bring out the undertones in a paint color. Greed and selfishness may have always been inside her, but they didn’t have to become her most prominent features. Jolee fostered them, let them grow until they choked out everything else like weeds.
I can’t let that happen to me.
Chapter 29
In the car, tears streamdown my face, dripping onto my thighs. Thanks to the adrenaline surge, it feels like my bones are vibrating inside my body. I know I’m supposed to let these horrible emotions run their course, but it’s too much.
Nate texted me an address where I’m supposed to meet him—I guess he took an Uber?—but my hands are shaking on the steering wheel. I pull into a convenience store parking lot to gather myself.
While we were driving into North Carolina this morning, on a highway cut through thick swaths of trees, I asked how he was feeling about his pitch.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Weirdly calm. Part of me has known since Tahoe that Logan’s answer was going to be a no, but I guess I was in denial. It was easier to convince myself we just needed to talk than it was to make the leap to going after the camp on my own. To feeling like I deserve it.”
“You do deserve it,” I said.
“I know that now. And I don’t know what’s going to happen in the end, but I want to try.”
I set my hand on the back of his neck, rubbing his nape with my thumb. “I’m proud of you.”
“It’s good to try, right? Because the alternative…” He glanced at me. “The alternative can’t possibly be the right thing to do.”
