Page 34 of The Sound of Temptation

“Are you going let that sorry ass man beat you?”

“He beat everyone else. Why should I be any different?”

“Pathetic is not your color, Elisabeth.”

“You’re not helping,” I groan.

“I taught you to help yourself, child. Sit up, right now. Fight your corner, darling,”

Her command, spoken without raising her voice, has the effect of dunking my head in a bucket of ice water.

As the oldest of five children, with a mother who was chronically ill and a father who drank the way most of us breathed, she managed to raise herself and all of them out of poverty with the sheer force of her determination. She fights for the people she loves and I’m so lucky to be one of them. I don't know what I would have done without her after my mother left. “I’m up and I’m listening.” I say with as much energy as I can muster.

“Good. Now, you’ve been in tighter, darker, more treacherous corners. Right? Tell me what you’re fighting for.”

“Better than I’ve been offered,” I answer, by rote.

“You keep saying that. But what does it mean?”

I frown, at the blank my mind draws. I've been saying it so long, I don’t even think about that anymore. “Well, I’ve been trying to fin

d a job so I can get myself to New York without my father’s help or blessing.”

“Oh my God, Beth.” I can imagine her pulling her hair in frustration.

I’m instantly defensive. “What? It’s true.”

Her answering sigh is weary. “You need to do some soul-searching and be clear about what you really want.”

“I already know what I want.”

“How is a job in New York more than you’re offered when you’re a talented artist and an heiress?”

“I’m only an heiress if I get married,” I remind her.

“There are harder ways to get rich”

“I don’t want to be rich. I want to be free.”

“That’s what Phil said, and where did that get him?”

My heart twists at the thought of my brother being out there. “He’s finding his way.”

She scoffs. ”Finding his way? Where? How? He’s broke and lives on whatever scraps he takes home from the restaurant.”

“His restaurant,” I remind her.

“The bank’s restaurant. If he’d just married the girl your father liked, he could have had his restaurant, and the beauty he gave it all up for would be alive.

I’m mad at him for leaving me, but I understand what drove him. And I feel compelled to defend him. “But he loved her.”

She kisses her teeth. “He wanted to sleep with her. If he’d really loved her, he would have put his pride aside, and maybe she wouldn’t have died in a county hospital of something that money could have prevented.”

“How can you say that? I thought you supported my plan to leave?”

“I did. But it didn’t work. And now, you need to move on to plan B.”

I’m aghast. “You think I should get married? I’ll never trust anyone enough to tie my life to theirs. I'm sorry. It's not going to happen.”

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