Page 1 of Filthy Commitments
Part One
Jett
“I don’t need your help to find a wife, Mom!” I shouted loudly over the phone, as I got out of my comfortable leather executive style desk chair; walking with pounding feet toward the floor to ceiling windows. The sun is setting over the Pacific, creating waves of color flickering on the water. “I’m not even looking for one. I am only twenty-eight years old, for goodness sake.”
“By the time I was your age I was married, had you, and was developing the recipe for the cinnamon buns that got us all where we are today.” Her voice had taken on a nasally tone as she bitched at me. “Your father would like to retire someday. A thing he can’t do until you’re ready to take over as CEO. This is a family business, Jett. You’re our only heir. And you’ll need an heir of your own in the future. Don’t you let all your father and I’s hard work go to waste.”
And there was the guilt!
Always with the guilt. My mother was a master at wielding it like a double edged sword. She inherited it honestly, her mother used it like a weapon too.
“Mom, can you get down to why you called? It’s after five, everyone else has gone home for the day, and I’d like to get the hell out of here too.” I leaned my shoulder against the wall and sighed, wishing I could just hang up the damn phone. But it was my mother on the end, no one hangs up on their mother! Well, some do, but not me. I was raised better than that.
“Oh, yes dear. I completely forgot to get to that. First, how’s it going in L.A.? Is business good? I hope you have those numbers up. After going global last year, we must uphold those sale figures. We put you in charge of our largest distribution office for a reason, to get your executive feet wet after college, which you graduated from six years ago, by the way. I thought you’d be at the top by now, giving your old dad a much-needed break. That man peddled my baked goods all over the United States for three years before we made a name for ourselves.”
“Mom!” I narrowed my brow as she was making my head begin to ache. “I get it. And our sales are great. Now, can you please get to the point of why you called? Surely, it wasn’t just to lecture me on how hard you and Dad worked to make Sin-a-buns Sweetshop the successful business that it is.”
“Oh, yes! The vacation! The whole family, your grandparents from both sides, Uncle Pete and Aunt Sally, their twins, and everyone else will be at our summer place in the Hamptons during the second week of June. It’s like a reunion of sorts, only a really long one. And I’ve invited a few of the neighbors to stop by for our evening meals. Hopefully, you’ll like some of the eligible young women who’ll be coming over for the extravagant dinners, I’ve planned for each night that week. Maybe you’ll find one that suits you, marry her, and give me some grandchildren.”
“Kind of getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you, Mom?” I said with my not so subtle irritated tone.
“Not at all. You need to find a woman, Jett. I mean it. You know you’ll have to be married, and settled down before your father hands over the keys to the company, so to speak. Living like a rock star, the way you’ve been doing, won’t cut it.”
Clinching my fists in my pockets, I made my way back to my chair. I wasn’t happy about a family gathering that would last an entire week. Topping it off with my mother playing matchmaker and all the snooty rich bitches from the Hamptons was the icing on the cake that was making me sick to my stomach. “I hardly live like a rock star, Mom.” She was really starting to piss me off.
“What would you call it, Jett? You haven’t had a steady girl since high school. You broke little Sandy Smith’s heart when you dumped her and went away to college. I saw her mother last week when I went to see your grandmother in Jersey. She said Sandy and her husband Dave moved to the street we used to live on. Only three doors down from our old house where you two used to sit on the porch swing, holding hands. She was such a sweet girl, Jett. What happened?”
That sweet girl wasn’t what she seemed to be. Sandy Smith was the biggest manipulator I’d ever met. Not even eighteen yet and she wanted to get married. She wanted it so badly, she tried to get her ass pregnant to trap me. Lucky for me, I noticed the box of condoms had been messed with and found the pin holes she’d stabbed through the foil pouches. She was quite the bitch.
“We just weren’t as compatible as we seemed to be, Mom. Anyway, how’s Grandma doing?” I was trying desperately to change the subject to anything that wasn’t related to my personal life.
“She’s just fine. Her gout was flaring up, so I took her some homemade soup. The trip from Manhattan to Jersey was a bit rough for me, though.”
“And how’s that? Didn’t you let Stan drive? That is what he’s paid to do you, know.” I spun around in my chair, glancing at the now dark window and wishing I could get off the phone. “Mom, can I call you from my cell?”
“No, I hate those things. I like landlines, you know that, Jett. Anyway, Stan had a doctor’s appointment, and I took the car. It’s been so long since I’ve driven myself. I found it difficult to navigate my way back to where we lived for twenty years. I got melancholy about our simple life in Jersey. I mean, I love our Manhattan penthouse. I love the money that came from all of our hard work too. But it’s just such a difference and I only seem to notice it when I go back there.”
“Then don’t go.” I leaned back in the chair, sure that she was going to make me stay at the office all night just to talk to her.
“My parents live there, Jett. And your father’s too. I can’t just not go.”
“I don’t go there. Send the car to pick them up and bring them to you. There, I’ve fixed your problem. And, Mom, don’t go trying to drive yourself around. Let Stan do it. I bet Dad didn’t know you took off like that, did he?”
“Well, no. And he was upset with me when I got home, and when he saw me getting out of the car. He gave me hell when I told him how I had gotten lost twice.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I felt my father’s pain. The woman was a genius in the kitchen. In other aspects, not so much. “I love you, Mom. That’s why I’ll say it one more time, let Stan drive you where you need to go. If he’s got an appointment, you can wait. Grandma’s gout won’t get any better or worse if she gets your soup a few hours later.”
“Maybe you’re right. Anyway, about finding you a wife, I talked to Gertrude the other day. We were talking about some of the things we could do during the family vacation. Well, she told me that Mrs. Finkerstein’s granddaughter will be staying the summer with her. Now, that family is like Hamptons royalty, as you well know. I think that girl might be perfect for you.”
And there we were, back to the matchmaking. “Mom, you don’t even know her. How could you possibly think she’d be perfect for me? I think you just want to get me in with some snooty family so you can claim to be part of it. Not cool, Mom.”
“What’s wrong with wanting to belong to a prestigious group? And what’s wrong with wanting to see my one and only child happily married? I’m going to push this, Jett. I am!”
I could see that she was. My wheels began to spin. How could I get her off my back?
Lie, of course!
“Mom, I’ve actually have been seeing someone.”
