“Then what’d I say?”
“You want more money.”
“I don’twantmore money. Oshram needs additional support to bring the light of his teachings to the people.”
“So maybe Oshram should stop smoking dope and get a job?” she mumbled, erasing a half note and replacing it with two higher-pitched quarter notes.
“Don’t be disrespectful. I didn’t raise you to be self-serving. All we have, and all we are, is at the blessing of the creator.”
With a frustrated sigh, Summer shook her head and tossed her notebook aside. Her mother’s belief in a money-sucking cult leader aside, the woman hadn’t raised her at all. Not an argument she wanted to get into tonight, but a fact nonetheless. “How much do you want, Melanie?”
Want.Not need.
She knew the difference, and she wanted her mother to know she hadn’t been fooled.
“An extra two-fifty a month ought to do it.”
“I’m not giving you an extra two hundred and fifty dollars a month!” Mouth hanging open in disbelief, she looked at her phone on the bedside table, half expecting to see Melanie’s hand reaching through the speaker. Her empty palm waiting to be filled with money she hadn’t earned and didn’t deserve.
The woman had an uncanny ability to sniff out cash, and anytime she suspected her only child had some, she came after it with a vengeance. Well, not this time. After years of struggling, worrying, and accepting low-paying employment opportunities, Summer finally had some financial stability.
She liked seeing her account balance grow, and she intended to keep what she earned. “We agreed to four hundred a month. I can’t afford more than that.” True when she’d worked for the Wagners.
Not so true now. But her mother didn’t need to know.
“Marla Wagner can afford it.”
“I already told you. I don’t work for the Wagners anymore.”
“Yes, but she called here looking for you.”
“What? Why?” Summer had listed her mother as an emergency contact on the Reliable Nannies employment forms. A mistake in hindsight, and the only way anyone could track her down since Jay had given her a secure phone with an unlisted number.
Members of the JTT aside, nobody had her new contact information.
Heck, she hadn’t even told her mother where she worked now or for who. Her choice. She wanted to keep her personal information private. Wanted to set decent boundaries around her relationship with Melanie.
“Listen,” Melanie said in the tone she used when trying to manipulate a conversation. “This Marla lady sounds desperate to have you back. If you call her, I’m sure you can work something out, even negotiate for a higher salary.”
And bam—finally—the real reason her mother thought she could get more money out of Summer. “I’m not interested in working for the Wagners.” A truer statement had never been made. Yes, she still missed Duff and Penelope, but Mr. and Mrs. Wagner? No. Wild horses couldn’t drag her back to the Silver Buckle Ranch.
Not now. Not when she knew what it was like to work for decent people. People she respected. People who valued her as a person as much as they did her contribution. She had zero confusion with respect to where her loyalties lay.
“Summer, be reasonable. You can make a lot more money if you work for the governor. Call Marla and see what she has to say. That’s all I’m suggesting.”
“You asked her for money, didn’t you?”
“I didn’task, but she’s willing to give me a few dollars if I help convince you to return.”
“How much?”
“Nothing significant.”
“How much?” she demanded again, refusing to be put off by Melanie’s evasion of the question.
“Does it even matter?”
Once again willing to sell her daughter off to the highest bidder, of course it mattered. Moneyalwaysmattered where her mother was concerned. More money meant more freedom to flit around Oshram’s ankles while he spread the word and shared his dope with young, rich, and highly susceptible college students looking for the meaning of life in a world of ash and broken dreams.
