Page 52 of Grease Monkey
“No…”
“That means you are not to speak to him, see him, or contact him again.”
“No, Mom…”
“Do I make myself clear?”
“Mom, please, don’t do this. I love him.”
Her lip curls, and for the first time, I don’t recognize my own mother.
“I will let you live your life in whatever fieldbusinesswill allow. But I will not have my daughter tied to that trash.”
“Then I refuse. I’ll go to Harvard. I’ll become a lawyer. But I choose Teddy. Please, Mom, don’t make me do this.”
She slinks toward me, brushing my hair away from my face with force.
“Morgana, I know how much this hurts. My mother did the same when I was your age.”
“What?” I ask as a tear lands on my bottom lash. I swipe at it angrily.
“I was in love with my family gardener. I know, the cliché.” She rolls her eyes. “But I know my place and sense of duty, Morgana, and so should you. We are there to make sure our men succeed. Your grandfather was the CEO of a bank. Great grandfather, the chairman of Yale New Haven Hospital, Great-great grandfather, worked in the White House. Do you see where I am going with this? All successful, top-of-their-field men, and all because of their wives.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because a mechanic is an embarrassment to our family, Morgana.”
“Then I’ll do what Skip did. I’ll leave. I’ll never speak to you again if you make me do this.”
Mom’s eyes harden. “You will, Morgana. You forget what your father does for a living. One word from me and your father will file paperwork to the right person, and Teddy’s father’s shop in Stamford will be shut down. He will go to prison for tax evasion or something equally disgraceful, and I won’t stop there. His pilot brother? Wyatt? He will have his pilot license revoked, blacklisted from both private and commercial airlines. Bowie, the one who takes pictures? Well, I’m sure inappropriate images of children could be found in hispersonalcollection. And Teddy, I’m sure a boy who’s been saving every penny he earns just to open his own shop would never overcharge his customers and skim off the excess.”
Each disgusting scenario is like a slash wound across my heart, and my mom blurs as my eyes grow wetter and wetter with every word. How could she be so cruel? Time seems to have slowed, the feeling of happiness and promise replaced by an overwhelming feeling of powerlessness. She’s won. There’s no way I can stop this. My body gives up, dropping me to my knees.
“Do you get the picture, Morgana? If you don’t comply, your littleboyfriendis the one who ends up hurting. You’re eighteen—a child—you don’t know what love is. I might break your heart for a day or two, but you’ll realize that you made a mistake by being with that boy in the first place.”
“You can’t do this,” I cry, tears spilling down my cheeks as my hands dig into the carpet.
“You underestimate how much power your father has. And you underestimate me. Now, stop with the theatrics, Morgana, and go wash your face. Richard will be here in ten minutes to take you out for lunch.”
I choke on a sob. “What?”
She holds the folded letters in the air. “You think I’ve just found these? When I saw Yale had offered you a place, I called Richard and arranged a little get-together for you two. As he went there, he is the best person to tell you all about the school, the campus and, if I’m perfectly honest, sweetheart, he is of a caliber I’d expect for you.”
“I love Teddy.”
She tuts. “Don’t be so naïve, Morgana. You don’t love him, and if you think you do, you will fall out of it as quickly as you fell into it. Get off the damn floor, wash your face, and make yourself presentable.”
She walks over to my discarded bag and digs around for my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to message that boy and tell him it’s over.”
“No, Mom, please…” I sob, scrambling forward on my knees, my face soaked with tears that won’t stop coming as I clutch at her pants leg, begging her to give me my cell. “Let me do it. Please. He won’t believe it if it comes from you.”
She thrusts the phone in my direction, and it feels like a lead brick. “Fine. But you will let me read what you are going to send first. Then you will prove to me you’ve blocked and deleted him on everything, Morgana. That includes social media. And if I find out you’ve so much as sniffed in his direction, I will ruin him and his family. Do I make myself clear?”
My head drops forward as my whole world crashes around me. I can barely see as it takes me several attempts to key in my passcode, and I can feel my heart physically breaking inside my chest as I slowly type out the hardest message I’ve ever had to send. Mom stands behind me, looking down at my shaking fingers moving sluggishly across the screen, detailing lie after lie about how he never meant as much as he did to me. The swooping noise of the text being sent is loud and echoes on repeat in my brain as I become numb, sitting in the middle of my room, cold and alone. Once I’ve shown he has been removed from everything, she runs her hand down my hair.
