Chapter 18 #2
“I just wanted to talk. About Victoria,” I said, hunching my shoulders. “Has she been talking to you?”
She drew herself taller, crossing her arms defensively. “She told me about her job offer in Seattle,” she said in a ghost of a voice.
Nan came into the room with a glass of eggnog, and she handed it my way. “Drink up, it’s good for you.”
“It’s definitely not,” I said. “Not with all that rum in it, it isn’t.”
“Oh, don’t be a daft monkey, I knew you drove here, there’s no rum in this one. That’s why it’s good for you.”
I guess healthy living wasn’t the highest priority over a hundred years old.
As far as I’d heard it, Nan was approaching her hundred and third birthday running on sheer spite and determination to outlive her daughter-in-law.
Either way, I took the eggnog. I’d been hoping to have the conversation just with Miss Jameson, but I guess Nan was a part.
“Victoria and I were… sort of together,” I said, and Nan shook her head.
“They were bumping uglies while pretending there was nothing more to it, is what she means.”
“Grandma,” Miss Jameson said, going white in the face.
“But we’re done now,” I said. “She’s probably going to leave, and even if she doesn’t, she doesn’t want to accept her own feelings, so I guess it’s done, even though I swear if there’s anything I could have done to change her mind, then I would have.”
“I don’t know what…” Miss Jameson started, but she trailed off, wide eyes fixed warily on me.
“When I was here on Christmas, I asked you if she ever gets to reach out to you, talk about how she feels, if she’s safe here, if you reach out and tell her you love her or anything like that. Did you?”
Fire flickered in Miss Jameson’s eyes, drawing herself defensively tighter. “I don’t know why you’re here telling me how to handle my family and my own daughter—”
“Oh, Miranda,” Nan sighed, “you love the girl when she compliments you and you get all haughty when she calls you out. Be the bigger person. Can’t let Bridget be the bigger person here, she’s smaller than I am.”
“Barely!” I huffed.
Miss Jameson pursed her lips. “So you’re saying it’s my fault this happened, because I didn’t love her enough?”
I guess. I didn’t know what I was saying.
I just wanted to cry and break down and give up on ever caring about anything again, but before I gave out, I wanted to at least do something that would help Victoria be happy.
Even if it wasn’t with me. What a sucker I’d turned out to be.
“I don’t know,” I said. “No, actually, I do know. Yeah, I am saying that. Not just you, but a whole world of people who never cared about her no matter how hard she tried. No wonder she never feels like she’s good enough.
And maybe there’s no fixing that damage, but why would you not at least try?
While you and your daughter are still alive, reach out and tell her you love her and that you’re proud of her, just so that she can feel okay with herself for one day?
Maybe I’m out of my mind for saying it, but hell, I just want her to be happy,” I said, my voice cracking at the end, and I wiped my face.
I guess I was crying. Ugh. Falling for girls sucked.
“I know it looks simple on the outside,” Miss Jameson said, her voice tight, “but it’s more complex than—”
“Oh, come off it, Miranda,” Nan said, before she knocked back her eggnog.
“It’s perfectly simple. Bridget’s right.
Even when Vicky’s back in town like you said you wanted, you’re barely acknowledging the girl, and when you do, it’s to complain about her brother’s boyfriend who she likes.
All nasty business, complaining about this, complaining about that.
No wonder she wants out. If I were younger, I’d strike out and go be a stripper at Vegas. ”
Miss Jameson huffed, shaking her head. “Well, we’re lucky at least Bridget has better sense than you, Grandma.”
“Not really,” I said. “My actual job is making lesbian smut on the internet.”
Miss Jameson stared at me. “I… I beg your pardon?”
“Yeah, I post videos and little sexy stories and do erotic audio recordings. Sex blogging and, like, product reviews…”
“I—I see.”
“They’re pretty popular, actually. Companies send me toys to review them. It’s a good lifestyle.” I drank the eggnog, setting the glass down on the sideboard by the door. Felt liberating to really burn the bridges, enjoying Miss Jameson’s sheet-white face, especially when Nan made it worse.
“Oh, that doesn’t sound half-bad,” she said. “Enterprising young woman. Entrepreneurial, too.”
“Entre… entrepreneurial,” Miss Jameson said, nodding blankly. “So you’re… you’re a… porn star,” she said, saying the last part in a sharp, hushed whisper.
“I wouldn’t really call myself that. Porn stars are generally, like, actors who go to shoots for studio-produced porn,” I said, and Miss Jameson got more and more mortified with each word.
“I just make general erotic content, independently, so I prefer adult content creator. No shade to porn stars, though, I’ve got plenty of friends who are, they just have totally different skillsets than I do. ”
Nan elbowed Miss Jameson. “See, she’s an expert in her field, too. Really knows her stuff.”
“So Victoria’s been dating a porn star,” Miss Jameson murmured, and I put my hands on my hips.
“You weren’t even listening to me, were you?”
“How much does it make?” Nan said, and I shrugged.
“It varies a lot… but I’ve been really inspired the past few months, so I’ve been kind of raking it in recently.”
“Maybe I need to get into the field too,” she said, and Miss Jameson gave her a horrified look.
“Grandma. You’re a dignified woman. Don’t even talk like that.”
“Dignified enough to know what I want, and a little extra change in my pocket and companies sending me free sex toys sounds like it’s right up there.”
Footsteps came into the room, and I looked up at where Victoria’s great-uncle Rob came into the room, still looking as ever like all he needed was a tweed cap and a pipe to complete his ensemble, and he said, “What’s all the fuss about? I’m trying to read in here.”
“Nothing is happening,” Miss Jameson said quickly. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
I spoke up. “I was just telling Miss Jameson to make an effort with her daughter—”
“And about Bridget’s saucy little job making smut on the internet,” Nan said. “I was thinking of getting in on the field.”
“Grandma,” Miss Jameson pleaded. Uncle Rob looked briefly like he’d pass out.
“Oh, you’re… so you’re an… one of those actresses,” he said.
“Oh my god, no, we’ve covered this,” I said. “I’m an independent multimedia adult content creator.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. I knew the look. Man was wondering if he recognized me. I had a decent number of men who watched my stuff, but I was definitely targeted towards the girlies. I was probably safe. “Is that any different?” he said. “That’s all a bit… undignified.”
“That’s between you and Incognito Mode, Uncle Rob,” I said. He paled. Clearly thought nobody knew what went on behind closed doors, as if we weren’t assuming from the fact that he was a man over sixty.
“Listen,” Miss Jameson said, “you being a porn actress isn’t the important part—”
“Yeesh, it’s my career, so it’s at least important enough for you to get it right!”
“The important part is that you don’t know one tenth of me and Victoria, and I don’t appreciate you coming in and telling me how to run things in my own family.”
“Have it your way, Miranda,” I said, and she flinched just a little at the way I dropped her name. I turned back to the door. “I just wanted to say that and let all of this go.”
Miss Jameson fumbled trying to say something—whether it was supposed to be a witty retort or telling me to stop, I’d never know, because she didn’t finish, and I plucked my outerwear off the rack and stepped outside, breathing in the biting cold air that stung in my lungs.
Well, hard part done. Now just to avoid Victoria in my own home for another week.