Chapter 15
MICHELLE: THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK
I trailed behind my father into the study where my mother and Melanie were waiting. Melanie’s eyes widened at the sight of my tangled hair and rumpled clothes. If my sister had come for a show, she wouldn’t be disappointed.
My mother let out a single, cold puff. “Honestly, Michelle. Have you no shame?”
I purposely ignored the taunt. She wanted me to bow my head. Instead, I lifted it and met her. “I’m almost twenty. What I do in my free time isn’t your concern.”
For a heartbeat, I saw the faintest crack in her perfect facade. Then she recalibrated, and her polished civility was back.
“I beg to differ.” She turned to my father. “Do you know who he is?”
“Not yet. But I’ll find out.”
“No, you won’t,” I said, panic rising at the thought. “He has nothing to do with this.”
“If he’s what’s keeping my daughter from making sound decisions, then he has everything to do with this,” my father replied.
“I’m making my own decisions. Me. I know you both hate that, but it’s true.”
“And look where it’s gotten you,” my father said. “Parading around with that sort. Men like him don’t build futures, Michelle, they drain them.”
“Where did you meet this”—Mother’s lips puckered—“this grifter? Certainly not at the country club, where you’ve claimed to be all summer. Unless he parked your car and called you pretty.”
The assumption that I’d been dazzled by flattery was laughable, but I bit my tongue because this conversation had veered into the danger zone. They were circling Scott, closing in. They could make calls—pull strings—and turn a hard-working man into an unhirable one. I couldn’t let them.
“He’s not a grifter,” I said. “He’s a musician. And he didn’t park my car. I met him at a gas station.”
“A gas station?” she practically spat the words. “Oh, how wonderful. Did you hear that, Bill? She met him at a gas station. I always dreamed our daughter would find her Prince Charming between the Slim Jims and the roller dogs.”
Melanie choked back a laugh. She couldn’t be enjoying this more if she had a bowl of popcorn in her lap. My jaw tightened. This wasn’t entertainment. This was Scott’s life—about to be ruined.
“You’re right, Mother,” I snapped. “How mortifying for you. For my next date, I’ll consult Melanie’s little black book of starving, unemployed artists.”
“Hey,” Melanie protested. “Leave my riffraff out of this.”
“I want his name, Michelle,” my father demanded.
“No.” I crossed my arms and dug in.
“Then I’ll get it another way.”
“What’s wrong with you people? Listen to yourselves. We’re not the Gambino family.”
I was met with stone faces. Maybe we were.
“Fine, I won’t see him again. Is that what you want? Leave him out of this. I asked him to show me what local life was like. He did. That’s all.”
Mother’s mouth twisted. “So kind and honorable of him. Certainly it had nothing to do with the payday that comes with blackmailing a Carver.”
“Not everyone cares about our last name or our money, Mother.”
“Oh, Michelle, you appear so intelligent at times,” she said, before sliding in for the kill. “Yet you really are as dumb as a rock, aren’t you?”
I winced. She always had a knack for gut-punching with words alone. “Is it so hard for you to imagine someone liking me for me? You might not think I’m smart or interesting or pretty, but he does.”
Mother pressed a hand to her temple like my words were a nuisance, not a truth.
“I’ve always thought you were a beautiful child.
You lack discipline. But no worries. We’ll correct that.
You’ll be heading back to New York tomorrow.
Randall has already booked your ticket. And Melanie, you’ll be traveling with her.
The two of you need a course correction.
It was a mistake to bring you to California for the summer. Too many pretty distractions.”
“Sorry, no can do,” Melanie said. “I’m going to a movie premiere next week.”
“Not anymore you’re not.”
“Well, if Melanie stays, so do I.”
“Stop!” Mother slapped her hands down on the table. “Both of you!”
We snapped to attention. It wasn’t often she lost control, but when she did, we proceeded with caution. She took a moment to compose herself before continuing in her ice-cold tone.
“You are both adults and are free to make your own decisions, even if that means carrying on with your dead-ends.”
My sister and I exchanged glances. Had we… won?
“However—”
My heart sank.
“If you two are not on that plane tomorrow, then your father and I will assume you have chosen a no-frills lifestyle, which you will enjoy on your own dime. You see, we will not support such foolishness.” Mother’s eyes flicked between us.
“Do you both understand what being cut off from your blood supply entails?”
Melanie slouched back, defiant. I sat frozen, bracing.
“It means,” she continued, “no more credit cards. No more shopping trips to Rodeo Drive or Bloomingdale’s. No more five-star vacations and summers lounging on the beach.”
She leaned forward and dropped her voice to an almost gleeful whisper.
“Gone. All of it. You’ll be scrabbling around for gas money and splitting cheeseburgers at McDonald’s.
Forget manicures, forget new dresses, forget concerts or trips to the theater.
Your whole life will shrink to whatever crumbs your penniless dream men can scatter at your feet. ”
“You wouldn’t,” Melanie dared.
Our mother smiled like an assassin. “Watch me.”
The room fell silent. I looked to my father for some sort of reassurance.
But he refused to meet my eye, deferring to Mother on this one.
A united front; the most dangerous kind.
Whether they would follow through with the threat was another matter.
Were they really willing to lose both their daughters?
Likewise, was I willing to lose my family?
I fought back the tears. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
In the real world, you met someone you liked, you got married, and your families blended their worlds.
But Mother was making it clear that it would never happen.
“So that’s it?” I said, my voice shaky but edged. “You get to decide my future? Ship me across the country and think I’ll just forget him?”
“I don’t care if you forget him, Michelle.
I care that you never see him again. You might think shacking up with your beach bum is romantic, but I assure you, once you have lived on their side of the tracks, there will be no coming back.
No invitations, no society events, no family friends eager to help.
You will be yesterday’s scandal. Forgotten and discarded. ”
It was then I understood what she was really taking from me—not money or things, but the undo button. Every mistake I’d ever made had come with one, but this wouldn’t, and if I chose wrong now, there would be no rewind or soft landing waiting for me if it all fell apart.
That realization terrified me. I bowed my head and said nothing.
“Excellent.” She smoothed her skirt. “Michelle, clean that filth off you. You ladies have two hours to make yourselves presentable. We’re all expected at the yacht club for brunch and the regatta.
Tomorrow you will be on that plane. If not, you’ll discover very quickly how useless charm is when bills come due. ”
Melanie and I were dismissed with little more than the wave of her hand.
Neither of us spoke as we made our way up the stairs.
We’d been threatened with disownment before, as it was in Chapter One of the Rich Parent Handbook.
But it had never been laid out with such finality.
This wasn’t just a threat; it was a promise.
And I wasn’t so sure, no matter how I felt about Scott, if I could survive a life without the cushion.
Trust me, I knew how shallow that made me sound.
Only when we were clear of earshot did Melanie grab my arm and steer me out onto the balcony, away from spying ears. Her nails dug in.
“Thanks a lot. Way to ruin my life.”
“You’re as guilty as I am,” I fired back. “Maybe even more. I’ve had one guy. You can’t count yours on one hand.”
“Are you calling me a tramp?” Melanie hissed, her rapidly deteriorating expression warning me to tread lightly.
“I’m saying we’re equally to blame.”
“No, Michelle.” Her whisper was pure venom. “It’s not even close. I was being discreet, sneaking my boy in the back door of society events. You were traipsing through the slums with your loser.”
“He’s not a loser.” My voice was flat and deadly calm.
It was then I saw in Melanie my mother’s image.
She had the same cool judgment, the same habit of marking people as beneath her.
And honestly, that had probably been me too six weeks ago.
“You don’t know anything about him. He has more integrity than any guy in our social circle. ”
“Whatever you say, Michelle. Maybe next time don’t be skinny-dipping—and everything else—with the dude in full view of the neighbor.”
My head whipped around. “Who told you that?”
“The neighbor. My god, Michelle. Are you that clueless? He saw it all. Didn’t report it last night because he was probably beating off to the two of you, but when he spotted you asleep on the deck this morning? That’s when he got Daddy involved. And now I’m going to be punished for your stupidity.”
“You’re the one who told me to run.”
Her eyes popped wide open. “From Prince!” her voice peaked. “Not into the arms of some working-class bum.”
“You sound just like Mother.”
Melanie’s eyes narrowed. “Take that back!”
“I won’t! You’re judging Scott before you’ve even met him.”