Three
Ari moved around the room in a frenzy, clothes tossed into the suitcase without care. She didn’t pause to fold or even consider. Whatever was closest went straight in, a mess of high-end fabric crammed together like the contents of a laundry hamper.
‘We definitely heading out today?’ Nancy’s voice was light, but Ari could hear the concern underneath it.
Ari glanced over her shoulder, unfazed, and grinned playfully. ‘Oh, stop fussing. On the hangover scale, this one’s barely a five.’ Another pair of shoes flew into the suitcase, tossed in with an exaggerated flourish.
Nancy bent to pick up a jacket that had fallen to the floor. ‘It might be worth packing a little more… strategically.’
Ari laughed, not taking her eyes off the suitcase. ‘Strategic packing? Yes, that sounds like something I’m going to start doing any minute now.’
Just then, Ari heard the front door open. There was only one person with a set of keys besides Ari and Nancy, so Ari knew who the uninvited guest was. Dread filled her heart.
The sharp click of her heels echoed across the floor as she casually pushed past Nancy and entered the bedroom. Ari’s mother was among them.
‘You’re taking the week off?’ she began. ‘A whole week?’
Ari didn’t look up, her hands still moving, though at a slightly slower pace.
‘I’m just taking annual leave,’ Ari muttered, the words coming out brittle, already drained by the coming confrontation. ‘People do that. It’s normal.’
Her mother exhaled sharply. ‘Not for you. Not when you’ve been given an opportunity most people would kill for. Do you think I pulled strings so you could waltz out whenever you feel like it?’
Ari’s fingers tightened around a jumper sleeve, her knuckles going white for a second. She swallowed and exhaled, trying to remain unaffected.
‘It’s leave,’ Ari said, her voice a little slower now, almost like she was trying to make her mother hear her. ‘I got permission.’
‘From your boss, who works for me and probably thought he had to. A week where I have to explain why my daughter, who I placed in this organisation, is too flighty to take her job seriously.’
Ari let out a short, humourless laugh. ‘I’m a glorified assistant, Mum. Let’s not pretend I’m holding up the foundations of the company.’
Her mother’s jaw tightened, the muscles in her face visible as she fought to contain her frustration. ‘You’re more than that.’
‘Am I?’ Ari muttered, finally looking her mother in the eye. ‘Because I spend most of my time scheduling meetings for men who don’t even look at me, writing reports no one reads, answering emails about things I couldn’t care less about.’
Her mother’s voice grew crisp. ‘It’s a stepping stone.’
Ari let out another breath, shaking her head. ‘A stepping stone to what? I don’t want your job. I would be shit at it, apart from anything else. God, you could have at least put me on the creative side.’
Her mother met her gaze. ‘Creative is a dead end. Corporate is better.’
‘Creative is a dead end? You run a fashion brand,’ Ari said, mildly appalled.
‘You think you’re above me,’ her mother said. ‘That’s the problem, Ari. But I work hard to make sure you have all this.’
‘I’m not above anyone. I just—’ She stopped, pressing a hand to her forehead like it could smooth out the tight knot of frustration pressing against her skull. ‘I just think I should do something else.’
Her mother sighed, not unkindly, but also not with sympathy. ‘Then do. No one’s stopping you from carving your own path. But if you want my help, you’ll get it. All of it.’
Ari didn’t respond to that. She couldn’t.
She could feel Nancy’s quiet presence in the room, though she didn’t turn to look at her. Nancy had seen this kind of scene too many times to count—the same push and pull, the same dance, Ari running away from what her mother demanded and Sandra Stark trying, in her unrelenting way, to mould her daughter into someone she couldn’t quite be.
Ari wondered if she’d ever find the strength to put a stop to it. But then what? She was useless. Her mother was right. She could leave any time and do her own thing. But she didn’t have her own thing. Unless you counted flirting and drinking.
‘Where is this wedding, anyway?’ her mother demanded, breaking the silence.
‘It’s in Scotland. It’s going to be a long journey,’ Ari answered, her voice flat.
‘You need a whole week for a Scottish wedding? How? It’s in this country.’
Ari smirked. ‘Don’t say that to a Scottish person, Mum. They’ll revolt again.’
Her mother didn’t respond, possibly not understanding that a joke had been made. If she had a sense of humour, Ari didn’t know where she kept it.
‘Whose wedding is worth all this?’ her mum asked.
Ari hesitated. ‘It’s Paris’s wedding,’ she replied, already bracing for the inevitable reaction.
Her mother didn’t immediately speak.
‘My ex-girlfriend,’ Ari added with a sigh.
‘I know that!’ her mother said quickly. ‘You burn through boys and girls at lightning speed, Ari. It took me a second.’
‘I was with Paris for two years,’ Ari reminded her, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice, but it slipped through anyway.
‘Then why on god’s green earth are you going to her wedding to someone else?’ her mother asked, baffled.
Ari didn’t want to answer that just yet. Not with her mother like this. She would answer later. For now, she just wanted her mother out of the room.
So, she lied. ‘I want her to know I’m happy for her.’
‘Who cares if she knows you’re happy for her? She’s an ex,’ her mother said dismissively.
‘That’s not how I think, Mother,’ Ari shot back, irritated.
Her mother’s lips curled, just slightly, a sneer that had become all too familiar. ‘Don’t drag your father into this. He was the one that left.’
‘There wasn’t anything to leave by that point,’ Ari muttered.
Her mother gave a tight sigh. ‘When you’re back, we are going to have a serious talk about responsibility.’
‘Oh, goody. My favourite,’ Ari said. Though she would welcome it. She couldn’t wait to get back and have a chat with her mother. By then, Ari might have some pretty interesting things to say.
But not now. She just needed this week.
‘Enjoy your little jolly,’ her mother sneered and turned, exiting just as grandly as she had arrived, leaving the room suddenly empty and eerily quiet.
Nancy was stood in the doorway, her presence still steady and silent.
‘I don’t know why I always let her get to me,’ Ari murmured, barely above a whisper, eyes focused on her hands twisting in her lap.
Nancy paused. ‘Parents aren’t very ignorable people.’
Ari understood the subtle restraint in Nancy’s words. She couldn’t say more than that, not given who paid her. But Ari appreciated it more than she could explain.
After a beat, Ari stood up, her movements slower, less hurried than before. She walked back to the suitcase, pausing as she looked down at the jumble of clothes. ‘I don’t have enough shoes.’
Nancy turned to leave, giving her space.
‘Thanks,’ Ari said quietly before she could completely disappear. The word felt smaller than she intended, but it was sincere, nonetheless.
Nancy turned back to her, and they locked eyes for a moment. When it had gone on slightly too long, Ari said, ‘Hey, why don’t you go and get a drink? I might be awhile.’
‘I could get the tyre pressure checked,’ Nancy said. ‘We still OK for a noon departure?’
Ari smiled. ‘Yeah. No problem.’
‘You sure?’ Nancy checked. ‘Because I can readjust my schedule if I have some warning.’
‘You worry too much. Noon will be fine,’ Ari assured her.