The phone barely rings twice before my mom’s voice bursts through the speaker.
“Oh, Andy! It’s so lovely to hear from you sweetie, just let me get settled on the couch–RICHARD! Your daughter is on the phone! How are you, sweetie? It’s been so long since you’ve called.”
I can’t hold back my chuckle. They’ve always been this way, and it almost feels like I’m back in Cincinnati instead of leaning against my kitchen counter, New York taxis screeching and screaming nonstop outside.
“I know mom, I’m sorry.” I put the phone on speaker as I pour myself another cup of coffee. “I’ve been so busy. We just finalized the first issue since Paris last night. It’ll be in print on Sunday.”
I don’t think they care about Runway’s release schedule, but it’s better than everything else I have to tell them.
“Oh that’s nice, dear. I don’t suppose that woman has you doing anything more substantial than running out and grabbing her coffee?”
I perk up. “Well, actually–”
“Oh good, your father’s here. Richard, say hello to your daughter!”
A sigh comes through, and then, “Hey, hun,” in my dad’s measured tone. “How’s the city treating you?”
“Can’t complain,” I say with a smile to myself. “Tourists suck, and the bike lane is a death sentence, but hey, that’s just New York.”
“That woman still has her fetching coffee,” my mom huffed.
“Actually,” I try to interject.
“I know, I know,” my mom interrupts. “Everyone has to work their way up, but sweetie, you had a spot at Stanford law. If you have to fetch coffee, can’t you do it for someone who can actually help you on your way to a real career?”
This again? Really? I’m not surprised, just disappointed.
“Mom,” I say firmly. “Miranda is helping me get where I want to go. I’m meeting all the most influential people in publishing–”
“We don’t want to argue, hun,” my dad chimes in. “We just want to see you succeed. You have so much potential, we don’t want to see it wasted.”
“I am succeeding,” I say quietly. How do they always manage to make me feel like a child?
Is this why I don’t call them much anymore?
“We know, sweetie,” my mom placates. “Now, tell us all about Paris! Was Nate able to go with you? Oh what a romantic vacation!”
“Well, it definitely wasn’t a vacation.” I let her change the topic. “And no, Nate didn’t go with me. We actually … um … we broke up.”
My mom gasps and I put a hand over my eyes. It doesn’t stop me from seeing her clutching at her chest and grabbing my dad’s hand, as if I told her someone died.
“What?” she croaks. “Why? He was always such a sweet boy.”
Sure. Sweet.
“It just wasn’t working anymore,” I explain. “We were both so busy, and–”
“It’s that job of yours,” my dad grumbles. “That woman eats up every moment of your time.”
I grip my mug, my knuckles aching. Here we go.
“Her name is Miranda,” I grit out. “And I wasn’t the only busy one. He’s a cook, for god’s sake, his hours were just as insane as mine.”
“This is a sign you need to slow down, Andy,” my mom pleads. “You need to show him that you can be there for him, that you can put him first–”
“I don’t want him back!”
Stunned silence fills the air. I can’t remember the last time I raised my voice with them.
“I don’t want him back,” I say again, more calmly. “And anyway, that’s not really why I called.”
I want to get this over with. I have a mission, and I just want to get it done and maybe find a way to enjoy a rare Saturday off.
“Sure, hun. What is it?” My dad is the first to recover.
I take a deep breath.
“I have a … friend. She’s going through a custody battle, and I want to help her. I can’t do anything on the legal front, but how can I help her have the best chance for a good outcome? I thought maybe you guys would have some tips, since you’re family lawyers.”
“Well,” my dad says after a beat. “It depends on some things. Is your friend trying to gain full custody? Partial custody?”
“She has split custody with her ex,” I explain. I hope I’m not revealing too much. “They’ve had a steady situation for years, but now her ex is trying to get full custody.”
A few more beats of silence. Then, my mom, seeming to finally move past the Nate thing, says in her razor sharp attorney voice,
“This … friend. It’s not your boss, is it?”
I must hesitate for a millisecond too long, because before I can vehemently deny it, she goes off.
“Andrea Sachs! What has gotten into you? First, this woman treats you like a glorified errand girl, running all over New York City at all hours, and you just let her! Then she destroys your relationship—your future!—and now you’re getting involved in her personal affairs? A custody battle? My God, Andy, how much deeper into this woman’s mess are you going to let yourself sink? This is not your job, this is not your life, and if you can’t see that—”
“Mom, it’s not like that, I’m just—”
“No! It’s exactly like that! You’re in too deep. This is not your business Andy, and it’s certainly not your job. She’s a grown woman, she can handle her own affairs.”
“I know she can, I just–”
“Maybe you should come home. Come home, relax, get back on your feet, and figure out what you want to do. I’m sure we can get you a spot in another law program, I can talk to Dean Thomp–”
I hang up. I don’t say goodbye, I don’t tell her I’d rather fetch coffee than be a lawyer, and I don’t try, for a third time, to tell her that my debut piece for Runway will be in print tomorrow.
I just hang up.
I turn, put my hands against the cold counter, amd hang my head.
Silence. No more arguing, no more explaining. Just silence.
Then my phone rings again.
I glance at it, just to make sure it isn’t Miranda.
It’s not. It’s mom again. Does she really think I’m going to pick up? Why? To get chewed out for being disrespectful?
No. I’m not a child anymore. They don’t get automatic 24/7 access to me.
I don’t have to explain myself to them.
I let that thought settle. Then, I put my phone on Do Not Disturb. Except for Miranda.
I leave my phone on the counter, take my now lukewarm coffee, and fall into my couch. I turn on the tv and find a rerun of Survivor.
I need to not think, I think. Just for a few minutes.
I let out a breath, hold my coffee mug close to my chest, and let Jeff Probst’s voice pull me under.
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