“Yes. I don’t want you to blame me.”
“Why don’t you think about someone else for once? That might give you some insight into your personality and relationships.”
She makes an affronted noise.
“You and Dad always embarrass me, always humiliate me, and always take away what I want the most.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic! What did this article cost you? Nothing! So what if people know who your parents are? They’re probably dying of envy that you have a celebrity mother and father.”
“Nobody gives a damn that you’re famous!”
“Nonsense! We didn’t get famous for being ax murderers!”
I fight desperately for control. She isn’t listening to anything I’m saying. “I want a normal life. I want people to respect me for my own accomplishments, not thinking about you or Dad when they’re dealing with me. I don’t want anyone to wonder if there was any sort of special favor bought and sold. I had to work extra hard to have what little satisfaction I can take from my career because of you and Dad.”
“We didn’t do anything!”
“Are you serious? You always took away what I wanted. Always!”
“Like what?” she says.
“My reputation!” I grind my teeth. “Churchill!”
“Who?”
“My dog!”
“Oh.”
“And Taekwondo lessons. Judo lessons. Horseback riding. That cat you took back to the pet store after only two days! Should I go on? There’s a lot on my list.”
“Why are you angry? You got to do a lot of them anyway, including the stupid kickboxing!”
“Because Dad paid for them to spite you!”
“So are you saying you like him better than me?” she demands, as usual making everything about her.
“Oh, for God’s sake, no! He always took something in return. Respectability and normalcy were his price. He never did anything just because it made me happy. Maybe that’s why I’m such a good economist. I learned at a very young age that there’s no free lunch!”
“Now who’s being dramatic?”
I grind my teeth. Her ability to empathize is nil. I’m wasting my breath by trying to make her see things from my point of view. “If you ever have your peers lose all respect for you, perhaps you’ll understand how this feels. Goodbye, Mother.”
I hang up and turn off the phone. The vein in my forehead throbs so hard that I feel dizzy. I’m going to have a damn stroke.
Actually, that sounds like a fantastic end to my life.