Page 19 of Cruel Offer
“Of course. Lovely woman,” I lie smoothly.
“Her daughter just graduated from Penn and is taking a job right here in the city. I thought you could show her around, maybe invite her to dinner.”
“Actually, I’m seeing someone.”
The words spill out of my mouth without preamble, shocking me. My parents both stare at me, my father’s brows arching in surprise. I can’t recall the last time I toldthem I was seeing anyone, if ever. And Piper hasn’t even agreed to my offer yet.
“Oh, that’s lovely,” Mom coos. “What’s her name? Is she from New York?”
Glancing at my watch, I set my napkin on the table. “It’s getting late. We should get going so you two don’t miss the show.”
Standing, I hold the chair for my mother as she stands up.
No, Piper hasn’t accepted yet…but she will.
8
PIPER-LILY
“So,Piper-Lily, I was thinking you should apply for a semester abroad this year. Italy, maybe. Or what about Austria? The opera house in Vienna is to die for. You could always go to Paris like everyone else, I suppose. It’ll do you some good to get out in the world for a bit, don’t you think? They offer scholarships for that kind of thing. I’m sure you’d be a shoo-in with your ballet talent.”
Mom still doesn’t know I’m taking time off from school. I haven’t felt like telling her yet.
I shrug noncommittally, glad she’s too distracted to notice my apathy. She’s surveying the living room of the Hamptons cottage that isn’t ours while holding up a color swatch with various shades of warm terra cotta. A neat pile of decorating magazines perches on the edge of the coffee table, along with a fat book of fabric samples and another with wallpaper samples.
Her friends haven’t actually asked her to redecorate their guest house, because if they had, it’s all she would have talked about on repeat for days on end. Even so, hersketchpad is open on the sofa with a hand drawn blueprint of the living room on the top page and notes scribbled in on each element she’d like to change. Once she’s got a unified vision down, she’ll present it to the homeowners and see if they’re interested in bankrolling the project. Odds are, they will be.
Mom does have a gift for making things look better.
When I left for college at NYU last fall, she insisted on decorating my dorm room. My parents had wanted me to get my own apartment, but I fought back because I wanted to be on campus and get the full freshman year experience. In the end, we compromised: I got a single room, without a roommate to complain as my mother decked out the entire space in ‘thoughtful seascape’ with a palette of cool greens and blues that I initially thought would have better suited a hospital waiting room than a teenager’s dorm. But somehow the color scheme actually worked and had a calming effect on me during that stressful first year, which is exactly what she’d hoped to achieve.
“Or maybe Japan?” Looking over her shoulder at me for my response, she smiles with perfectly done lips. A pang of guilt drops into my gut. “Hand me the pink gradient, please.”
Sorting through the color swatches, I find the one she wants and hand it to her.
“The thing is, Mom, I’m not…planning on going back to school right now. We obviously can’t afford tuition at the moment, so I figured I’d defer for a while and just work until things turn around. I’m already looking for a full-time job.”
“Oh, Piper.” She slowly swivels on her heel to look atme. “Please don’t do that. We’ll just take out student loans. Your education is very important.”
Why?I think to myself. My father planned to auction me off to the highest bidder and now I’m clamoring to find a wealthy husband to save my Nana’s life. What use do I have for education? Nate Windemere said it himself. Men aren’t interested in how smart or educated you are—all they care about is that you’re attractive and willing in bed.
“College will always be there, Mom.”
She crosses her arms. “This isn’t acceptable, Piper-Lily. I don’t agree to this. You’ll go back to NYU this fall as planned.”
Deep lines fan out from her eyes, and not the kind that grow from too much smiling. This house is small, and the walls are thin. I heard my father yelling at her late into the night. At one point, they got so loud that not even my noise-canceling headphones with music blasting through them could completely block them out. I’m weighed down and groggy today and everything is irritating me.
Being shunned at the club was pure humiliation and showed me just how hard finding a marriageable man is going to be. I’m tarnished goods now. I don’t know how I’m ever going to get out from beneath the mountain my father has put on my shoulders.
Well, there is one way…one I’ve been thinking about more and more seriously since last night. Because it’s become obvious that it isn’t just my best option—it’s my only option.
“No, Mom. I’m not,” I tell her.
“Then you never will. You’ll never go back and finish your business degree or open that dance school or anyof it. Trust me. Don’t lose your momentum. You don’t want to have to rely on a man for?—”
She swallows the rest of her words and turns back to the wall, shaking her head.
That’s when it hits me. She must have had dreams and goals she never followed because she married my father. I can’t believe I never considered that before. She’s always seemed so content. Well…not recently. But growing up, I remember she always seemed so happy with our life, even when Dad was less than pleasant to be around.
