or maybe a layout for your website, I could take a look. I know that you don't necessarily need investment, but I've had my investors put money into Meg and we've been quite successful."
"Meg? You invested in Meg?" She gasps.
"Yeah. You know it?” I ask, genuinely surprised.
"Of course I know it! I’m in the fashion industry. They're top of the line. They have none of that fast fashion crap that just pollutes all of the landfills in the world. They're actually able to give people a good price and make a hefty profit."
“That's what I thought, too.” I smile. “That’s why we invested. I mean, who doesn't want Target or TJ Maxx prices with designer quality?"
28
Dante
After my conversation with Mom, she's on cloud nine: excited, jubilant, confident in her designs. Obviously, decisions have to be made about the direction of this fledgling company, but she appreciates my approval, not just because I'm her son, but because I'm a man.
Despite all of her experiences and confidence as a woman, I know that she's seeking out, and perhaps will always be seeking out the approval of men that have no business approving anything that she does or doesn't do with her life.
Lincoln and Marguerite have arrived while we were upstairs, and Mom made no rush to greet them.
"Lina will show them in," Mom says when I mention this fact.
At first I’m concerned but, after talking to her about her purses, I'm glad that I could lift her spirits up a little bit prior to seeing Lincoln and Marguerite.
When we get downstairs, Lincoln is getting a beer out of the fridge. Mom immediately makes a face when she sees Marguerite. It’s rather subtle, but I notice it. The thing about her is that once she writes you off as someone who is a less than an acceptable choice for one of her sons, there's little that anyone can do.
Marguerite had the unfortunate experience of meeting Mom in college, dressed in sweats. Mom had dropped by and Marguerite just happened to be there studying in his room, hair unwashed, face without makeup. It was just a typical Tuesday night study session at Yale. And yet, for some reason, Mom couldn't grasp that concept.
I give them both hugs. Marguerite holds a glass of water, takes a sip, and cuts herself a lemon wedge.
"How are you feeling?” I ask and her eyes immediately flash up to me.
"Fine. Fine. Everything's great,” she says a little too quickly.
I was asking about the pregnancy, of course, but trying not to be too obvious.
"How's work?" I ask.
"Busy, tiring, but very rewarding," Marguerite says.
"So what kind of things do you usually do at the ER?" Mom asks after a cool hello.
She pours herself a glass of lemonade and offers us some as well, but we all decline.
She ushers us to the sitting room that's rarely used except for occasions like these and sits down in her grand white linen chair with a big oil painting of herself in a ravishing red gown. There’s a little black dog by her feet who belonged to a neighbor, but whom Mom loved.
She loved him so much that she included him in the painting instead of us, who were just kids then.
You can read into that as much as you like, but I choose not to.
Marguerite sits right next to Lincoln, placing her hands on the edge of her knees. She actually watched a number of YouTube videos about how to be a lady in order to make a better impression on our mom.
She learned not to cross her legs at the knees, but rather at the ankles, sit up straight, wear nude nail polish. In my opinion, she basically learned how to get rid of every part of her personality just to appease some person that honestly could never be appeased.
Lincoln exchanges looks with his wife, and I take a sip of my beer knowing that it's about to begin.
After a little bit of chitchat, he launches into it.
“Mom, we wanted to tell you that we have some great news."
She sits up a little straighter and raises one eyebrow.
"Oh, yes?"
"Yes, Marguerite and I are expecting a baby,” he says and her face falls. With her lips tensing up, forming a slim straight line across her face, she looks like she's about to say something incredibly mean.
Glancing over at me, I give her a smile of encouragement, but when I realize that she's a little bit slow on the reaction time, I stand up and