Chapter 11 #2
It’s hard not to smile at Mom being visibly flustered by the fact that another woman is taking control in her own home.
Agnes tells my dad and Jacob to eat more vegetables, constantly making sure everyone’s drinks are topped up, and mixes the food in the alcohol burner to make sure it’s evenly heated. All jobs reserved for the host.
I’m pretending not to notice Mom’s spearing looks my way as if this is my fault that someone else deems her to be an inadequate host.
But this time, when a lull happens, Thomas takes it upon himself to fill the silence.
“Tita Christine was telling me that you’re looking at going back to studying,” he directs at me.
I almost don’t catch myself from flinching. I’m not sure whether to be appreciative or frightened of his bright, inquisitive eyes, like he’s genuinely interested in what I have to say.
I sip apple juice to clear my throat. “Nothing has been decided yet.”
Preorder sales are going really well, and although my social media isn’t getting as much traffic as it first did when Leo’s friends were harassing me, the fashion-influencing gig is making up the difference, even if I am slowing down with it.
“You know, you’re still young,” Agnes says, spooning more rice onto her and her husband’s plates. “Have fun. You have plenty of time to decide what you want to do.”
Mom scoffs. “She isn’t getting any younger. I always told her she never should’ve left college for a hobby.”
I bite my tongue and try not to remind her that when my hobby was going well, she borrowed money from me to get her teeth fixed. The same teeth she doesn’t hesitate to use to talk down to me.
I fight back a grin as Tita Agnes waves her off, and Mom’s jaw tics. “Eh, no need to study yet. No point if you’re planning on having kids soon.”
Both Thomas and I look like a couple of deer in headlights.
Agnes winks. “Just kidding. You should see the look on both your faces.” She elbows her son. “You need to make more money first.”
Jacob chuckles, and the friendly amusement on Thomas’s face heightens. I swallow down the hint of jealousy over their casual interaction. I’ve never had anything remotely similar to their easy banter with my own parents. They look genuinely happy, and like they actually love each other.
“I’m making the intern money,” Thomas tells me.
“For now,” my dad says.
Jacob grunts in agreement.
“He’s the best intern they have,” Mom boasts, like she’s trying to sell me a car.
“I’m the only intern they have.” Thomas and Agnes’s smiles turn beaming at the same time. “They fired two for having relations together, and one was drinking on the job,” he explains.
That’s my first laugh of the night. Okay, maybe I was too harsh. I don’t remember Thomas being this cool.
“What do you write?” He changes the topic.
I almost choke on my food even though I saw this question coming a mile away. Regardless of how I frame it, saying “romance—and yes, there’s sex in it” will never be easily digestible to anyone who doesn’t read the genre.
“Fantasy,” Mom answers for me.
My brows hike up my forehead. I wrote one book with an elf in there, and she’s been hanging on to that genre and completely ignoring the romantic elements.
“Wow. Like Lord of the Rings?” This is the first sign of interest coming from Jacob.
“Or Game of Thrones?” Thomas adds.
“More like . . . Vampire Diaries.” It’s the first thing that comes to mind.
Every person at the table gives me a blank look. I’m not sure whether it’s because they have never heard of it or they’re mortified by the admission in general.
“A mix of all of that, right, Jasmina?” Mom quickly adds, giving me the look that says, Shut up and nod.
“I’m more . . .” I clear my throat. Mom’s gaze burns into me. Bury me in a hole. “I do a mix of different genres . . . like that, and contemporary.”
A genuine, heartwarming, honest smile splits across Thomas’s face. “I’d love to read it sometime.”
Absolutely fucking not. “No, that’s not—”
“Let me buy a book, and you can sign it. I can tell everyone I know a famous author.” Agnes winks at me, wriggling her shoulders.
I glance at Mom, expecting her to downplay it, but for once she’s nodding like she might actually agree. I scoff internally. Of course. We have guests. She knows she has a penny of a daughter, and she’s going to build me up as if I’m the Empire State Building.
“I’m not famous.”
Agnes tsks, waving me off. “Shush. I remember hearing all about how many hours people waited to see you.” That was almost two years ago. Things change. “Imagine that, Jacob. We’ll get to say that our daughter-in-law is a celebrity.”
Thomas blanches and gives me an apologetic look on his mom’s behalf. All I can offer is a tight-lipped smile before staring down at my half-eaten plate as I wonder what my life would look like if I had a family even half as supportive as Agnes.
Would I be questioning my career path? Looking at going back to school because I’m struggling to pay bills? Obsessing over a fucking man who doesn’t know who I really am?
Maybe . . . maybe I should give this whole set-up thing a go. I mean, would it be so bad? I’d get to have Agnes as a mother-in-law, and I don’t really know what Leo’s mom is like as a person. What if she’s just like mine?
What if I never get anywhere with Leo? I’m going to need to move on with my life. What if I stop writing and have to go back to school? Do I want to be alone forever?
No, I don’t.
So at the end of the night, when we’re walking them to the door and Thomas asks for my number, I give it to him. And in the morning, when he texts, I reply.