Chapter Seven Brewing a Plan
Mom picks me up from CROP but doesn’t say anything on the way home.
Which is fine with me, because I wasn’t going to talk to her anyway.
I spend the afternoon in my room, editing the pictures I took on my last few days in Toronto and uploading them to my photography blog.
I only have about a hundred followers—mostly other architecture or photography nerds in the city.
I’ve had some of my pictures licensed for media, and it’s supercool to open a bigger Toronto website and see a photograph I took.
But these new pictures feel kind of sad now.
There are my normal shots of buildings and the skyline that my blog is known for, but also a picture of the streetcar outside my favorite banh mi shop, a busker at a subway station, and the long winding line outside my favorite homemade ice cream place.
Summer is my favorite season in Toronto, and I hate that I’m missing it.
Mom cooks dinner again, this time chicken-and-pesto pasta with a salad. Is she going to cook a fresh dinner every night? That really wasn’t her style when I was growing up. But I guess everything is new after this marriage.
“So, what were you ladies up to this afternoon?” Jason asks while I’m helping myself to salad. It’s Mom’s cranberry, kale, and apple. Another favorite of mine.
“I was working on my photography blog,” I say.
“Oh, that’s great!” he says. “I love your blog. Your mother showed it to me.”
I shrug.
“Are you going to add some pictures of Cherrybridge, now that you’re here?”
I shake my head slowly. “Um, no… It’s a blog about Toronto?”
I half expect Mom to pipe in saying that since I’m here, I should change the blog focus, but she’s still quietly eating.
“Well, I think Cherrybridge is quite photogenic,” Jason says, plowing ahead. “The downtown was recently revitalized. All those hanging baskets and planters on the boulevards were put in this spring. And there are some great restaurants and boutiques downtown too.”
I think of Noah’s comment that Cherrybridge hides the real in favor of the fake. “Are there any thrift stores or vintage stores here?” I ask. “I could use some shorts to wear to the park. It’s a lot of manual labor.”
Mom finally speaks. “If you need clothes, we can go to the mall. You don’t need to use your own money for clothes anymore.”
I screw up my face. Pause. The rule ever since I started working was that she’d buy me necessities in September, and if I needed anything else after that, I had to buy it myself.
But that was before she married a multimillionaire, I guess.
“I have money, Mom.”
“Save it for university.” She’s smiling at me as if I’m not looking at her like she’s grown another head. “Since you had to quit your job, Jason has offered to give you an allowance while you’re here. You’ll need spending money.”
I’m quiet for a beat before mumbling a thanks to Jason. I’m not sure how I feel about Mom’s rich husband giving me money.
“Speaking of clothes shopping,” Mom says, glancing at Jason briefly. “We’re going to need to get you some new things for a few formal events. Tell her, Jason.”
Jason gives me that Cherrybridge smile—fake.
“I hope you can keep this news confidential, as we don’t want it to leak until we’re ready, but I’ll be running for mayor of Cherrybridge in the fall.
” He pauses, as if waiting for me to say something.
I, of course, already knew this, so I’m easily able to maintain my flat expression.
Jason coughs. “The election is in November. I know you’re new in this family, but I hope that you will join your mother in supporting my campaign. ”
I raise a brow. “Supporting how?” He doesn’t expect me to go door-to-door, does he?
“Just attend some events with us this summer,” Mom cuts in. “That’s why you’ll need some new clothes. Besides, when’s the last time you had a new dress?”
“Attend events,” I deadpan. “Is that all you want from me?”
“Yes.”
She’s lying.
Mom grits her teeth like she’s trying so hard not to snap at me. “And stay out of trouble this summer, which you’ve already promised to do.”
“When are the events?” I ask, pretending that all my attention is on my salad. There has got to be a way to get out of going to them. I didn’t sign up for being the stepdaughter of a politician.
“I’m hosting a fundraiser at the club this weekend, where I’ll officially announce my candidacy,” Jason says. “After that there will be a handful of other appearances we would love you to be at.”
“Okay, but you know I’m only here this summer, right? I’m going back to Toronto in September.”
Mom and Jason exchange another wordless look with each other. I’m getting real tired real fast about the way they keep communicating around me.
“Yes,” Jason says slowly, “but if you’d like to stay here in Cherrybridge, you would be welcome.”
I quickly shake my head. “I can’t. I have to apply to the BEAD program.”
“You can do the architecture mentorship program from here,” Mom says. “Most of it’s online.”
I narrow my eyes at her. She knows how important this program is to me.
“Most, not all. I wouldn’t get to go to campus for the lectures or meet the professors or even talk to my mentor face-to-face.
I’ve been planning this for years, Mom. You can’t destroy my dreams like that.
Not to mention, I want to finish high school with my friends. ”
Mom sighs, dropping her cutlery to rub at her eyes. “No one is destroying anything. Let’s just get through the next few weeks before we make any final decisions.”
I continue to glare at her, Jason’s comment ringing in my ears about how it would be better for his campaign if I went to Randell Academy. There’s no way I’m going to that school. “Okay, but I’m going to be bored out of my mind at these events. I won’t know anyone.”
“You’ll know Sadie,” Jason says. “My brother and his family are supporting me. And if it would make you more comfortable, you can bring a friend along to all the events. Maybe one of your Toronto friends would like to see what a municipal politics campaign looks like?”
Actually, Adanna would probably love it. But I don’t say that.
There’s a bit of an awkward silence, as Mom and Jason are clearly waiting for me to enthusiastically agree to all of this.
Or heck, maybe even nonenthusiastically agree.
But I don’t say anything. It feels strange.
I’m not used to clashing with Mom like this.
But then again, I’m not used to her trying to be an involved parent, either.
“How about we go to the mall after I pick you up from Gordon Park on Thursday?” Mom suggests. “We can get you dresses for the events and new shorts if you need them.”
“You didn’t used to have an issue with shopping at thrift stores,” I say flatly. “But I guess that was before you sold out.”
Mom drops her fork again. That was apparently the last straw for her. “Meera! I don’t understand what’s come over you! Have some respect and gratitude… You—”
“No,” Jason interrupts. “Neelam, it’s okay.
” He turns to me, and he looks genuinely compassionate.
I don’t know if it is genuine, though. “Meera, I know being here, and living with me, has been a huge adjustment for you. And now I’m springing this campaign on you.
I get it. I was a rebellious teen too, once upon a time.
If I was in your shoes, then I would be just as defiant.
But I do hope…” He pauses and sighs. “I hope by the end of the summer you’ll understand me a bit better.
Maybe even be happy that you’re here in Cherrybridge.
” Jason looks me right in the eye, and this look feels real. “Or be happy I’m your stepfather.”
I laugh at that. Not at the possibility of me being happy that Jason’s my stepfather, but more at the thought of straitlaced Jason being rebellious. Would a true rebel ever run for mayor? Talk about selling out.
They both stare at me for laughing, and I do feel a bit bad. I don’t fully know what’s come over me either. I blow out a puff of air, but I don’t explain and I don’t apologize. “Okay. I’ll go to your events. And we can go to the mall, too.”
That evening after dinner Sadie and her brothers walk over to use Jason’s pool.
They apparently do that a lot, since her brothers, who are twelve-year-old twins, love swimming but they don’t have a pool of their own.
I put on my own swimsuit when they get here and join Sadie on the lounge chairs, where she’s watching to make sure the twins don’t kill each other.
Sadie is wearing a pink-and-blue bikini.
All I have is the plain black one-piece that Mom bought me when we had our swimming unit in grade-nine gym.
Maybe I should get Mom to buy me a swimsuit at the mall too.
I mean, since we’re now flush with cash and Mom is so eager to spend it.
The pool area is quite minimalist, with a deep navy rectangular pool and a simple gray patio around it. There are white lounge chairs surrounding it, and the only decorative element is the waterfall on one end. I actually like the landscaping out here more than the interior of the house.
“Be happy you’re an only child, Meera,” Sadie says after yelling at the boys to stop running on the pool deck. “I remember the blissful years before those two demons were born.”
Evan, one of the twins, heard Sadie and blows her a kiss and says, “Love you, Big Sis!”
I laugh. I actually like the twins, Evan and Emmet, even though I feel sorry for them because of their matchy names.
The boys are fun. Like, they aren’t broody, or too snobby, and don’t even seem sexist, which I know a lot of twelve-year-old boys are.
I ended up talking to them for a while at the wedding.
They’re both huge music nerds and would love to go to concerts in the city, but their parents say they’re too young to travel into Toronto alone.
And apparently, adult LeClairs hate music, so the boys’ parents won’t take them.