Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Finch
“You look like something out of The Walking Dead ,” Mom said as she flopped her stack of manila folders down on the desk between us.
“Thanks,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes. “Is that what you scheduled a meeting during lunch to tell me? That I look awful?”
“Well, seeing as you are refusing to take your scheduled days off?—”
“I have better things to do than have you berate me.” I started to rise, but Mom held up her hands, her mouth tight, and I sat back down.
“That’s not why I’m here,” she said, “but don’t think we won’t be talking about that.”
I didn’t have a witty retort. I was grumpy and bitter and sad about what had happened between Frankie and me, and I couldn’t seem to juggle that with my usual carefree persona. “So this is an interrogation?”
“No,” Mom said evenly, but I knew she was pissed at me. She’d probably heard about everything that had happened with Frankie—or at least that we had broken up. The fact that I wasn’t currently eating lunch with the zoo chef was her biggest clue. “I called this meeting to tell you the good news. We’re starting a new vet program.”
I lifted my head out of my hand. “What?”
Mom slid a stapled packet across the desk to me. “We’re starting a new vet program,” she repeated as my eyes frantically scanned over the proposal that she’d already drafted and signed, making it official before even announcing it to me.
“You’ve sent these out already?”
Mom nodded, ignoring the way I glared at her. “Funding is secured. We’ve already had the green light that Tufts will be sharing this with their students. Three different programs will be contributing, and we’re looking into bursaries for top students.”
“Mom,” I groaned. She’d pitched this plan to me before and I’d immediately nixed the idea. But now it seemed she was willing to go ahead without my blessing—which she could of course do, being the CEO. I knew what this ambush announcement was though: a punishment.
“They’ll stay in the dorms in the off season, two new graduate vet students and two vet nurses for 3-month rotations, all acting under your supervision,” Mom continued, undeterred. “The best ones we will offer generous contracts to for another rotation over the summer months. It means valuable experience for many of them who are looking to get into wildlife medicine. As well as a potential letter of recommendation from one of the most preeminent zoo veterinarians in the country,” she added, trying to sweeten the deal, but my vanity was not so easily flattered at present.
She’d floated this idea to me many times before, but I liked running the hospital the way I wanted, and the idea of constantly training people up sounded exhausting, just another thing to add to my day, despite the fact Mom insisted it would mean more help and fewer work hours for me.
I was going to open my mouth to protest when Mom placed her elbows on the desk and leaned in—one of her classic power moves. “I don’t care if you don’t want to save yourself, Goldfinch,” she said, a bite of mama bear seeping into her business voice. “I will do it for you. I love you too much to see the thing you love break you.”
“It’s not breaking me?—”
Mom scoffed and whipped out her phone, flipping it around for me to stare at myself on her camera. I rolled my eyes, not wanting to look. The last thing I needed was an intervention from my mother.
“We have the zoo gala tomorrow,” Mom said, frustration mounting in her voice. “I expect you to show up looking more human than this. People will want to talk to you, and you look like you’re seeing double.”
“Nothing a shower and a well-tailored suit can’t hide,” I muttered.
“And your animals? Are they getting the best of you?”
I held a hand to my chest like I’d just been shot. Damn, that was rough, even if she was right. It seemed my mother was going to use every weapon in her toolbox to cut me open today.
“After your father died?—”
“And there it is.” I threw my hands up. “I knew you’d pull out the big guns eventually.”
“After he died,” Mom pressed on, “I kept myself so busy with work and raising all of you. It’s only now that I’m starting to lift my head up and think about all the things I missed, all the things I should’ve done sooner if I’d been braver.” I wasn’t expecting that. I peeked back up at her, confused as she kept going. “I’ve chosen to be busy and lonely for thirteen years.” That felt like a gut punch. Had it really been that long? I had never stopped to consider if my mom was lonely. I knew she missed my dad, but I never really thought about what it must be like to go so long without someone.
“I’m starting to regret burying myself in work,” Mom whispered. “I don’t want to see you do that too.”
“Maybe it’s too late for the both of us,” I said with a weary sigh.
“I don’t think so, but if it ends up that way, at least we’ll have each other to commiserate with.” Her eyes crinkled in a sad smile as she swept her hair back. “I probably pushed you too hard into this thing with Frankie, and I’m sorry for that.”
“You didn’t push me,” I murmured. “I pushed myself. And I can’t decide if I’m glad or angry that I did.”
“You’ve always acted like you didn’t have a heart so no one could break it, too busy being the fun life of the party, flippant, uncaring.” Mom shook her head. “But I know you. You probably have one of the biggest hearts of any of my children. You just bury it down so deep because you’re afraid what will happen if you let someone in like that.”
“Mom, please,” I choked out, my emotions spiraling out of control again. “Just stop.”
“Is it worth it?” Mom asked, giving my arm one last squeeze before rising to stand. “Is guarding your heart really worth it? Is feeling this way really any better than the fear of heartbreak?”
No. It wasn’t. The truth was, Frankie had snuck into my life without me realizing, right into my very soul, and now I was heartbroken before I even realized she had my heart to begin with. And maybe I was too spineless to ever rectify that.
Mom shrugged as if hearing my unspoken thoughts. “You’re braver than you know, Goldfinch. You’re my daughter after all,” she said a gentle laugh. “And whether you use that bravery right now or not, I love you regardless. But she’s right there.” Mom nodded out the window in the direction of the Peckish Peacock. “If you have the courage to go and get her.”