is doing a series of shows about my mom’s restaurant, in Kansas. They need me to go home and help out.”
Jay had picked up his glass while she spoke, sipping champagne, or pretending to. His eyebrows went straight up, and he let out a fast breath as he set down the glass, hard. His face was disbelieving, his tone flat. “They need you to go home and help with another reality show,” he said. He didn’t roll his eyes, but his look conveyed his disdain for the entire world Mae had become a part of.
“My mom really wants to do this,” she said. Damn it, he should be excited. It was a miracle that she could get back into TV, and so quickly, and he should respect her willingness to jump on it. He’d loved this part of her once. Loved her drive at the consulting firm, her ideas for her own business and the way she had launched it when Ryder turned one, growing it fast into a book deal and influencer status and practically a mini-empire.
Now all he ever wanted was for her to pull back and slow down. She pushed on, trying to reach the old Jay somewhere in all of this disapproval. “And for me, Jay, it comes at just the right time! Sparkling will see how valuable I am, and if they don’t, I can leverage this instead. You know how it is—it’s always easier to get a job when you’ve got a job.”
Jay glared at her, and she realized, too late, that her words probably sounded like yet another dig at his desire to take some time off “without boundaries.” She rushed on. “And my sister hasn’t done anything much since Frank died. She’s just stuck there, doing the same thing every day. This is a chance to help her finally get out of that rut.”
This time, Jay did roll his eyes. “Let me get this straight. You lost a TV show today, and your sister, who you haven’t visited in at least six years, has gained one. So you’re suddenly all revved to head home and be a part of it, and you’re trying to convince me you’re doing it for your sister and I should like it? That’s bullshit.” He pushed his plate away. “This is all bullshit, Mae. You’ve already said you’ll go, haven’t you? Already bought tickets. This isn’t you even asking me if you can take the kids off to be another sideshow somewhere. It’s you telling me. I bet you’re packed already, aren’t you? Tell me you’re not packed.”
Mae glanced toward the hall closet, where she’d tucked the suitcases, and felt her face get hot. “I did make plans, because we really have to go. This is a big chance for my mom and my sister—apparently business isn’t too great—and it’s a chance for me, and so what? I’m paying for it. I bought the tickets. I’m paying for Jessa to come with us. You don’t even have to worry about it. You just get some kid-free time to do your own thing.”
“You’re going to Kansas. And you’re taking the kids. To be on a reality show. And you didn’t even wait to ask me?” Jay’s voice was getting louder. “What if I’d worked late tonight? Would I just wake up in the morning and find a little note?” He shoved his chair away from the table and got up. “I hate this. I hate you not telling me things. I hate that now you’re going to take the kids, and there will be posed airport pictures, and cute little traveling memes or whatever, and then you’ll send them off with Jessa in some strange town while you try to get more fucking famous. You’ve got plenty of followers. When is it ever going to be enough?”
“I’m not just trying to get famous. This is how I sell more books, and get more work, and get paid, so I can pay the rent and the nanny and the private school tuition. This is the deal.”
“You don’t pay the rent and the nanny all by yourself, Mae. We pay the rent and the nanny. For our kids. And we have savings. Which I thought we could use, while we both take some time off to figure out where we’re going, because we are lost.”
“We’re not lost. We have a great life here. You just don’t see it.”
“I don’t see it because I’m never home to enjoy it.”