I’m tempted to look at some of her latest. From what I can tell, she’s only gotten better, more interesting. Bold, fascinating colors, incredible compositions. But I don’t have time for that.
She turns to me and places her brush down. Her hair is up and she looks tired. She looks her age. I can barely remember my mother looking anything but flawless, but right now, she looks like just another person.
“Good morning, Brent,” she says.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“You haven’t been up here in a long time.”
I laugh. “That’s because I’m not allowed.”
She smiles a little. “No, well, you certainly weren’t. I remember I let you up here once, when you were two. I was still pregnant with Shaun, ready to burst really.” She laughs softly. “You walked right up to my paintings, grabbed a brush still wet from the day’s work, and started making your own little marks. I was horrified, but I kept that painting. Did I ever show you? I think it’s my favorite.”
I can’t help but smile. “You never told me that story before.”
“No, I suppose I haven’t.” She clears her throat. “Well. You’re here to talk about the girl.”
“I am.”
“So let’s talk.” She shifts to face me. “I know about the news. I know about the father.”
“She’s a good person. And you have to realize he’s a bastard.”
“I watched an interview. He’s an interesting man. Very… loud.”
“He’s a monster. He broke her leg.”
She frowns. “Did he now?”
“Pushed her down stairs. It’s how this all started. I realized the breaks couldn’t be from a car crash, but…” I shake my head. “He did it. She admitted as much. And there’s more, but I can’t go into that.”
“Yes, I see. So he broke her leg. So what?” She cocks her head.
I gape at her. “So… what?”
“So what? What does that have to do with us, Brent? Come now, don’t be a child. Surely you understand the stakes here. We aren’t just some family.”
“I know, but—”
“People rely on us, Brent. Without us, people would be out of jobs. We provide for this town and for other towns all across America. And the family stays wealthy and powerful because of it. But once you began to sully our name, drag it through the mud…”
“Mother.” I stare at her. “This is a person we’re talking about.”
“Yes. And that person’s father is on television using your name. Saying horrible things.”
“So let’s speak out,” I say. “Let me go speak with the media. Let me tell her story.”
“No.” She stares at me. “Absolutely not.”
“Mother—”
“She’s a liability. I let her stay last night because you so clearly wanted it and so clearly believe in it. I think you may also be in love with her, but I’m not sure about that. You may not even realize it yourself. But this has gone further than I expected faster than I anticipated.”
“She can’t go,” I say.
“She has to.”
We stare at each other. The tension in the room is thick.
“I won’t let her leave.”
“I’ll have security escort you both out.”
I laugh, one barking, angry laugh. “You won’t. I’m the oldest and the eventual heir. You know it and I know it.”
She doesn’t say a word.
“Mother, we can’t throw her aside. I won’t do it. We have to come up with some other plan.”
“Your father is angry.”
“So let him be angry. He loves being angry. It’s his favorite thing.”
That gets a little smile. “She has to go, Brent. Sooner rather than later.”
“I won’t throw her aside,” I say again. I feel my heart racing in my chest.
I’ve never stood up to my mother like this. Oh, I’ve disobeyed her, I’ve argued, but I’ve never straight up told her that she’s wrong. My mother is a brilliant woman and she almost runs the household, but in this, I know I’m right. And I won’t back down.
She lets out a breath. “This won’t end well.”
“I know.”
“Then it’s on you.”
“I’ll take the burden.”
She turns back to her painting and takes up the brush. “Then go take it on. But you don’t have long. I won’t allow this to go on. If you force my hand, you won’t like it.”
I nod and turn, leaving the room without another word.
I descend down the steps. I hear the door close above me.
I feel the ax hanging in the air above my head, ready and waiting to drop. One mistake, and it’s finished.
But I won’t toss her aside. I won’t do that to her or to myself. She’s mine and I’m going to keep her.
Now it’s time to figure this out.17AmberI let out a low groan as Brent makes me feel so, so good.
“There you go,” he whispers. “How’s that? Deep enough?”
“Oh, god. Deeper. Please.”
He chuckles and pushes. I groan again. “Stop, okay. It hurts.”
He eases off a little bit, his grip on my knee. “Better?”
“Right there.”