“Well, dear,” Bridget said calmly, “we did get a call from your landlady.”
“What?!!” Elena said, her voice rising with her shock.
“She said that you were late with your rent,” Bridget said, “and you’d been late with your rent for the past three months. I am listed as your emergency contact, after all.”
Elena closed her eyes for a minute and cursed Mrs. Levitan internally.
“I have another couple of days to make rent,” Elena said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll make it.”
“Oh Elena,” Bridget said despairingly, “if you need money, I can lend you money.”
“No… I can manage.”
“You obviously can’t,” Bridget cut in harshly. “You have student loans to pay, too.”
Elena felt her muscles tense.
“I’m aware, Mother,” she said.
“There’s no need to take that tone, Elena,” Bridget said with excessive calm, “we’re you’re family and we’re trying to help.”
Elena rose to her feet. “If you really wanted to help – you would have supported my decision to go to art school. You would have helped me pay my tuition. If you wanted to help, you would have encouraged my dreams instead of trying to trample them.”
Bridget gave an exaggerated sigh. “One day, Elena, you will be forced to grow up, and when that day comes you will realize that your father and I were right to try and dissuade you from this ridiculous career choice you have made.”
“You are not right,” Elena said forcefully.
Emily stood too, cutting off Bridget before she could speak.
“For God’s sake, Elena,” she said bracingly, “you have no hope of making it as a sculptor. You’re inability to make rent proves that. You’ve tried this for three years now, don’t you think it’s time to throw in the towel?”
Elena took a deep breath.
“And by throw in the towel you mean--”
“Move back in with us for a little while,” Bridget said. “Daddy will set you up in one of his businesses, and once you’re back on your feet, you can get a place of your own.”
Elena didn’t say anything. She had a billion thoughts flitting through her head, but not one of them seemed to make it to her tongue. She looked back and forth between her mother and her sister, and finally, she turned her back on them and walked away.
Chapter4
Neal blinked at the open space in front of him. It felt like he was falling, but he took a step forward and the ground seemed steady beneath him. He took a deep breath and shook his head.
“Can you repeat that again,” he said calmly, “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
The sound of Clifford’s voice was deep, resonating and sympathetic. He repeated the same thing that Neal had heard the first time. Again, Neal felt as though someone was playing a cruel trick on him. There was no way what Cliff was saying was making any sense.
“Neal?” Cliff’s voice sounded concerned. “Neal, are you listening to me?”
“I… I was up late last night,” Neal said apologetically. “I think I’m still a little hung over, and nothing you said is making sense. I’ll call you back when I can get my head on straight.”
He heard Cliff’s protests but he had already cut the line. He shook his head again for good measure and sank into his couch. The glare from the open windows was giving him a migraine and so he got up and walked into his bedroom, turned down the blinds and got into bed. He was really getting too old for those kind of parties,
Neal told himself, enjoying the cool comfort of the dark room. His next birthday would be his thirtieth and he was starting to realize that while his mind seemed to be firmly fixed in his twenties, his body was aging unapologetically. He pushed a pillow under his head, turned on his side and settled in for a little nap.
“When I wake up,” Neal told himself severely, “I’ll call Cliff back and he’ll tell me about some boring board meeting that I have to attend. That’s all he’ll tell me. That’s it.”