Page 2 of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree
At this point in the interview, Hollie Berry removed her microphone. So while we can’t know exactly what she said to Mr. Tucker as a parting shot, the middle finger salute she gave him as she stormed off stage was pretty clear.
CHAPTER 1
LILAH
“Call fromMother. Answer?” The robotic voice is about as excited as I am about my mother’s call.
I roll my eyes. I would think after the third unanswered call, my mother would take the hint. But I can predict what happens if I decline it again.
Another call.
This one probably during the band meeting I’m running late for.
“Yes,” I grit out.
“Am I finally important enough to earn a moment of your time?” Her tone tells me exactly how this conversation will go, and I grind my molars together so I can make it through as unscathed as possible.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I keep getting your voice mail.”
“I’m driving.” My response is more of a sigh than words. What is it about her that makes me revert back to a sixteen-year-old?
“If you lived at home, you wouldn’t need to drive. Our drivers can take you anywhere in San Francisco.”
Which is exactly why I don’tlivein San Francisco.
But I keep that comment to myself.
“I live in LA,” I remind her. “And I have a job, remember?”
I was over the moon when I was selected to join Just One Yesterday, and I foolishly thought my family would be excited too.
Wrong.
They told me it was time to give up my little music “hobby” and come back to San Francisco and settle down, a.k.a., marry a junior executive from my parents’ company and become a lady who lunches. Like my mother. And my sisters.
Pass. I have zero interest in becoming the fourth—not counting my extended family—Stepford wife in my family. My Aunt Sarah, who is an archaeologist currently living at a site in Montana, is the only other woman to buck the status quo.
“Of course I remember. I’m your mother. I remember all of your hobbies.”
“It’s not a hobby, it’s a job. One I’m good at.”
“I sometimes feel like your father and I made a mistake entertaining your interest in music.”
Because, according to her, Juilliard is nothing but a hobby. A waste of time and effort.
Do not lose your shit, do not lose your shit. It’s not worth it.
Thank god I’m almost to Chris’s house. Then I have an excuse to end the call.
Or I could feign terrible cell service. Itissketchy a little farther back in the hills. But I’m not going to avoid my problems. I simply try to keep them from getting bigger.
Hence why I pretend to be the daughter my mother wants.
“Was there something you needed, Mother?”
“I’m calling about the holiday.”
