Chapter 18 #2
“Oh, you know, the usual. Some kids in Congress were acting up again. I had a stern talk with a couple bullies from the business community. And I received a nice briefing about art education initiatives from our country’s most talented artists.”
“Cool. I got my first brain freeze today.”
“That’s nice. Sounds like you’re collecting firsts during your visit.” I hold my breath as she continues. “Including reaching out to my campaign staff about a festival?”
I cringe. “What did Tita tell you?”
“I want to hear from you.”
My insides feel like jelly. Maybe I shouldn’t have used Mom’s contacts for assistance, but at the end of the day I’m just asking for advice. And it’s all volunteer work. That’s the point I should emphasize. And then I will spin this, so everything ends on a positive note.
Mom speaks up. “Before you begin, don’t bother trying to spin this in a way that ends on a positive note.”
My nose scrunches. I can’t get away with anything with her.
“I can already see the face you’re making. Believe me, I know how you think. You’re my daughter, after all.” I’ve heard that line so many times, it’s one of my go-to Mom impersonations.
“Fine. If you know what I’m thinking then you know that I’m doing nothing wrong. In fact, I’m helping a small business. Something that you champion.”
“I do champion small businesses,” she says. “But when I hear from colleagues that you’re helping a business that might be competing with one of the Darbys’ hotels, I expect to hear this kind of news from you, and not a campaign worker.”
My stomach flips. “Mom, it’s not like the Calabreses’ inn poses any threat to the Darby family. I’m pretty sure they spend more on toilet paper than what the inn makes in a year.”
I imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not that, honey, it’s the optics.”
“Which is what? FDOTUS is volunteering at a Fourth of July festival, which has nothing to do with the Darbys’ hotel.”
She sighs. “And don’t think for a moment I don’t know that you are using this activity to be able to leave the inn.”
I cringe. Freedom to work through my bucket list is part of the arrangement Gabe and I made, but I don’t tell her that. “Mom, I’m not trying to game being grounded. I really do think volunteering in a small community is a good thing. It’s one of the ideas you used to campaign on.”
I picture her massaging her forehead as she considers her words. “I think what you’re doing to help Tita Karra’s friends in the end is worthwhile.”
She agrees with me. I’ll take the win. “But this doesn’t mean you have free rein,” she adds.
“Remember, you are to stay out of the media. No drawing attention. And you will return on July first to resume your duties as First Daughter. Which I think you know means you won’t be able to participate in the jubilee on the Fourth. ”
“I get it, Mom. Manage my expectations and all that.” I knew I wouldn’t be able to go, but some small part of me had hoped. Her saying it out loud feels like a gut punch.
Her exhale is slow and heavy. I know she has a lot going on, on top of parenting. The last thing I want to do is make things worse for her.
“Oliver will be back at the White House’s Independence Day Gala.” I hear levity in my mom’s voice, and I wonder if she’s already assuming we’re together.
“Great,” I say. I wonder how he’s doing—not that it’s hard to guess.
He’s so predictable. I could probably script his day.
It’s been tough not being able to call or text with no reception out here.
But if I’m being honest, I wasn’t exactly checking for bars at the lake party.
Or in town. Or really, any time I did have reception.
“You’ll be seeing him soon enough,” my mom reassures me. “In the meanwhile, I’ll be interested to hear what you come up with for this jubilee event.”
I feel myself brighten. “You’ll be proud to hear I’ve learned some tips from Erin. We just realized that the inn has been owned by Gabriel’s family for fifty years.”
“That’s something to work with,” Mom says.
“I know. I just need to think about how to recognize fifty years.”
She pauses on the other side of the phone. “How about something to do with fifty states? With the Fourth of July as a theme, what better way to celebrate the country?”
“Mom, that’s brilliant.”
She laughs. “Now if only me and my staff can figure out our Independence Day messaging. I want to highlight something important about our economic priorities.” She pauses and I can tell she’s slipping into her thoughts.
“Mom, you’re doing an excellent job,” I say.
She pauses. “As a mother?”
I laugh. “Yes, as mom in chief and president.”
She chuckles, and I wish I could hug her through the phone. I wish we had more moments like this. Most conversations lately have been quick texts, nothing more.
She praises me and my sister before signing off. “Wish I didn’t have to go, honey. I can’t wait to see you at the Independence Day Gala.”
We hang up and for the first time, I feel truly torn—between my life in DC with Oliver and this unexpected new world in Mystic Hollow, and a certain boy who’s leading the charge for Operation Bucket List and maybe even my heart.