Page 77 of All Yours

“You were just arrested for what you did in Chattanooga.” Dad said.

“Questioned, not arrested.” They might press charges, but we’ll leave that out of it for now.

“There were handcuffs involved.” He pointed out.

“Speaking of Sebastian,” I said, trying to wiggle out of mom’s grasp. But she held on. “You won’t believe that he showed up here and asked me to—”

“Let me just tell you how glad I am that we found you. And how proud I am of the life you built yourself.”

“Really?” I stopped cold. They’d never expressed any pride or feelings of positivity about my accomplishments before. The focus had always been on what I could do better next time. When I won Wimbledon, they went over all the points I’d missed and made me practice those shots. My hand was trapped between the table and my mother.

“Oh my gosh, yes. You created another successful career for yourself with no name recognition at such a young age. There’s no telling what else you can do.”

“Here is your hot water and lemon,” Devin said, returning with a tray in hand. He dispersed the drinks among us. “I apologize for the cameras. The manager is working on getting rid of them.”

“We’re used to it,” Dad said.

They were? That was news to me.

“Are you guys ready to order, or do you still need a minute to go over the menu?”

“Give us a minute, please,” I said.

“Sure thing,” Devin said, scurrying away.

“What are you talking about? You’re not used to being followed around,” I said.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.” He waved it off, picking up the coffee mug and blowing the steam. “It’s best if we all remain calm.”

“Why wouldn’t we remain calm?” I asked, eyeing the bubbles in the Coke rising to the top and popping.

“We love you so much, Julia,” Mom said.

There was no way to read anything in her facial expressions because she wasn’t capable of any. But she never expressed sentiments like this. My mother was not an emotional person. She might not even be a person. Was the person sitting across from me an imposter?

“You’re my parents. Isn’t that supposed to be a given?” I asked.

She smiled through her artificially plumped lips.

“But you’ve never been one to tell me.”

“Things have changed since you’ve been gone. I’ve realized how wrong we were with the way we did some things.”

Alarm bells went off in my head. Something was wrong here.

I jerked my hand away from mom’s iron clasp. “So, what do you guys want?”

“To make up with you. That’s the whole reason we’re here. And to help you through your current situation and restore your image.” Dad said.

“And how do you propose we do that?” I asked, out of morbid curiosity.

“Well, pumpkin, the way we do that is make a reality show,” he said, picking up the mug and taking a sip of coffee.

“A reality show?” I repeated. Not sure if I’d heard him correctly.

“Yes,” mom said. “You made the papers again and are down on your luck. We come get you and take you home to help you get back on your feet, and it’s documented for a new show. The network is still working on a title. You could help with that,” she offered. “And if we work quickly, we can shoot the pilot episode of your homecoming at Christmas time. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“Did you know that Sebastian wanted me to be in a documentary about him?”

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