Page 15 of Tangled Like Us
Thatcher crosses his arms. Eyes narrowed on the street before veering to me. “You want me to change the channel?”
“It’s okay.” I frown a little. I’m perplexed, really. “I posted nothing terrible last night. Just a picture of my mom and me and a book…”Jane Eyre, my namesake. My voice fades as the radio host, Jackie, describes the photo.
“…and listen to this caption. Jane wrote,spending time with these beauties.”
I gape at the car speakers. “And what’s so wrong with that?”
Jackie continues, “Jane Cobalt clearly isn’t spendingenoughtime with her mother because she’s nowhere near the same caliber of woman as Rose Calloway.”
My jaw drops further.
Thatcher is glaring at the row houses that pass us by.
“Oh, for sure,” Cathy agrees. “Jane Cobalt is so ditzy in comparison. Rose Calloway is fierce and dominant. It’s hard to believe Jane Cobalt is even her daughter.”
My eyes flash hot at the radio. “Wow. Stomping on me just to uplift my mom.” It happens too often, but when other women try to pit me against her, it hurts a little more.
The media will run bogus stories about how I’m jealous of mom’s success. Celebrity news loves to define most of my female relationships in my family as catty, competitive, andjealous.Perpetuating an ugly stigma that we cannot work together or support one another.
I would much rather cheer in the stands and watch Sulli win an Olympic gold thaneverhope she loses. I can’t imagine rooting against people I love. It must be a lackluster truth since it’s never graced a tabloid.
But the more the media compares me to my mom—just to point out my shortcomings—it does become harder to ignore my failures.
“Now that I think about it, Jackie,” Cath continues on the radio, “what has Jane Cobalt even accomplished in comparison to her mom?”
Here we go.
I press my lips together. What have I done?Not much, really.
Jackie laughs. “Sheboughther way to Princeton with her last name and notoriety.”
“I did do that,” I admit aloud. Because I will never truly know if I would’ve been accepted to Princeton based on academics and merit alone. I’m very conscious of how much of a leg up I have in life.
“Such a shame,” Cathy says. “Jane Cobalt was so intelligent in math. She could’ve been an engineer.”
Jackie makes a disappointed noise. “Instead, she just rode the coattails of Maximoff Hale and helped his charity.”
“Which Maximoff Hale was kicked out of!” Cathy exclaims with a laugh of disbelief.
“But you have to remember, Cath, his parents are addicts. The fact that Maximoff Hale has stayed sober is a real feat—”
“It is,” I interject in agreement.
“—and Jane hasn’t even come close to him. What is she doing with her time now? She’s living off Mommy and Daddy.”
Thatcher grumbles an Italian word that sounds like a curse, but I can’t be certain.
Cathy snorts. “And she probablyactuallybelieves she’s as successful as her mom.”
My shoulders sink.
Of course I haven’t achieved anywhere near what my mom has in her lifetime. My family is full of overachievers and goal-oriented prodigies, and as the eldest of the brood, I am pressured to live up to the Rose Calloway Cobalt ideal every day.
My mom started her fashion company when she was only fifteen. Ladies and gentlemen, let all of that sink in.
Fifteen.
I’m twenty-three and I can hardly decide which brand of toothpaste to use.
