Chapter Ten #2
“Wait, really?” I said, feeling just as startled as Mom, from the look of it.
“That’s impressive,” Mom added.
Alex shrugged, and I couldn’t tell if her modesty was sincere or feigned. “Started in person, took a break, finished online.”
“Well, what do you do for a living?” Mom continued.
“I make my money from investment properties,” Alex said.
“And running a gym,” I interjected. “Or is that just a hobby?”
“It’s hobby income, though I run the business side of things too. Chiara does most of the teaching.”
Mom leaned against the counter. “I gotta say, as a mom, I like your credentials. I assume that’s your fancy car in my spot?”
When Alex affirmed, Mom met my gaze, looking rather impressed. “She has a house too,” I added, to which Mom responded by looking Alex up and down.
“Alex, I could swear I’ve seen you before, or maybe I know your family. What’s your last name?”
I had thought it would be a point of pride. I didn’t expect Alex to suddenly fake her smile. “Winthrop.”
Nothing changed on Mom’s countenance. “Sounds familiar. It’ll come to me. Is your family from here?”
“Yeah.” Alex looked very focused on reading the ingredients on the box of pasta noodles. “I grew up in Paradise Valley. I moved to New York when I was about ten for my mother’s career, but we would always come back during the winter.”
“Ah, a proper snowbird….” Mom’s brow furrowed. “Winthrop,” she said, as though tasting a new food. “Is you mother a senator?”
Alex didn’t look up. “Yes.”
Mom did a terrible job at hiding her appall. “Oh! Well, that’s great!”
This had suddenly turned sideways. Mom was lying. Why was Mom lying?
“I-I’ve definitely heard of your mother,” Mom continued, suddenly very interested in the remaining groceries on the counter. “You, uh, planning to stay for dinner?”
“No,” Alex replied, quickly. Too quickly. “No, I wasn’t planning to impose.”
“That’s just fine.” Mom kept her fake smile. My stomach twisted. “I’ll get started on dinner. Terra, I assume you’ll be walking her out?”
Mom was…panicking? I nodded, confused. “Sure.”
I took Alex’s hand and led her out of the kitchen and to the small living room, where the front door waited. “Do you know my mom?” I whispered.
“No,” she replied, though her gaze remained toward the kitchen. “But she probably knows of me.”
What was this hesitation? This pain? Something had transpired, and I placed my hand on her cheek, coaxing her to meet my gaze. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing.” Her countenance softened—that, or it was defeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Call me, though, i-if you need anything.”
“Okay—”
She interrupted my words with a soft kiss.
She left. My stomach felt suddenly ill.
I returned to the kitchen, where Mom stood tense and waiting. “Where in the world did you run into Alexandria Winthrop?”
“She’s a regular at work. Mom, what’s going on?”
Mom shook her head. “You’re an adult. You can see who you want to see.”
The tension surmounted as Mom began busying herself with ingredients, trembling as she forced open a bottle of pasta sauce.
Heat burned behind my cheeks. Whether it was rage or tears was a mystery even to me. “What are you talking about?”
Mom sniffed; I realized she was trying not to cry. “Baby, you can see who you want to see, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t scare me, as your mother. Please tell me you’ve at least Google’d her.”
I held her eye as I pulled out my phone, shaking as I typed the name Alexandria Winthrop, only for it to auto-fill.
Alexandria Winthrop rehab
Alexandria Winthrop DUI
Alexandria Winthrop billionaire
Alexandria Winthrop sexual harassment
Numb, when I completed the search for just her name, I realized the most recent article was from last night.
Blonde Bombshell or Girl Next Door? Who is the mystery woman spotted with Alexandria Winthrop?
God, it was surreal, staring at my own photo, though I faced away from the camera. Alex was clearly visible though, holding the door open for me.
Alexandria Winthrop made a rare public appearance with a mystery suitor, appearing to be laughing and smiling as they entered the establishment.
Ms. Winthrop has been reclusive in recent years, but is this the turning of a new leaf?
Is this the woman who will tame the infamous socialite, or will she return to her old ways?
Old ways?
I went back to the search bar, this time clicking on one of the auto-fills. Alexandria Winthrop sexual harassment.
The opening headline read: Sexual Harassment Lawsuit Dropped. Alexandria Winthrop Walks Away With a Slap On the Wrist and a Restraining Order
But there were so many more. Too many to absorb.
Winthrop Sisters Arrested for Drug Possession
Heiress Overdoses a Second Time
Alexandria Winthrop Pictured Leaving Rehab—EARLY
Local Heiress Involved in Near-Fatal DUI
I felt nothing at all.
I took note of the dates. Not one was more recent than two years. Image searches revealed Alex’s mug shots and being photographed on the street. No tattoos. No scars.
Did I truly know nothing of Alex? I hadn’t known she’d finished college, much less Cornell. And I hadn’t known she’d nearly killed someone behind the wheel, driving drunk and high.
“Terra….”
I looked up at Mom, only then realizing I was crying. My lip trembled as Mom’s arms come around me.
She stayed there as I clicked each condemning article, felt her eyes scan the text with me. It all made too much sense.
I still couldn’t feel it.
“She’s different now, Mom,” I managed to whisper, my voice hoarse from tears. She had to be. I’d seen it. I’d felt it. I knew it.
“Maybe she is.” Mom squeezed my arms, then released me. “But I just don’t know, so it scares me.”
“But I know!” I said, though regret filled me at the outburst. “She’s clean.
She’s been clean for two years. And she’s been coming into my shop every morning at 8 AM for almost as long, so I do know her.
And you don’t know this, but she even protected me when Cli—some creep came in and started harassing me.
She’s so kind to me, Mom. Whatever this is”—I scrolled down on the search results, anguish filling me—“it isn’t who she is anymore. I know. I just do.”
Mom paused, her red-rimmed eyes filled with unshed tears. “I hope you’re right. Just…after everything with El, it scares me so bad.” Her voice broke with the name.
“After El, everything scares me,” I admitted, fighting my own choking tears. “Alex is the first thing that’s made me want to be brave.”
Mom nodded, saying nothing as she returned to the stove, stirring the noodles just a little too furiously.
I kept on scrolling, drawn to disaster like a moth to a bug zapper.
Dinner was awkward, cut short when I discovered a Youtube playlist detailing every scandal Alexandria Winthrop had been in since she’d was 16 and pulled over for her first DUI.
I escaped to my room with an apology, guilt at ruining dinner paling to this obsessive need to know, to understand the truth.
Even the more-or-less benign headlines felt so exploitative, like I’d stumbled upon a diary I wasn’t meant to read.