“Yeah. That, uh, that sounds good.”
There was a small moment of awkward silence, and I shifted a little on my feet. “Right, well, I’m gonna go.”
They nodded, and something moved in Angelica’s eyes, but it was gone before I could figure out what that might be.
I turned and walked out the door awkwardly.
I smiled on my way to the car, suddenly excited about my day.
And to think it had started out so crappy.
I turned on the car radio as I drove to campus.
The day was a little cloudy, but it wasn’t windy, and I didn’t mind it much as long as it wasn’t windy. Berkeley wasn’t anywhere near as crowded as Los Angeles, but it was compared to other places in the US. Thankfully, the campus wasn’t too far from the apartment. I could get there within fifteen minutes, even running into minor traffic.
My phone rang just as I pulled into the parking lot, and my car’s Bluetooth system kicked in, showcasing the word MOM in capital letters on the screen.
I was half-tempted to ignore the call, but knowing how worried and paranoid she got, I knew it was better to just pick up.
I sat in my car and left it on as I answered the call.
“Hey, Mom, I can’t talk long. I just got to school.”
There was a small beat of silence on her end before she said, “I thought your class doesn’t start until nine-thirty. What are you doing at school so early?”
“I thought I would come to the coffee shop and brush up on my studying before a big test,” I lied.
“Oh,” was all she said for a moment. She didn’t sound like she believed me. I didn’t blame her, but she wasn’t going to call me out on the lie, and I was going to pretend that she did believe me.
“Well, all right. I’ll let you get to it. I was just checking up on you.”
The worry in her voice took away any snark I might have made at that moment. She was just worried about me, in her own way, her only child.
“I know,” I said softly. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, dear.”
I waited until she hung up before letting out a tired sigh.
We used to be close.
When I was little, I had wanted nothing more than to be just like her when I grew up.
Vivian Hudson was born a society princess. She grew up to be a society queen, easily taking her place in marriage and in that world.
There was something delicate but strong about her.
Something elegant and mesmerizing.
There was no way she would have married anyone who didn’t elevate her status, which was why she married my father.
Growing up, I didn’t know that.
My parents had always seemed to get along well. Unlike my childhood friends’ parents, they never fought.
Despite the state our family was in, my parents—and me, to some extent—were really good at projecting the image we wanted others to see.
Everyone always commented how great it was that we seemed to bounce back from such a horrible incident.