Page 62 of Not the Plan

“Me too. I feel like the whole world is in our business even if nobody knows. I waited until the hallway was clear before I ducked into your office.”

She nodded.

“Because what if it gets back to Julian that you came here without an official purpose?” she said.

“Exactly.”

“It’s not fair.”

“It isn’t.”

“I wish we could just decide it didn’t matter and take the risk,” she said. “I wish—”

She turned to the outer office and tilted her head. Then she stepped through the doorway and motioned for him to follow. He collected his documents from her desk and went after her. She turned to offer him her hand.

“That’s good,” she said, voice confident. “I look forward to Senator Brown’s response.”

Looking confused, he returned her handshake and started to answer but was cut off by two people knocking on the open door. He nodded them a quick hello and thanked Isadora before he left.

—

Forty minutes later, Isadora let herself smile as she closed the door behind the departing reporters, twirling one of their business cards in her hand. Her assistant handed her a small stack of notes indicating the phone messages she’d missed during her meeting. But Isadora wasn’t in the mood to look at them all yet. She returned to her office and slid the business card into a box on her desk when two of the photos next to her computer screen caught her eye: RJ giving her a bouquet of flowers at the end of a salsa competition. She, RJ, and some of their San Diego friends at a paint and sip party. Picking it up, she smiled again. The party had been her idea. She’d stopped painting after graduation; it hadn’t seemed like the most judicious use of her time. Especially for something that was just for fun. But if it was okay to let her feelings in, it would be okay to let some fun in again, wouldn’t it? The blast of a siren coming from her desk wiped the smile off her face. The new ringtone she’d chosen for her mother’s calls did its job of warning her, but it also set her teeth on edge. Though the previous ringtone, a melody with chirping birds, had the exact same effect. She returned the photo to its spot.

“Hello, Mother,” she answered, pushing her office door closed most of the way.

“Isadora. What is the point of giving me your work phone number if you do not answer when I call? I had to leave fivemessages with that secretary. She knew it was important. She should have interrupted whatever nonsense you were doing and put you on the phone.” Her mother’s tone mixed condescension and pleasantness. That meant she wasn’t alone.

“I was in a meeting, Mother. She did exactly what she was supposed to do.”

Her mother huffed. “Your silly meeting couldn’t have been as important as my phone call. Anyway, I am calling to express my disappointment. I can’t believe I raised a child who goes back on her promises.”

“What promises?”

“To call your Uncle Ray and help him plan his Hollywood vacation. He’s right here and said he hasn’t heard from you at all. You should be ashamed. Only terrible people break promises to family.”

Isadora closed her eyes against the insult, massaging the bridge of her nose. She willed her jaw to unclench.

“What…on earth are you talking about, Mother?”

“Don’t play games with me, young lady. You will help your uncle because I say you will.”

The rapid shift from content and relaxed after the meeting to fight-or-flight mode made Isadora’s stomach burn and her head spin. Anyone else and she would have fought back. But direct confrontation was not only the best way to stoke her mother’s anger, it was the best way to guarantee Isadora being subsumed by her own emotions once the call came to an end.

“When did I make this promise?”

“Just the other day!” The pitch shift in her mother’s voice made it difficult for Isadora to think straight. She took a deep breath and returned to a system she’d used in the past to verify discussions her mother said had taken place.

“Where were we for this conversation?” Isadora sat back in her seat, chest out, shoulders back, hoping to counter her distress by getting her body into a more confident position.

“At the store.”

“What store?”

“Just the other day at the grocery store. I was on my way to the office and ran in to get something for lunch.”

Isadora sighed. She wasn’t crazy. There was no way this discussion had ever taken place.

“It was before you went to work, Mother?”

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