Page 1 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
Chapter 1
Piper
The most important lesson I’ve learned from my mother, Cynthia Quinn Lopez Forsythe soon-to-be Richmond, is that a woman who lets a man define her life ends up losing everything. Mom has given up everything for men. And they’ve always left her for something—or someone—new.
I’m not making that mistake. Ever.
So, no one should be surprised that I’m reluctant to accept anything connected to Malcolm Forsythe, my soon-to-be ex-stepdad. Not even a twelve-million-dollar beach house a short bus ride away from my hard-fought internship in a city with a severe housing crisis. I’ve sworn for years that I’ll make it on my own, but unless one of the three dozen LA landlords I’ve reached out to in the last few weeks calls me back today, I’ll be showing up broke and homeless.
Which is why I haven’t ended this call with Mom, even though I’ve already said no to her offer to stay in a free beach house—the only asset she’s taking from her marriage to Malcolm. Necessity is the mother of compromising high ideals—or something like that—and I’m out of optionsandideals.
“Piper, for goodness’ sake, you won’t be staying inMalcolm’shouse; you’ll be staying inmyhouse,” Mom says, followed by a muffled, “Not so short, Kelly. Joe likes them long.”
Of course she’s calling me from the nail salon. I should have known.
I tuck my phone between my shoulder and ear as I yank open the top drawer of my dresser. I haven’t seen my AirPods since Ashley, my nightmare roommate, “borrowed” them last week. No way am I broadcasting this conversation on speaker. The last thing I need is for Ashley to hear anything about me living in a bougie beach house in South Bay. She’ll show up for a “visit,” and I’ll have a squatter situation on my hands.
I drop clothes into the suitcase at my feet that takes up most of the floor space in my room that’s technically a walk-in closet. “If you’re not getting any money from Malcolm in the settlement, then you’re going to need the house. You can sell it or rent it out.”
“You need somewhere to stay more than I need an income. I’ve got Joe to take care of me, honey.”
“That’s what you said about Malcolm. And Ricardo.” I don’t add my father to the list. I’ve never met him, but I’m sure his promises were just as empty.
“Joe is different,” Mom says, her voice drifting into that sugary dreamland where love lasts forever—again.
“And rich.”
Did I say that out loud?Mom’s silence makes me think I did.
“He’s not rich,” she says, finally.
What she means is that Joe only has millions of dollars, notbillions,like Malcolm.
“The point is…” I shove the drawer closed, and it slips off the track. I catch it and try to wrestle it back in. “Based on past history, you should play it safe, Mom.”
One more shove and my glasses slip down my nose while the drawer splits down the middle. Furniture from a box isn’t known for its quality, but that’s all I’ve been able to afford while attending Parsons in New York. Good thing I wasn’t planning on taking anything besides my clothes and my sewing machine home to LA. I was hoping, though, to get ten dollars for the dresser off Marketplace.
“You’re not going to change my mind, Piper…Ouch! Careful, Kelly!”
I doubt Kelly has hit any rawer nerve than I have, but if I keep pushing Mom, her poor nail tech is the one who will take the heat. I tuck a pile of shirts in my suitcase as Mom enters round three of repeating how she’s going to solve my problems. What she doesn’t say is that, in the process, she’ll feel like a good mother.
“I’ll be fine for the next six months while you intern at Valente,” Mom repeats, “and honestly, Piper, I know LA. What else will you do? The beach house is your only good option.”
I sigh, finally ready to surrender. At least I tried, for her own sake, to talk her out of giving me the beach house. But formysake, I've never been so grateful for my mother's stubborn nature. Even if I only stay in the house—which will always be Malcolm’s house in my mind—for a month or two, it gives me time to figure something out.
“When, or if, you’re ready to move on when this internship ends,” Mom continues, “I’ll decide what to do with the house.” Then… “a little shorter, Kelly.”
The faint whir of a nail file fills the silence. “Anyway, I’m having too much fun renovating Joe’s place in Kauai to step foot in Malcolm’slovenest any time soon.”
I let out a short laugh. The sour note she hits on the word “love” sums up my feelings regarding it, too. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Mom. And I appreciate you want to help.”
“Sweetie, it’s more than that,” Mom says, her tone more serious, which catches my attention. Serious moods are rare with Mom. “The reason I dropped my fight for alimony and a stake in Malcolm’s company and agreed to just the house in South Bay is foryou. I want you back in LA, and South Bay is the perfect place for a young, single,beautifulgirl to meet someone.”
I pull my phone away from my ear, so Mom won’t hear me roll my eyes.
“Stop rolling your eyes!”
“How…?” I stammer, then catch myself. “I’m not!”
