“Yes. I hear you. What’s next, darling? CEO?”
“God, no!” Felicity shuddered at the thought. “I mean, COO is where the power is at my company.”
“I see. Which means you’ve finally done it.” Her mother’s tone was more speculative now. “You’ve summited Everest. Is it everything you wished for?”
Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Felicity brooded on that silently for a moment.
“Ah. I see.”
Felicity didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s great, obviously.” That came out weird.
“Yes, it sounds so great,” her mother said dryly. “All right, darling. What’s wrong?”
“I’m trying to work out what makes me happy,” Felicity admitted.
“That’s a good question for you,” her mother said earnestly, “and I’m glad you’re finally asking it. I worried about you so much as a child. You were always so determined about everything. You weren’t interested in having fun or getting into mischief or staying out late like other children. No, you were all about finding your focus and studying. And when your sister did better than you in school, you spent all your vacation time hitting the books to beat her.”
“I did,” Felicity said with satisfaction.
“And do you remember what happened then?”
Felicity paused. “No.”
“You asked me for better books. For older reading ages. You wanted the next challenge, then the next, and the next.”
“Right.” She vaguely remembered that. It did explain how a ninth grader had a disturbingly high knowledge of biophysics for a while. Her mother’s textbooks had been a distraction until the next challenge came along. “But it wasn’t enough.”
“No, darling. I discovered with you that nothing was ever enough. There has never been a more driven child on God’s green earth, I’m quite sure.”
“I suppose not. What’s wrong with being driven?”
“Nothing at all, if it gets you what you want and that makes you happy. Which I suspect is why you’re calling. You’ve finally climbed as high as you could. Hit the heavens and still aren’t happy. And you want your mom to tell you why?”
“Okay. Why?” Felicity whispered.
“Because succeeding is nothing without people to share it with. Because the thing you don’t have in your life is another person to be happy for you, too.”
“Not everyone needs people. Hell, you’re still single. And Dad was awful and left you.” Us, she silently amended.
“You think me being without a romantic partner means I’m without people in my life? My staff are wonderful. My friends are such a blessed tonic to anything that ails me. Heather and her family are better pick-me-ups than any pills. I have my darling animals to warm my bed. I’m as content and happy as I can be right now. But if I did find someone new, that would be beautiful, too. Although it’s a bit hard to meet a match at my age with the hours I work and being as round as a bowling ball.” She cackled.
Felicity winced. Even though her mother was the one making the joke, one Felicity had repeated over the years, it no longer felt funny. Why would it? Felicity loved the softness, weight, and beauty of Cooper’s body, how it felt to trace her curving stomach around to her thick thighs and feel that power and substantialness. Yet Felicity had spent her whole life side-eying people who didn’t fit some arbitrary thin ideal. And she’d done it for such a ludicrous reason: because her father judged people for their weight.
Secondhand biases had to be the stupidest of them all. They were so thoughtless, so empty. They weren’t even their owner’s own considered, stupid opinion.
How pathetic. Felicity couldn’t believe she’d never seen her sarcastic little commentary on her family for what it was before. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I dread to think what has prompted your first apology in twenty years.” Amusement was clear in her mother’s voice.
“I used to think I was so funny telling people I was escaping my genetics by being on a constant diet. I loved quoting your bowling-ball line as hilarious proof. Add to that the fact I’ve been trying to pretend for so long that I’m not from our family or our town, along with a whole host of other self-loathing drivel, and the truth is—I am.”
“You are what, darling?” Her mother’s voice was kind.
“I am your daughter. I am from Pinckney. And I do love you, and I truly don’t want to be that shallow person who obsesses over what my family looks like. And, Mom, you look fine! You’re a total catch.”
Her mother laughed softly. “You do realize I don’t care what anyone thinks about my looks. I’m me. People can take me or leave me, love me or not. I’m just who I am.”
Whoa. Felicity’s breath caught in wonder. Why couldn’t she be more like her mother? She paused at that out-of-character thought.
“That’s admirable, Mom. I wish the world was more like you. Right now I’m so tired of being embarrassed or afraid I’ll be judged for my roots. I’ve been such an ass.” She drew in a sharp breath. “An ashamed, cowardly ass. I promise I’ll do better in the future.”
“I appreciate the sentiment. Is this about your father?” her mother asked gently. “Every time you bring up our family genetics, career goals, or hometown, it always somehow comes back to him.”
“It’s always about Dad. Everything is. And it’s about me. He left us, Mom,” Felicity said flatly. “He left, and I was crushed, and until really recently I’ve always thought we were why. I believed our family was too embarrassing for him when he had perfect Tiffany to race after. Now I’ve started to wonder why I think that. Where did I come up with that idea? Or maybe I’m having a midlife crisis at thirty-seven!”
“Darling, I love that you’re asking questions at long last. I often wished you would, but you always pushed the topic away.”
“It hurt too much.”
“And now?”
“Now the answers about what Dad did matter far more than any old wounds.”
“I have my own thoughts, of course, but the scientist in me is most intrigued to hear if you’ve reached any conclusions.”
“Okay.” Felicity thought hard. “Now I think Dad leaving wasn’t about us. He was just a cheating asshole who probably didn’t even need an excuse to leave.”
“Quite the hypothesis.” Her mother drew in a breath. “And that’s why you’re re-evaluating all your old views about us?”
