“Trust me,” she says. “There’s a reason I was always in so much trouble in high school.”
“Aside from your behavior?”
She grins. “Aside from that.”
We move off the more serious subjects and just chat. We have a lot more to talk about than we thought. She tells me funny stories about her time in Europe, and I tell her about the art class with Mr. Prince. She thinks the story about Christian modeling naked is funny as well. It reminds me that tomorrow we have to do it all over again, and I take a sip of water to cool down the sudden heat. I’m not going to go into details of my sex life with my sister, and I’m having to fight off flashes of us in that damn closet.
But Celia saves me from myself. She’s excited about the fact that I’m going to have art in a gallery, and tells me something I never knew. “I always thought you’d be a really good artist. I hoped that you would go against Mom and Dad’s wishes and try to make it.”
“I don’t know if I loved it enough to do that,” I say. “Besides, I don’t really think I’m that good.”
Celia snorts. “If you’re good enough to get into an exclusive workshop with Alexander Prince,” she says, “you’re good enough to do almost anything.”
“That’s sweet of you.”
“You told M and Dad about that, right?”
I wince. “No, I haven’t. I will though, before the showing at the gallery.”
“The sooner the better,” she says. “You want them to have time to adjust to the idea if they don’t like it.”
“You’re probably right.”
We finish our lunches and before long, it’s time for me to go back to work. I give my sister a hug, and this time it’s a real one. “This was really nice,” I say. “I’m glad we did this.”
“Yeah, me too.” She hugs me back, and then pokes me in the arm. “And call Mom. Tell her about the art show.”
I laugh. “I will.”
She pops off down the street, slipping headphones on and dancing through the crowd. With that hair, she’s visible for blocks and it makes me smile.
It turns out I don’t have time to call Mom until after work, but I do call her. She answers almost immediately. “Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Hey, Audrey,” she says. “I heard you had lunch with Celia.”
“Yeah, it was really good. I definitely think we are on the right track with the party.”
I can practically hear her smiling through the phone. “Good, that’s just what I wanted to hear.”
“I also have something else to tell you. I hope you’ll be all right with it.”
“What is it?” she asks. “Are you pregnant?”
I try to ignore the pure hope in her voice. “No, I’m not pregnant yet. But, I’ve been taking an art class. A workshop, really, with Alexander Prince. In a few weeks, at the end of the workshop, there’s going to be a show for all the students. I would really love if you and Dad would come.”
There’s a pause and then, “Of course we’ll come! Why would you ever think we wouldn’t?”
I stop on the street, thinking about the correct way to say this. “Well, when I talked about pursuing art, you and dad weren’t very excited. I didn’t know if that had changed.”
“Well, are you quitting your job to become an artist?”
“Of course not.”
“Then I don’t see the problem with you doing a little art in your spare time. All your father and I ever wanted was you to have some stability. In fact, that’s what we still want.”
I’m sure if any of the people on the street were to look at me they’d either be confused or scared by the face I’m making. “Why don’t I have stability now?”
Mom clears her throat uncomfortably. “You’re trying to get pregnant,” she says. “We’re very happy that we’re going to have a grandchild at some point, but of course we’d rather you be with someone. You know, somebody solid. Somebody who would be with you through the entire process.”
“Do you want me to have a baby or do you want me to have a relationship?”
“Oh, sweetie. I want you to have both. But since that doesn’t seem to be working, were going to be happy with just the baby.”
A simmering, sparkling rage rises beneath my skin, but I do my best to keep it out of my voice. “Okay, Mom, I’m at my train. I’ll send you the details of the art show as soon as I have them.”
The fact that she’s still all sweetness and light just makes me angry. “All right, honey. Remember, Celia’s party is a week from Friday.”
“I won’t forget,” I choke out before hanging up the phone.
Nothing I ever do is good enough for her. When I was with Christian, it wasn’t good enough that we were together, we should have been married. Once we broke up, I never should have been with him to begin with. Now that I’m having a baby, I should be with someone before I have a baby. Once I have the baby, she’ll probably go back to trying to set me up with people. I don’t know how to make her happy, or if I’ll ever be able to.