Judith paused to look at her, and Isabella recognized the “pay attention because this is important” look her mother was wearing.
“So, you see, it is not snobbery that makes me want to ensure you marry the right sort of person, it is simply having grown up in a harsher world than you did. I have seen the good that successful people can achieve and the bad that people who are less…industrious have to live with.”
“That sounds absolutely fascist,” Isabella spat out. Her tone of voice upset Alberto, and he mewled a little in her arms. She held him tighter, hushed him, and kissed his forehead. She looked back at her mother. “Daddy didn’t choose to marry you because you were ‘industrious.’ Or likely to make a lot of money. Or somehow uphold the family name. He married you because he fell in love with you. Though I can’t see why. I’m assuming he was dazzled by your confidence. Or perhaps he hit his head. Either way, he didn’t sit down and pick your name out of some goddamned breeder’s catalogue. He fell in love. Like I have.”
“Calm down, Isabella. I am not saying that you cannot fall in love. I am just trying to ensure that you don’t fall for some useless hippie again, or as the case seems to be now, some pretty little gold digger.”
“Erin is not a gold digger,” Isabella said through clenched teeth.
Judith held up her hands. “Fine. Then you will have no qualms in letting me meet her and make up my own mind about that. Nor about apologizing.”
Seriously? Isabella stared at her and her haughty look of satisfaction. She wondered if Judith could hear herself and had any clue how absurd she sounded. “Me? Apologize to you? What for?”
“For keeping this woman secret from me, and for not telling me that you were…not heterosexual. How am I supposed to help you with the mess you make of your life and guide you if you do not share all the facts with me?”
“I never asked you to guide me! Firstly, I just found out that I’m attracted to women myself. Secondly, when it comes to Erin, I would’ve told you about her and I would’ve let you meet her. But now…” Isabella shook her head before continuing. “Erin’s a precious, sweet soul. I don’t want your callousness and twisted worldview anywhere near her. Nor me and Alberto, come to think of it.”
This time, Judith’s composed veneer cracked. She stood up so fast she knocked over the chair she had been sitting on. Her face set itself into deep rage as she venomously spat out her words. “Excuse me? I am your mother. And in the absence of your father properly running this family, I am the head of the Martinez clan. I will not have you speaking to me like that.”
“Fine. I won’t. I won’t speak to you at all. Get out.”
“You can’t throw me out. I will not let you shut me out of your life again. If you do, not only will I make sure Alberto doesn’t make the mistake of seeing you. I’ll disown you. You’ll be forcing my hand, Isabella.”
Isabella gave a mirthless laugh; it rang hollow and angry in the small apartment. “Disown me? What century are you living in, Mother? Get out of my home. Now!”
Judith opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again with a snap. Her face contorted in disgust. She turned on her heel and marched out of the apartment.
Unsuccessfully, Isabella tried to take deep breaths to calm her raging fury. Flashes of white light swarmed in her vision. If she hadn’t had Alberto in her arms, she would’ve been screaming and throwing things.
Instead, she leaned her hot face against his head and breathed in his sweet scent to calm herself down.
Her mother had made her feel trapped, frightened, furious, and worthless too many times. Without even realizing it, Isabella had just let her do it. Because she was her mother. Because everyone said she did it out of love. Because sometimes Isabella just wanted not to have to fight for herself all the time.
She could do that again now. She could let her mother keep pushing her around to keep the peace, to keep her parents in her life. And maybe someday, her mother would come around and behave like a normal human being. Was it such a bad thing to wish for that? Was it such a bad thing to wish her mother could love her, just the way she was?
Perhaps I should just let her meet Erin and make the decision she undoubtedly will—that Erin isn’t appropriate. Then she can shout herself tired and leave.
Would that be the end of the world? She could spend her time rolling her eyes while her mother mistreated her and Erin. It’s not like they’d have to meet that often.
Then she could keep both Erin and her father without a war with her mother.
Little cogs clicked into place in her mind, changing her perspective. There would be no war. No, instead she’d fight hundreds of battles every time she spoke to her mother. Or when Erin and her mother were in the same room.
No. She’d spent her life putting up with her mother, obeying her, making excuses for her. Feeling ashamed of her and for her. Pitying a woman so broken she had to break everyone around her. She wouldn’t subject Erin to that, no matter what the cost. Erin was too sweet and pure a soul to withstand that kind of torment. She had so many demons of her own, Isabella wouldn’t force her into the arena with hers too.
Someone had to teach Judith Martinez that she couldn’t control everything. And who better to do it than the person she wanted to control the most?
Resolve and rebellion took root in her stomach and spread their strong tendrils up into her chest, enclosing her heart in the warm glow of their protection. The doubts she’d felt about sending her father that letter had gone, crushed by the ever-growing desire to protect and nurture and love, to care for Erin and her son. But shockingly, she wanted to care for herself too.
Discovering Erin’s love for her had shown her that she was worthy of the purest kind of love, that unflinching, unrepentant, unapologetic love she’d never allowed herself to hope for, never believed she deserved. A lifetime of indoctrination and esteem-stealing degradation by her mother had all but convinced her that not only did it not exist, but she would never have found it even if it did.
I don’t have to believe that anymore. I don’t have to listen to her or worry about what she thinks. She doesn’t know what’s best for me. She doesn’t know what writing means to me or what Erin means to me. Or what I mean to her. To hell with her and her pathological need for control.
She blinked until her vision cleared, kissed Alberto’s head, then squared her shoulders. She walked over to the phone and dialed the number on the business card.
“Hello,” the man’s voice said.
Isabella cleared her throat to try to make her voice sound normal. Deep down she knew that she should’ve waited until she was calmer, but she couldn’t. She had to do something.
“Santiago? It’s Isabella Martinez.”
The line went silent for a moment. “Oh, hello, Isabella. I haven’t spoken to you in quite a while. Is everything all right with you and your father?”
Isabella tried to relax her tense frame. “Daddy’s fine. Although I wish you and the rest of your group of silver foxes would help him keep an eye on his eating habits.”
Santiago laughed. “No luck there. We’re all as bad as each other. You didn’t answer about how you were doing.”
She wasn’t in the mood to hide the truth. Isabella closed her eyes with a sigh. “No. That’s because I’m furious with my mother. I apologize for my frankness, but I’ve just been told by her that my life choices are all wrong, including my choice to pursue a writing career. However, my mother is an idiot. I’ve a finished manuscript that I have faith in, so, I’m going to be very bold here. I’m calling to ask if there is any chance that you would consider representing me?”
Santiago hummed. “I’m surprised to hear that. About your manuscript I mean, not about your mother. It’s been so long since I heard mention of you writing that I assumed you had given up your writing plans.”
“No, it’s just been a slow process due to all the
changes in my life lately. I want to learn to be a writer,” Isabella said, nervousness creeping into her tone.
“I see. And you’ve finished a manuscript?”
“Yes,” she said, this time with confidence. That was one thing she could be sure of. All those pages, all those words…they were hers, and the story they painted was completed.
“Great. Then read it as if you were your worst critic, imagine being your mother. That should do the trick. Revise your first draft. Then revise and edit your second draft. Polish it until it’s clean, sleek, and sharp. Maybe get someone else to read it and give their views. Then send it to me, and I’ll tell you if I’ll represent you or not.” He paused, seemingly for effect. “Now, Isabella, I don’t represent people because of who they are related to or what relationship they have to me. If your finished manuscript shows promise, I’ll help you start a career as a writer and happily prove your mother wrong. On one condition.”
Isabella swallowed. “Name it.”
“If your manuscript is good, and if I manage to sell it to a publisher for you, you’ll let me be there when you tell your mother you have a publishing deal.”
A smile parted her lips. “Deal. I’ll start the rewrites and send it to you when I can’t improve it anymore.”
“Good. Oh, and Isabella, just for the record, I’ve known your mother a lot longer than you have, and she’s frequently wrong. Well done on letting her disapproval drive you instead of stopping you.”
“Thank you,” Isabella said, surprised by the compliment.
They said their good-byes, and Isabella hung up. She still felt upset. Emotion gnawed at her, and she suspected her mother would always have this effect on her to some extent. But Santiago was right. She wouldn’t let Judith’s disapproval stop her. She couldn’t. She couldn’t let her win like that.
Instead, that voice in her head would galvanize her. It would drive her to achieve her dreams. She knew what she wanted. She wanted to write, to raise Alberto, to see that happiness is being honest with yourself. She wanted to do it all with Erin by her side.
Chapter 28
Travel, or the Lack Thereof
Erin was exhausted when she left the gym after a long workday, a hard workout, and a brisk shower, but, as always, she was in dire need of a talk with her girlfriend. She smiled at that. Her girlfriend.
She waited impatiently for Isabella to pick up.
“Hey, preciosa.”
“Hey, babe. Everything okay?”
Isabella sighed. “Well, no, not really. There’ve been some developments here.”
Erin furrowed her brow and stopped walking. “Developments? That doesn’t sound good.”
“Some of it is good, and some of it is…,” she huffed out a breath before continuing. “infuriating. And by ‘some of it,’ I mean my mother.”
“Ah. You’ve spoken to Judith again?”
“She showed up here and told me how disappointed she was in me. Then she explained that writing’s not for me and that the woman I…that you are most likely a gold digger. She demanded to see you and wants me to stop writing.”
That furrow grew deeper. No one had ever called her a gold digger before. “Okay. So, what did you say?”
“I threw her out. Then I called an agent I know and asked him to represent me. And I decided that I can’t wait to spend my life with you. And, no, not because I am rebelling against my mother’s control, but because having to defend and explain what I want made me realize just how much I want it.”
Erin laughed. “Whoa. Slow down there. First of all, congrats on the book and on contacting an agent. I don’t know anything about publishing books, but that sounds like a good start. Secondly, are you sure you should’ve thrown her out? I mean, she’s important to you. She’s also Alberto’s grandmother and the woman who could stand between you and your dad, if she wanted to.”
“Of course I worry about cutting her out of my life. Despite everything she’s done, I still love her. She’s a huge part of my life and should be a huge part of Alberto’s life. Yes, she can, and will, keep me from seeing Daddy. Less importantly, she can remove any financial support that she might’ve offered if I was ever in dire straits. Nevertheless, I can look after myself. Who knows, maybe Daddy will stand up to her one day, then I could keep him in our lives. When it comes to Mother being a part of our lives, she can certainly be let back in. Just as soon as she shows a shred of respect and faith in me,” Isabella said at great speed.
Erin frowned. What to say to that huge information dump? How was she supposed to feel about it, even? She was proud of Isabella for standing up for herself and for their relationship. And she was thrilled that Isabella was seriously pursuing her dream of being a writer.
But there was a ball of worry in the pit of her stomach. Would Isabella end up regretting cutting ties with her parents? Erin had never had a family. Not a real one. The plethora of foster families and social workers didn’t count. They’d never lasted for more than a few years anyway. They weren’t the deep ties of a parental bond. She had nothing to compare Isabella’s feelings toward her parents with, but it had always been her greatest wish to have a family. To belong. There had been many painful situations growing up that family would’ve helped with, had there been anyone there who had genuinely cared for her. That part of her hated the idea that Isabella would go through such pain because she wanted to be with Erin.
It’s not really the same. I was a kid and wanted to be with the people I missed. Isabella is a grown-up who just wants her mother to stop hurting her. Different circumstances, different needs. I can’t put myself in her shoes. I’ve just gotta trust she knows what she needs now.
“Okay,” she started quietly. “You’ve clearly thought this through. Good. Well, um, you know what you want to do and how best to do it. Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you?”
“Just talk to me. About anything. Hearing your voice helps.”
Relief at being able to help flooded Erin. “That I can do. I’ve gotta say this one thing, though. I just signed with Chris and his lawyer to start buying the gym. The lawyer thought it was a weird way of doing things but said that as long as we were both happy, everything else could be sorted out. I’m gonna start shadowing Chris to see how he runs the place.” She stopped, realized that she was digressing, and gathered her thoughts to get her point across. “What I’m getting at is what I asked you about the other night. Would your mom be okay about us being together if she knew I was buying a gym? Would it fix things between you if you told her that?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. You’d probably rise in her esteem, yes. But I don’t want her to accept you merely because of a job title. I want her to accept you because you are the partner I chose. Neither you nor I need to ‘fix this,’ she does. So no, I’m not giving her any more chances or information until she apologizes.”
“Okay. What about your dad?”
“I don’t know. I suppose we’ll see what Daddy does when he reads my letter.”
Erin started walking again. “Sure. I just wanted to float the idea.”
“Thank you. It was sweet of you to consider it. I’m glad you made it official with Chris and the lawyer. I have to admit that I’m being a bit selfish and worrying how your shadowing him will cut into our time together.”
Anxiously running her fingers through her wet hair, Erin grimaced. “Yeah, we need to talk about that. Most nights, I’ll be coming home later in the evening. I’m sorry, babe. It’s just for a little while, though. I’ll work on convincing my clients to transfer to other trainers connected to the gym. But until I get rid of all of them, I’ll pretty much be working two jobs.”
“I thought so. Don’t worry. It’ll be painful to get less time with you, but it’s an investment in our future. To be honest, after my fallout with Mother, the idea of moving to New York is even more appealing.”
&nb
sp; Erin smiled but then noticed a man on the sidewalk staring at her. She resisted the urge to tell him to stop and focused on Isabella instead.
“I’m still sorry. And I’m also sorry you’ve had to go through all of this with your mom. I don’t know what her major malfunction is.”
She heard Isabella sigh. “Basically, she has a lot of issues from her own childhood. But, unlike you, she hasn’t identified them as a problem and decided to do something about them. She just makes her life, and everyone else’s, a misery. It’s sad, really.”
Not sure of what to say, Erin just hummed sympathetically.
“Speaking of therapy,” Isabella added as an afterthought, “did you book that appointment?”
“Yep, for tomorrow. I’m freaking out, but hoping it’ll make me feel better and sleep properly almost makes up for it.”
“Good. As I said before, if the therapist is any good, I might book an appointment too. God knows I could talk about my mother for a few hours.”
“I think that could take ages and be super expensive,” Erin replied.
“Mm, probably true. Speaking of which, are you going to be all right paying for your therapy while managing the payments on the gym?”
She was glad Isabella couldn’t see her grimace. “It’s gonna be tight. I’ll manage, though. Who needs to eat anyway? I might have to wait a while with buying more train tickets to Philly, though. And that sucks worse than any of the other ways I have to tighten my belt.”
“Yes, it does. But luckily for you, I can pay for tickets. And I’m still interested in investing in the gym.”
Erin chewed the inside of her cheek. Isabella investing made her so damn uncomfortable. It didn’t take much insight into her own baggage-filled brain to know that it wasn’t just about the money. What if she failed? She’d be failing Isabella too. Add to that the fact that she just wasn’t used to getting help, or money, from anyone. Ever. No matter what. She just didn’t know how to explain it without hurting Isabella’s feelings.
Coffee and Conclusions Page 24