Page 25 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
“Close enough.”
“And I’m not trading one law firm for another. I’m quitting.”
Dad drops his plate of waffles in the sink. “Is this because of some boy I don’t know about? Are you wanting to move out to shack up with him?”
“Dad!”
“Because last I checked, you can still be a lawyer even if you’re dating someone.”
“Just not after you marry him.”
Mom and Dad freeze.
“Beatrice.” Dad’s tone is angry. But maybe that’s what I am too. They’ve been dictating my life, spelling out every one of my next steps. And why? Because Mom never got to live her pantsuited courtroom dream? “Apologize.”
“For family history I didn’t write but have to atone for?”
“Young lady—”
“Old man.” Yikes, why’d that just pop out? Am I fifteen?
“Don’t you sass me. I am your father and your employer.”
“George, dear, would you get the peaches from the garage?” Mom asks Dad sweetly. After he leaves, she rounds on me. “You should have told me this earlier, honey. Now your father’s ego is on high alert.”
“I hate being a lawyer.”
“No. You hate being under your father’s wing. I understand. His overprotective streak is in rare form ever since Adam insisted law school wasn’t for him.”
“Maybe it wasn’t for me either, but I didn’t have a choice.”
“Of course you had a choice.”
“No, Mom. Disappointing my parents. Ending a family legacy. Having no time or space to figure out who I am or what my interests are. There was no choice.”
“You may be right, but you’re not being fair. Your mind is too sharp and your talent too honed to throw it all away. So this is what we’re going to do. You’re going to find whatever it is you want—your little condo on the beach—and you’ll stick with law but see how you like a more relaxed office. Having more time to be young isn’t a bad thing. A year…I think. I think you need a year to figure this out. Also…you’re going to agree to some stipulations.”
“No, I’m not. I’m a grown woman. You don’t get to dictate my life choices anymore. I’m never going to be as good as Portia or Julie. I’m not going to make partner before thirty. I’m not going to juggle babies and courtrooms. I’m not them. I’m not even sure who I am.” Not that Mom hears that last part.
“Is that what you think? Is that what this is about?”
“I made a mistake. I should have spent my youth exploring and learning about myself. Instead, I kept my nose down. I worked hard, pushed myself to clear the hurdles because I thought happiness was at the end of the law school race. But it’s not. I hate being a lawyer. I hate working for Dad.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know! I’ve asked myself this for months, and I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want to go back to school. I’ve been there, done that, and look what it got me.” Plus, it would mean trading all my fiction in for assigned reading. Assignments would suck the joy right out of everything. I’m not willing to risk the one thing I love on a crapshoot that somehow magically retracing my college steps will result in happiness. “I’m not going to burn myself out again for something I don’t care about.”
“And you blame us. Me especially. The law school dropout and hypocrite. I should have seen this coming.”
“Yes. No! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped. Work is stressful, and…” And I can’t remember the last time I was able to have a bit of fun. Not true—flirting with Mike was fun…until hehit too close to the truth. “And I’m a ball of contradictions.” I’m lonely, but I’m complaining of being stifled by my parents. I’m exhausted but also restless.
“You need an adventure… It makes perfect sense, Bea. I’ll have your father text Harry after dinner. I’m sure we can get you settled in whatever it is he does over there, international law, by week’s end. The pay might not be as good, but I’m sure we can figure something out if those La Jolla condos are out of your budget.”
I know a trap when I see one. “You’re not listening. I am done being a lawyer. I hate it.”
“You might think differently when you see the going rate for all those charming condos.”
“I’m working my—”
