Jaded (The Butterfly Memoirs) (17 page)

“What exactly do I have, Zack? When I look at my best friends, I am jealous when I shouldn’t be.  Both of them are in committed relationships with men that adore them…Kaitlyn has started a family. You think I don’t want those things? Just because I refuse to be in another relationship doesn’t mean I’ve stopped wanting them.” Yasmine paused and wiped at tears with the heel of her hand before staring out at the ocean. “You know what I have, Zack? No home, no business, and no family of my own. Nothing to indicate ‘Yasmine Phillips was here’. The only thing I have is my car…which my parents paid for, by the way.” She inhaled deeply as if fighting off more tears.

“You have more than that.”

She huffed and let out a cynical laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“Yasmine, look at me.” It took a couple of seconds, but eventually she faced me. “You have beauty, you have your health. You’ve got a good heart and a family who loves you, even if they aren’t giving you the support you want right now. They trust you. It they didn’t, you wouldn’t have been put in charge of running their business.

“They’ve spent money and time grooming you to be the best at your job. They trained you so well that you’re ready to take what you’ve learned and use it to serve a purpose you feel works best for you.”  She breathed deep. My words were hitting the target. “You’ve got two parents who are alive; be thankful for them. Treasure them because you never know what could happen. You don’t want the last thing you said to them to be something you’ll regret for the rest of your life.”

Yasmine’s eyes welled up again, and this time, she turned away from me. I sat quietly while my words sank in.

“I hate you right now,” she murmured. The steel in her eyes had melted away to a mellow grey when she shot me a sideways glance.

“But you know I’m right.” Unable to resist, I put a finger under her chin and turned her face so her gaze held on me. “There’s something else you have.”

She sniffed. “What?”

I inclined my head and stared deep into her eyes. “You’ve got me.”

Chapter 20

I sat in the driveway of my parents’ house, keys in hand, my head resting on the driver seat’s headrest.

For the past week, the conversation with Zack made me think. Life was too precious to waste time being mad. Did I feel wrong about my decision to leave the family business and go on my own? No. But I could have handled it differently. Most people gave a two-week notice before leaving. Mine lasted two seconds. I owed my family more than that.

Both of my parents’ cars were in the driveway, and since it was seven o’clock in the evening, I knew my mom would be in the kitchen making dinner. She loved to cook; it was the way she unwound after a long day.

I made up my mind no matter how this evening turned out, I would not leave upset again, no matter what either of my parents said.

I sucked up my pride, got out of the car, and rang the doorbell.

“Yasmine…is everything okay?” My father’s heavy eyebrows were weighed down in concern when he opened the door. It nearly broke my heart. I hadn’t spoken to either of them in weeks.

“Hi, Dad, I’m okay. Is it alright if I speak with you and Mom?”

“Of course.” He stepped aside so I could enter. “She’s in the kitchen.”

I waited for him to lock the door and followed him down the corridor to the kitchen. My father’s laid-back mood didn’t surprise me. I would always be his little girl, no matter how old I got, even when I disappointed him. My mother would be the opposite. Whenever she got angry, the Irish temperament came out and she’d hold a grudge for days; so did I. Maybe the weeks gone by since the argument would have calmed her down.

I steeled myself as we entered the kitchen. My mother was barefoot, wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt with the words ‘World’s Greatest Mom’ on the back. I bought it for her two years ago.

“You know, that’s still true.” I stood in the doorway waiting for her to turn and acknowledge my presence.

She turned in surprise. “Yasmine, what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to both of you, if that’s okay.”

My parents looked at each other before my father pulled out a chair from the kitchen table for me to sit.

“We’re listening,” he said.

I took a deep breath. “First of all, I want to apologize for the way I acted the last time I was here. It was childish, selfish, and not how you raised me to act.”

“You got that right,” my mother said, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She sat down at the table across from me.

“I’m not saying this because I was wrong about what I said or asked, only how I responded to your answer.” I spoke directly to her.

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, her fiery grey-blue eyes steady on me. I fought the urge to squirm in my seat. I wasn’t twelve anymore. I was twenty-eight, a woman on my own who had the right to say whatever I wanted. I only needed to be respectful to the people who gave birth to me, raised me, and taught me to be the woman I’d become.

“Rachel.” My dad put a hand over hers, his silent way of calming her. “What did you mean to say, Yasmine?”

I took a deep breath and focused on what I wanted to say, ignoring my mother’s disbelieving facial expression.

“My goal of opening my own business is not just about me. Yes, it is my goal to become a fashion consultant, but I also want to help our family.”

“How could becoming a fashion consultant help manage the hotel?” my mother snapped.

I forced myself to ignore the urge to argue. “For the past four months, I’ve been running a test study at the Inn. It started by accident. One of the customers asked if I knew any good places to shop for an outfit. I gave her a list, but she returned a few hours later disappointed. I asked her what she was looking for and gave her suggestions on what she could do. Frustrated, she begged me to go with her, offering to pay me for my time. I had no intention of taking her money, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to help.” I paused to read my parents’ expressions. Nothing.

“After a few hours, we found what she was looking for. She was so happy she gave me a generous tip and promised to book a weekend for her and five friends to come back. She wanted me to help them, too. She came back - with her friends - a month later.”

“Wait a minute; she came back with more people?” Dad asked.

“Yes, five actually. They ended up booking three rooms.”

My dad sat back, the wheels obviously turning in thought. My mother’s eyebrows creased as well.

“I went with them, on my own time, and helped them shop. All of them were pleased when they left. They decided to make a girls’ weekend trip to our Inn and shopping every few months a tradition. And they want me to help them.”

My father leaned forward, his elbows propped up on the table. “So what you’re saying is you’ve found a way to increase the revenue of the hotel, even in the off season?”

“Joe, I think she has,” Mom answered before I could speak. “Can you imagine if that kind of service were offered at all of our locations? I don’t think there is another bed and breakfast that does that.” Excitement flashed in her eyes as she calculated the numbers, her business instincts kicking in.

I sat back in shock. This wasn’t what I’d expected to happen.

“What are you thinking, love?” My father asked.

Mom’s full attention turned to me. “Yasmine, would you be willing to put together a package deal to offer your services at all of our locations?”

I was floored. My plan had been to come here, make amends, and apologize for my behavior, not have my parents jump all over my idea.

I put my hands up. “Wait a minute, you told me my idea could destroy the family business. Now you want to take my plan and run with it?”

Mom sat back, glanced at my father, then down at the table. “I’m woman enough to admit I was hasty in jumping to conclusions.”

My father cleared his throat.

“Okay, more than hasty. If you’re here to apologize, then I apologize, too.  I should have taken the time to hear you out, regardless of the fact I didn’t feel it was right for us…even you, at the time.”

My gaze went back and forth between them. “Are you saying you’ve changed your mind?”

She inclined her head. “I’m saying I am willing to approach this project with an open mind. We reviewed the business plan you left behind. You seem to have done your research. At the time we couldn’t figure out your vision, but now that you’ve explained it, I can see where this could help the business while you get what you want.”

I bit my lip and studied them both. My father nodded in agreement to her words. “Why now? I thought you didn’t have the money.”

“We’ve gone over the numbers and found some we could spare. But we would have a few stipulations,” he said.

I sat back in disbelief. “What kind of stipulations?”

“This service is exclusive to the Phillips’ Family Inns. Of course you can do what you want on your own time, but marketing it to outside hotels would be off limits. You’ll also have to make yourself available to work with customers at each of the three locations. The Inn will also retain a percentage of the profits.”

I sat back in my chair. “Will I have access to a room at each location for customer consultations?”

“We can find space for you at each location,” Mom said.

“How much of a percentage are you looking for?”

“We’ll need to go into more details into how you plan to run this and sit down with our bookkeeper. But I promise it will be fair.”

“Do you expect me to come back to work?” This answer would be a deal breaker.

My parents looked at each other. “That would be up to you, Mimi,” my father replied. “We’ve already worked out management for all the locations. Besides, for this to work, wouldn’t you need to travel between locations at any time?”

“Though it would be nice if you were available to help out a few days a month,” Mom added quickly. “At your discretion of course.”

My mind spun. They actually wanted to do this. On terms that were reasonable. No outrageous stipulations, no ifs.

“What do you think?” Dad asked after a few minutes of silence.

“I think we can make this work.” I smiled.

“Great!” Dad slapped his hand on the table in approval. “We’ll set a time for you to come by next week and work out the details. If that’s all, I’m grabbing a beer and going to watch the game.” He got up from the table, kissed me on the forehead, and left.

Mom and I sat in silence for a moment before she got up to stir the contents of the pot on the stove.

“Thank you for believing in me, Mom.”

“Mimi, I never stopped believing in you, ever. It just blows my mind sometimes; you’re not my little girl anymore. Sometimes you come to me with things and my first instinct is to say no.” She chuckled softly. “I’m way overdue for understanding that you make your own decisions.”

“I’d say just a little.” I held up my thumb and forefinger for emphasis.

“Where are you staying, if you don’t mind me asking?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“With a friend’s mother.”

She turned with raised eyebrows. “Is this a male or female friend?”

I couldn’t fight the smile from emerging as she turned back into full mom mode. “Male.”

“Hmm…is it someone we know?” She put the lid back on the pot before sitting back down.

“No, but you saw him. He escorted me to Ebony’s wedding.”

Both eyebrows arched. “That handsome young man? He’s just a friend?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Yeah, something like that.”

She laughed and tapped the table with a nail. “Ahhhhh, he’s one of those special friends. I get it.”

“Mom…,”

“What? I’m not about to say a thing.” There was a moment of silence. “Okay, I lied. Why aren’t you dating him?  He disappeared before we got to meet him, but even from a distance, I could tell he was into you.”

I sighed. “I’m not in the dating market and neither is he. Besides, I’ve been hurt…,” I clamped my mouth shut and gave my manicure full attention.

“How? Are you still upset about Carlos? Baby, that happened years ago.”

“No…there was someone more recent.” I glanced up and saw her full attention was on me, concern apparent in her eyes.

When I was younger, my mother and I talked about everything. But as I got older and my dating experiences didn’t yield the results I wanted to share, I kept my decision to avoid serious attachments to myself.  I wasn’t about to tell my mom I was having sexual encounters with various men with no expectation of a long-term commitment.

Maybe she knew, because eventually, she’d stopped asking.

“I was engaged a few months ago,” I blurted.

“What? To the guy who came with you to the wedding?”

I shook my head sadly. “No, to the man who raped Ebony.” Pain hit the pit of my stomach hard; I lay my head on the table.

My mother was speechless. My family knew the details of what happened to Ebony; she’d been a part of our extended family since we met in college. My parents viewed her as a second daughter.

For what felt like the fifteenth time in the last week, tears leaked from my eyes. Why was I crying so much? Tough, resilient, capable of taking anything life threw at me was the armor I put on in order to take on the world. Since being in the company of Zack, it felt as if the wall I’d put up, brick by painstaking brick, was crumbling.

My mother’s hand rested on my back and rubbed. She’d gotten up and walked around to sit beside me at the table. When I looked up, her eyes were running like mine, except her tears were silent.

“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because…” I sat up, sniffed, and wiped my eyes with my hand. “I was engaged for four hours to a man I’d been seeing on a…friendly basis. Out of the blue things heated up between us, and before I could bring him to meet you guys, he’d proposed.” I blew my nose in the napkin she offered. “I called Ebony to share the news, and a few hours later, Brian showed up and beat the crap out of him. He had no idea Ebony had been raped until she told him, neither did I.”

“I still don’t understand why she kept it a secret. He should have been arrested as soon as it happened.”