Colette, her mother, had known she would getstuck with her only living relative, money-grubbing Yvette. Havinglived just the two of them since her last grandparent had passedaway the year before Colette, there hadn’t been anyone else. It wasYvette or foster care. Sophie didn’t envy that her mother had beenforced to make such a tough decision for her young daughter.
Shrill laughter pierced through the line.More of her natural laugh than the other, it was somehow moregrating and ingenuine. “How silly of me. I was so afraid I’d missedsending your birthday present. Can you send me your address so Ican mail you a present?”
Very fishy. She’d never sent her a presentbefore, despite many fictitious tales of the extravagant giftsshe’d sent in the past that never seemed to pass post officemuster. Why would she start now? Buttering Sophie up wasn’t likelyto entice her to share her fortune. “I actually don’t know myaddress offhand, and it’s temporary anyway.”
“You are staying with Pippa’s family then?Foothills, right?” Uh-oh.
Sighing, sinking into the nearest chair,Sophie couldn’t find the energy to invent a decent story to buy hermore time. “For now.”
“I know you aren’t working yet, but if youhave anything set aside from the allowance your dear mother left tosupport us, her only remaining family… I have an audition coming upfor a Netflix pilot. My landlord is breathing down my neck forrent, but I won’t have it for another few weeks.” Sophie was almostsurprised Yvette didn’t get more roles. She was an awfully talentedactress when it came to asking for money.
Dreaming of refusing, as she so desperatelywanted to, she feared the repercussions if she did. Now and again,she actually pulled off a decent rejection. Learning from her aunt,she would spin a tall tale that at least bought her some time.However, she’d learned that it never worked out in her favor, asdelays led to devious repercussions.
Unintelligible, deafening sobs lanced throughthe phone, jarring the thin membrane of Sophie’s eardrum. “Mylandlord. He’ll evict me if I don’t come up with the funds, or elsehe’ll… I don’t even want to say it.”
And Sophie didn’t want her to say iteither.
“He’s threatened to get his money’s worth,‘one way or another.’ Oh Sophie, I’m so scared.”
Oh boy. This was even better than last time.Yvette wasn’t stupid. She didn’t ask every month, only when Sophiehad had just enough time to recover from the berating herself forsending money the last time.
Time to end it. End the manipulation. Breakoff all ties. Her knuckles paled to a ghostly white as she clutchedthe phone, desperately trying to find the courage to stand up forherself. Chewed to the nub, her poor fingertips of her non-phonehand were raw.
“Your dear mother, my sister, was such agenerous soul, Sophie. You’re just like her. Generous, kind. Alwaystaking pity on your dear Auntie Yvette. If you sent enough for rentand a minor procedure, like Botox, I’ll nail the pilot and will beable to start sending you money. Just like I always wanted.” Sophiemay not be allowed to call her Aunt, but Yvette sure liked addingit when it benefited her.
Last time she’d landed a decent part, aminor, but recurrent, role as a hooker on an HBO drama, she hadn’tasked for money for a year. A Netflix series would set her upnicely, leaving Sophie undisturbed when her birthday came around.“Fine. I’ll send it to your PayPal account.”
Yvette’s bubbling gratitude chafed againsther ear. “You’re such a dear. With that pretty face, maybe I couldget you a part as an extra on the show? As my cousin?”
Clamping her jaw shut, she refused the offerand ended the call before she exploded. Dammit. Why couldn’t shejust refuse? It was never going to end. Even if Yvette got therole, it would always be one more thing.
Why couldn’t she just leave her alone? Thiswas how Sophie realized she had a knack for accounting. At the ripeage of fifteen, she discovered that she wouldn’t eat dinner unlesssomeone other than Yvette managed the bills. At that, food wasstill often scarce and minimally nutritive as Yvette was usually“dieting” for her next role.
When she found she actually enjoyed makingsense of finances, she decided she wanted to help others with herskills. By the time she was sixteen, she had them on a very strictbudget and did all the shopping, paid all the bills. It had onlytaken threatening Yvette that she would call CPS for her to agreeto the negotiated budget.
“Everything okay?”
Sophie spun around in a fury at the soundbefore she remembered she was in a safe place. Telephonedisconnected. Denise stood a few feet away, eyes heavy withconcern.
“Yeah. Sort of. It’s my aunt asking formoney. Again.”
Denise reminded her so much of her mother.Not in appearance. Denise was soft as a pillow and always availablefor a hug. Her own mother had been slender like she was, a championtriathlete herself, but was equally available for a hug.
“Sophie, dear. I’m so sorry. That woman is areal piece of work. Gave me the creeps on the HBO show.” She added,although Sophie already knew it wasn’t a Denise sort of show, “Ichecked it out after you mentioned it to me.”
Mischief brewing in her honey eyes, Denisemeant it. With her got-your-back attitude, topped with salt andpepper hair slicked back in a fiercely tight braid, Denise was aforce to be reckoned with. A lot like Colette had been.
Not uptight or high-strung like Pippa. No,Pippa was her father through and through. My way or no way. Denisehad the finesse to make others do what she wanted and be glad theydid.
Why couldn’t Sophie emulate either approach?Open a can of metaphorical whoop-ass on her aunt. Or somehowconvince her she didn’twantSophie’s money?
“I say no as often as I can, but she justkeeps calling. Manipulates me with a sob story or a thinly veiledthreat that she won’t hesitate to act on.” She managed to hold backtears, but barely. Moments like this made her miss her mother morethan anything.
With a fighting sneer, Denise put on herangry eyes. “Next time, you hand the phone to me. I’d love to tellher a thing or two.”
And that’s where Asher got it. Thetake-no-prisoners, strike-first-and-ask-questions-later that he wasknown for. They even shared the warm, whiskey glow to theireyes.
Letting Denise pull her into a hug, her limbswent limp, and she sunk into the older woman’s arms. “Thanks. Foreverything. You make me miss my mom. In a good way,” sheamended.