Page 24 of Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay
Mom delicately cuts into her waffles. “Why do you need a change, Bea?”
“Because I hate being a lawyer. Because I’m tired of thinking like one all day. Because the constant pressure of trying to get everything right, building watertight arguments on top of the never-ending learning curve, is too much.”
“Nonsense,” Mom says with a little laugh. “You love being a lawyer. You have a great job and a happy life.” Mom pats Dad’s arm reassuringly.
“No! I don’t have any life. I work all day. I come home and work some more. I live with my parents. I live in my sisters’ shadows. I’m a”—I will not saycactus—“a tepid sponge filtering seawater, just standing up day after day and doing nothing.”
“Tepid sponge?” Dad says around a mouthful.
“I can’t work for you anymore, Dad. People will think I’m unhirable, and they’d be right. You’re cushioning all the blows a young lawyer is supposed to take her first few years out of law school.”
“Hold up. I’m confused.” Dad shovels more cut strawberries onto his waffles. “Am I the bad guy for caring too much or too little? Because it can’t be both. Logical fallacy. Etcetera.”
“Either/or constructs are stupid,” I mumble, pouring more batter onto the hot waffle iron. I enjoy the hiss it makes. I want to hiss. When is it my turn to hiss?
“But so effective for the weak-minded.” Mom squeezes lemon over her second waffle. “I think I know what this is. You need a fella.”
Unbelievable. The next words out of her mouth are going to bebabiesandgrandchildren. “No. I’m not dating anyone when I live with my parents like I’m still some brace-faced high school student.”
“Who is that nice boy you interviewed from Yale last week?” Mom asks Dad before she sips her fresh orange juice. “The one who was coxswain of the rowing team?”
“I’m moving out,” I shout, dumping the waffle that was going to be mine into the sink. “I’m quitting law and getting another job. Even if I have to work in Adam’s escape room!”
My parents exchange a long-suffering look.
“Bea. Can we be sensible about this?” Dad says. “You’re bored. You’re feeling overworked. You’re embarrassed that you’re still single and living at home.”
“I’m not embarrassed!” My mind flashes to Mike’s smirk in my bedroom. I’m…mortified.
“Just ready to jettison everything and everyone in your life?” Mom laughs. “That’s not smart. You don’t throw away hard work on a whim. Especially a whim that’s as silly as a little burnout and envy.”
“Envy?”
“I know it’s hard when your sister made partner so quickly.”
“Oh my gosh.”
Dad adds another waffle to his plate. “This is what we’ll do. We can move you to some slower projects. More paperwork. Fewer client consultations—”
“No! Stop telling me what I’ll do. My entire life has been about racing down a well-worn path without stopping to ask if it’s what I want. If it makes me happy. Because whether it’s what I want or if I’m happy doesn’t matter. It’s the family path, so it’s my path.”
Dad’s looking exasperated but stays quiet when Mom lays her hand on his arm. “What do you want to do, Bea?”
“I want a change. More…and less…of everything.”
“More and less?” I know Mom wants to sigh. I can hear the frustration in her voice.
“More free time. More time outside. More time at the beach.”
Dad reaches for the coffeepot. “Oh, she wants to be a hobo.”
“Less work. Less traffic. Less house. More money for…for being young and enjoying life.”
“La Jolla.” Mom says, pressing her linen napkin to her pink-peony-stained lips. “You’re describing La Jolla. Doesn’t Harry have an office in La Jolla? Bea could find a nice little condo downtown. Walk to work. Walk to the beach. Clear her head.”
“Keep an eye on Adam.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s in Pacific Beach, Dad.”
