Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I picked at my food, finishing off my tea and champagne as my mother droned on about her life. She didn’t ask me about mine. Which was just fine by me. I didn’t want to talk about it. She hadn’t batted an eye at my arranged marriage. I doubted she would bat one now at the circumstances.
“Katherine, are you listening?” she asked.
I blinked and looked up. I had completely lost the thread of the conversation. My head was a bit fuzzy from the champagne. I’d had a second glass when offered.
“What were you saying?”
She sighed in disappointment. “I had a call from a friend.”
“Oh?”
“Deborah Morrison.”
“Oh,” I said again.
“She runs that charity foundation, ChildrensOne.”
“I know,” I told her.
She was the director that I’d blown off when I got home in such a spiral that I was able to do nothing but work out and sleep.
“She mentioned that you had spoken with her but that you canceled.” My mother’s voice dipped into a tone of disapproval.
Following through on promises had been the cornerstone of my upbringing. I hadn’t wagered that Deborah would know my mother. But of course, Celeste Van Pelt knew everyone who was anyone.
“Yes, I have been… under the weather.” It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth either.
“You don’t seem sick now,” she mused.
“No,” I said softly. Not precisely the truth either.
“Well then, I suppose you can let her know that you will make time again.”
“I cannot believe that she called you about this.”
“Why ever not, dear? She’s a close friend. She was worried about you,” my mother said. “You were taught not to break commitments. Hasn’t the Van Pelt name been dragged through the dirt enough?”
I took a deep breath and then released it. “Of course.”
There was no point in arguing.
“Should I reach back out to her?”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll go see her as soon as we’re done.”
“Excellent. Glad to clear that up.” She raised her hand for the check. “Also, have you lost weight?”
I stilled in my seat. Was this a trick question? I didn’t know the right answer. Not here with my mother. She played more head games than even I did.
“You look great,” she added.
I relaxed. Okay. She wasn’t going to say something negative or make it into an issue.
“Thanks,” I said with a confident smile. “I’m working with a personal trainer and a new nutritionist.”
The waitress dropped the check off.
“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s clearly working.” My mother gestured to the check.
Oh. Right. I pulled out the Percy black card and placed it on the check. My mother had her own money that my father hadn’t been able to drain away. Her maiden name was Cabot, and the Cabots were an old-money family that had essentially died out with my mother. So, now that my grandparents had passed, my mother had the reins of it, but so much of it had been squandered that it wasn’t enough to live as she once had. Just enough to stay comfortable. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d wanted Percy money to secure us further. She’d wanted the arranged marriage maybe more than I had.
Once the check was paid, we both stood.
“Excellent,” my mother said. “Wonderful to see you, dear. Do let me know if you need any other help with the charity.”
“I will,” I lied.
“You know, you should plan a party for them,” my mother suggested.
I soured. Why did everyone think the only thing I was good at was party planning? “Maybe. We’ll see what they need from me.”
“I’m sure your contacts would be sufficient.” She laughed. “Nothing brings in money like a party planner on the Upper East Side.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, hedging the conversation.
My mother kissed my cheek and then disappeared through the room with her iPad back in her oversize bag. I followed her out, taking the Mercedes uptown to Deborah’s office, which was across the street from the children’s hospital. I texted her to let her know that I was incoming.
“Katherine!” Deborah cried when I stepped into her office thirty minutes later. “I’m so glad that you could join us.”
I didn’t mention her subterfuge. I just smiled genially. “It’s good to be here. Last we talked, you were going to show me around the facility.”
I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. I’d never been a fan of hospitals. Not since I’d been stuck in one for six weeks.
But Deborah rose quickly to her feet. “Yes, of course. Do you have time for that now? I could take you around the children’s ward. Let you see why we do what we’re doing.”
“I’m free for a while. I have another appointment in an hour.”
She smiled. “Plenty of time. Come on.”
We walked out of her office and across the street to the hospital. My throat closed as we crossed the threshold. I’d thought that by volunteering for a children’s hospital, I’d be able to overcome my fear. That I’d realize it wasn’t the place that was the problem but rather that I had been locked away against my will. But now that I was here, my body didn’t seem to care about the difference.