by Kilby Blades
“Anything else you want to tell me?” She put down her glass. All the better to cross her arms. She shot him her moderately-fierce look, wanting to make sure he knew she had his number. It was an act of mercy. He couldn’t handle full fierce right now.
As he sighed, his face etched in repent. “This weekend. I promise we’ll talk. Can we just…” He swept his hand over his face. “…get through tonight?”
Jada still had questions, but this wasn’t the place or the time. She’d give him a break—for now.
“It’ll keep,” she said quietly.
Hope flickered in his eyes from beyond the fatigue. She remembered their early flight. She led him to an empty sofa next to the roaring fire. She sat down first and held her hand up in invitation. Mild relief washed over his face and he took it, and sat. When she leaned into him a little, he did that magic he knew how to and tucked her into the perfect spot beneath his arm.
Eight
The Woman Who Turned Out to Be a Man
Marsh
Jada’s totally giving me a break right now.
It was better than he deserved and he would take what he could get. The later it got, the more chaotic things became. Fur flew as his mother pushed Minnie’s buttons for sport. Krista had taken an interest in what shamanism was and had peppered Ashley with questions until a very drunk Biff’s shaming her for her “stupid questions” chastened her into silence. Marshall Senior, already irritated and listening intently to get a read on Ashley, had forcefully told Biff to knock it off. Ashley had put his hand on Biff’s shoulder and said “You can’t fix yourself by breaking someone else.” That hadn’t gone over well at all.
It didn’t help that Marsh had checked his phone twice and each time the likelihood of snow in Vermont that weekend was shrinking, or that he had no more information about why Maw Maw had insisted they all come together. The downside to living in California was feeling out of the loop. But he’d asked nearly everybody. It unnerved him that no one seemed to have figured Maw Maw’s reasons out.
For the moment, things were quiet. Jada looked thoughtful as she stared at the fire and settled into his arms. Part of him was relieved. She’d had to find out sooner or later. Ripping the band aid off had hurt. But maybe after this, they could go back to their normal lives.
“Can I take our bags upstairs?” Marsh looked up when he heard Ashley’s question.
Kate stood talking to Susie. “Up the left staircase, darling. Down the hall to the right and third door on the left.”
Marsh may have gagged a little when this Ashley character held his mother’s shoulders from behind and kissed her before floating out the door. But what was he going to do? His mother was a grown woman. She wasn’t in any danger, and even if this was bad judgment, she was still of sound mind. Marsh supposed she could keep company with as many shamans as she wanted.
“I thought you were a lesbian.”
Minnie’s faced had been etched with judgment since Kate had introduced Ashley to the rest of the room. Somebody saying it was only a matter of time. Kate hummed and dipped her fingers into a pile of marcona almonds. Marshall Senior leaned in.
“You did?” Kate feigned confusion. “What would make you think that?”
Among her own friends, Marsh’s mother wasn’t a cruel person, but she and Minnie had history. Kate had a not-so-nice habit of putting their different life choices on display. Minnie’s embracing of the trophy wife, socialite lifestyle stood in stark relief to Kate’s free-spirited don’t give a fuck. In fairness, Minnie had never treated Kate particularly well either, half from jealousy, half from disapproval.
Minnie lowered her voice. “You’ve been bringing your girlfriends to Mom’s house for the past ten years,” Minnie’s whisper-hiss was punctuated with the crossing of her arms. When talking to Kate, Minnie never referred to Maw Maw’s as home.
“Okay…” Kate replied slowly.
“You left Marshall for another woman.” Minnie was indignant.
“Is that why I left him?” Kate’s voice was as smooth and measured as the sideways glance she shot her ex, who wilted a little under her gaze.
“So you’re..,bisexual now?”
Marsh put his hand over his face to cover his smile. Jada gave him a discreet “Is this woman for real?” look. Minnie had a way of making things she knew nothing about sound like she’d gotten what little she did know from a USA Today article written in the early ‘90s.
“I don’t use that term,” Kate replied easily.
“What term do you use?” Minnie demanded.
“Pansexual.”
Jason stopped thumbing the screen of his phone and looked up at Kate with interest.
“Pan…what?” Minnie’s bitch face faded long enough for her to look genuinely confused.
Kate picked up a dried apricot, looking a bit bored as she dipped the fruit in chestnut honey. “Just Google the phrase, gender is a construct.”
Minnie stood frozen and staring at Kate, her jaw slacked more than a little. Her surgically-lifted eyes finally closed in a labored blink.
“What’s that?” Uncle Peter asked loudly. He appeared to be messing with his hearing aid.
“Kate switched back to liking boys,” Jason intoned slowly and loudly enough for Peter to hear, though, he was thumbing his screen so incessantly, Marsh was sure he was Googling the term.
“She gonna get back together with Marshall?” Peter asked at full volume. He glared openly at his nephew for a long moment before regarding Kate with softer eyes. “Never should’ve divorced that woman in the first place,” he muttered.
“Do you really think it’s appropriate to parade your latest girlfriends or boyfriends or…whatever…in front of your ex-husband, in your ex-mother-in-law’s house?”
Kate smiled smugly at Minnie even as she chewed a mouthful of apricot. If Marsh knew his mother, she wouldn’t gratify the question with a response. It turned out she didn’t need to. An unmistakable voice rang from the grand entryway of the salon.
The lady of the house stood regally, her presence overshadowing even that of the much taller and extraordinarily well-built Ashley, who had taken her arm and was presently escorting her inside. She wore a smart, timeless evening suit—a pale cream with gold brocade. Maw Maw had just arrived.
“Millicent,” she scolded sharply. “You’re being rude. Ashley is a lovely man and, most importantly, he is my guest.” She turned her glare to Marshall Senior, but raised the volume of her voice, stepping toward her brother, Peter. “And, no—Marshall never should have divorced our Kate.” When she shifted her gaze a third time, her eyes warmed as her gaze met his mother. “You and your friends will always be welcome here.”
Releasing herself from Ashley’s elbow, she stepped farther into the room, toward Jada, who sensed what was about to happen, and stood.
“And this must be the elusive Jada. I’ve been waiting a very long time to meet you, dear.”
Nine
The Matriarch
Jada
“Tell me, dear. Are you expecting?”
Jada had been busy throwing a “your grandmother seems lovely!” look over her shoulder to Marsh when Maw Maw posed the question. It was issued in the same casual tone she might have used to ask whether Jada had ever been to Connecticut before. Maw Maw had taken her elbow and insisted that they walk together to the dining room to be seated. They led the entire party back up the long hall, toward the front. Her visit to the salon had been brief—she’d stopped only to greet her guests, put Minnie in her place and give Jada a rather keen once-over. One which had led her to a baffling hypothesis: that Jada was with child.
“Maw Maw…” Marsh chided, hastening to fall into step next to them. “This is Jada’s first time meeting everyone. Let’s try not to scare her away.”
“It’s a legitimate question.” Maw Maw turned toward Marsh briefly before looking back to Jada with sharp eyes and a half-smile. “She has a glow.” She turned back to Marsh. “Maw Maw’s not getting any y
ounger. I need more great-grands. Lord knows I can’t count on Krista and Liz. Susie did her part. Now it’s your turn. Jada’s my only hope.”
Before Jada could answer (and what did you even say to that?), Maw Maw inspected Jada’s left hand, a feat she could easily achieve owing to their hooked elbows.
“Are you the kind of woman who doesn’t believe in marriage?” Maw Maw grilled. Jada had yet to get a word in edgewise.
Marsh chimed in. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“Hush, child. I’m asking the woman a question. Aren’t you always calling yourself a feminist? I think Jada can answer for herself.” Maw Maw took her free hand and swatted at her grandson’s arm, as if to shoo him away from walking with the pair. She turned her attention back to Jada. “What’s your view on pre-nuptial agreements?”
“No, no and no,” Jada said definitively, before Marsh could get in another word. “No, I’m not pregnant, though Marsh and I do want children one day. No I’m not the kind of woman who doesn’t believe in marriage. No, I don’t believe in pre-nups. I think the psychology behind them messes everything up.”
Maw Maw gave no reaction as to whether Jada’s answers were satisfactory. Instead, she turned a gimlet eye on Minnie. “You want to talk messed-up psychology? A lot of people could be happily divorced if no one was holding them for ransom.
“Anyway, dear…” She turned her attention back to Jada. “I was beginning to think I’d have to send an engraved invitation. I’ve been wanting to meet you for years.”
“Well I’m grateful to be with you here now,” Jada answered with a smile that belied her returning anger. This was her second reminder that Marsh had never given her any inkling that his extended family had wanted to meet her.
“The circumstances aren’t ideal, of course. It’s not often that there are pressing matters of family. I hear that being here today cut into your weekend plans.”
“Family first,” Jada said, even as she knew the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Maw Maw patted her hand just as they entered an enormous formal dining room. The table was set for exactly thirteen. Jada was certain that it could be extended to accommodate a party twice as large, if ever necessary. Crystal ceiling chandeliers and candelabras that sat on sideboards and sconces were wick-lit with actual candles. If Jada wasn’t mistaken, not a single inch of the room was illuminated by electric light.
The table was unclothed, yet laden with so many flowers, such an array of plates and cutlery, that no further adornment was needed. Glasses in the heaviest crystal Jada had ever seen were arranged in front of each place setting awaiting water, with separate chalices for red and white wine. A steaming feast sat waiting on bone china rimmed in gold. There was a turkey, of course, mashed potatoes, green beans and a few more things she couldn’t make out at the other end. It was lavish, set for exactly the sort of occasion this room had been built to host.
Jada jumped a little when she felt Marsh’s hand on her back. He shot her an “Are you okay?” look as he stepped past, pulling out the chair at the head of the table to help Maw Maw sit. Jada shook her head, not so much with a “no” vibe as with a “not now” one. His brows knitted in a combination of dread and concern when she mouthed, “Later.”
Good, you should be afraid, she thought indignantly as she stepped closer to the table. Most everyone else had walked past her and was looking at the place cards to see where they were meant to sit. She didn’t have to look far. A place card bearing her name was seated to the right of Maw Maw, corroborating what nearly everyone had insinuated by then: that Meeting Maw Maw was some sort of test.
Kate was across from Jada, with Marsh next to his mother and Marshall Senior on his son’s other side. Ashley sat calmly next to Jada herself. Biff and Krista sat at the far end of the table with Biff’s parents, Minnie and Steven. On the opposite side were Susie and her family.
By the time everyone was seated, Marsh was openly looking at Jada with concern. Jada, meanwhile, was trying to immerse herself in a conversation with Ashley. Just as he was exalting the joys of living off the grid, Maw Maw instructed the group to quiet for their prayer. Perhaps it was because Steven was her first born that she asked him to do the honors. It was nothing spectacular, but he was articulate about gratitude for their health, wealth and the company of their guests.
“So, Jada, you work in finance?” Susie inquired good-naturedly, the first to interrupt the sound of knives cutting on china. Despite the warmth of the candle glow, something in the air had turned cold. Susie’s question had been warm enough, but Maw Maw’s sharp admonition of Minnie had found her sulking. A nanny had long since swept up the children and taken them to another room. Jason looked a bit bereft without his phone in his hand.
“Venture capital,” Jada nodded after swallowing a bite of turkey that was a bit bland for her tastes.
“Software and biotech,” Biff chimed in. “That’s where you ought to focus.”
“A lot of upside, yes, but also a lot of risk.” Jada took a sip of her wine.
“So what are your typical returns on a Series A?” Biff referred to the riskiest round of funding. If a company failed to thrive, Series A investors may never see a return. For that reason, VCs tended to charge enormous fees in these rounds, requiring interest of anywhere from 30%-50%.
“15%,” Jada revealed calmly, as she’d done to many others before. “It’s half the industry standard, but my firm has an alternative model.”
Biff blinked. “An alternative to making money?”
“We focus on women and minority-owned businesses. We help them maintain a strong financial position, even after our exit.”
“If they can’t be profitable on their own, they deserve to fail,” Jason chimed in.
Jada cast an even glance in his direction. “I didn’t say we keep them from failing. I said we have an alternative model that helps their profitability by allowing them to retain more of their earnings.”
“So, what, it’s like Affirmative Action for investing?” Biff asked. His distaste for the idea was clear.
Marsh looked like he was bursting to say something, but thought twice.
“Every VC fund has a space it likes to play in. The space we like to play in is equality.”
“How is it equal to only fund women and minorities? That sounds racist,” Minnie chimed in.
Marsh put his face in his hands.
“Racism is a system of disadvantage,” Ashley said calmly, leaning in toward the table until he was in the perfect position to smile serenely at Biff. “Since minorities don’t hold the power to exact disadvantage on the objects of their bigotry, they can’t be racist.”
“Kanye West sure is,” Jason chimed in.
Biff looked between Jada and Ashley like both of them were crazy and scoffed. “Like hell they can’t.”
“How is it legal to favor women and minorities?” Minnie still seemed put out by the notion.
How is it legal for all the traditional VC firms to keep them out? Jada thought.
But she’d anticipated coming into this that she might have to use the voice she reserved only for the embarrassingly un-woke. “Less than five percent of VC funding goes to companies led by women and minorities. My firm is staffed with employees who understand the market potential of a range of businesses.”
“So you only hire black people? That’s straight-up against the law,” Jason complained.
“Jada is talking about women and minorities.” Kate threw Jason a sharp look. “You’re the only one talking about black people, you idiot.”
Kate turned to Maw Maw, who was at her side, and patted the woman’s arm. “And I think we’ve all seen how much money there is to be made when a strong woman runs a business.”
Biff and Jason had the decency to look chagrined, if only for their fear of insulting Maw Maw. The matriarch hadn’t uttered a word throughout the exchange. Jada went back to eating, sampling mashed potatoes that could have used a lot more butter and a little more gar
lic. Maybe the stuffing would be a win, she tried to convince herself.
“What Jada’s too modest to tell you…” She looked up at the sound of Marsh’s voice. He was not-at-all-shyly glaring at his cousin. “Is that hers has the highest revenue of any firm in its size in Silicon Valley. She’s so good at picking superstar companies that 100% of them have hit their return. And what she doesn’t do in margin, she makes up in volume.”
Marsh shifted his gaze to Jada long enough to give her a small smile. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kate raise her glass in concurrence at the same time as Marshall Senior nodded his head in agreement.
“And giving everyone a fair shot isn’t racist, Aunt Minnie,” Marsh continued a minute later. “It’s standing up to an establishment that has favored people who look like you and me for way too long. It shouldn’t be a room full of white guys deciding that the only companies that have merit are ones that are run by a team full of white guys.”
Biff scoffed. Marsh shifted his gaze. “You got something to say to me?”
“Like you’re one to talk,” Biff spat with venom.
“Excuse me?”
“Playing the part of the California liberal…looking down your nose like you’re so different than us.”
“I am different from you.”
“Oh, yeah? How?”
Marsh shook his head and raised his hands in frustration.
But Biff didn’t stop there. He kept provoking Marsh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do we get to hear again about all the important work you do? Since you’re a human rights attorney?”
Marsh stared at Biff darkly.
“I’m different from you because my life is about people. Not about money and power,” he growled.
Biff swirled scotch in his glass. He was the only one to have made the long journey to the dining room without leaving his drink from the big room behind.
“I don’t remember you saying no to your trust fund, or to the money you got when Paw Paw died,” Biff challenged.