Chapter 2

The following day I get up early to meet Mom. I drive the Range Rover, which I hate, back to my childhood home.

Hallo Mansion, as we all call it.

They open as soon as I pull up to the big, golden front gate with the enormous letter H. Mom must've told security to watch out for me.

This house and the land that surrounds it genuinely are a marvel. All the trees and beautiful flowers line the driveway, almost half a mile to the massive water fountain.

It's a Mediterranean-style home. The front of the mansion has a beautiful arc entryway, stucco siding, and tile roofing.

Twelve bedrooms, fifteen baths, two kitchens. There are also two pools, tennis and basketball courts, and a twenty-car garage.

My dad always tells me that I will inherit this place. I don't want it. I am not a flashy person, and this place is too big. What will Max and I do with twelve bedrooms?

No doubt, play hide and seek. It makes no sense for me to own this place.

My Grandparents were the ones that built it. Of course, Hallo Mansion was one-fourth its size back then. Grandma and Grandpa added to it, and so did Mom.

When Hallo-Mansion was given to me, Grandma told me she would never be offended if I sold the house. Grandpa always argued back. He would the mansion be an orphanage and take care of the less fortunate.

My great-grandparents met in an orphanage. It was a beautiful story. One, my Grandpa would repeat every year during the holidays.

Mom and her chauffeur walk out the front door to greet me.

I jump out of my car. "Morning, mom!" I was" e at her. I have a smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes.

I've been dreading this outing all week. I love my mom dearly, but her personality isn't mine. Her obsession with the finer things in life makes me nauseous.

Mom walks toward me; her arms are outstretched. I look at her rather tight, long sleeves, black and white dress.

Is she going to church?

Mom matches it with her favorite pearl necklace and black platform pumps.

Of course, she smiles as she scans me from head to toe.

Mom will never walk down Rodeo Drive with someone wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

Not even her daughter.

Mom would send me home immediately to change. It's happened once or twice.

Everything I'm wearing, Mom had a hand in purchasing. I make sure of it. That way, she can't complain at all.

A white Alaia button-up shirt with simple gray shorts. Hot pink Louboutins and a matching purse. I topped it with a vintage, gray Chanel scarf. I feel so uncomfortable.

Why didn't I wear the pearls she got me for Christmas instead of this itchy scarf?

I really want Mom to question what I am wearing. It'll give me great satisfaction to tell her she bought everything I wear!

"You look divine, sweetheart! You must give me the name of your stylist," mom says as she throws her head back and laughs. She then hugs, and air kisses me. I roll my eyes and pretend to enjoy her request.

Mom then puts her hands on my arms and examines my face. She then grabs my face and rubs her lips together. This is precisely how it was in middle school, examined from head to toe.

"Sammy, please touch up your lips. You look like you barely have anything on. You know us Hallowell women must look sharp at all times."

I exhale deeply. "Yes, mother," I say through gritted teeth.

I sit next to the door, looking out of the window. Mom is next to me, going on and on about my upcoming wedding. The limo ride to the store quickly became very unpleasant, as I predicted.

I remembered begging Max to speak with Mom after we got engaged. To tell her we hired a wedding planner who didn't want or need her help. A tedious task that probably scarred him for life.

It was months ago on a rainy day. Mom, Max, and I were in the living room at Hallo Mansion. Mom was in the middle of a text war with someone. Now and then, you'd hear her suck her teeth or yell at the phone. Max and I were playing goldfish near the fireplace.

He loves playing anything related to cards.

Since goldfish was the only game I knew, he gladly played with me.

Max was about to lay his last two cards on the table when Mom began talking about our first wedding dance.

I instantly got annoyed.

She must've done with her texting. She stood up and made her way toward us.

I kicked Max underneath the table and opened my eyes wide at him. He had promised that today was the day he'd she'd tell Mom about our wedding planning. A talk I don't want to have with her myself.

Max inhaled deeply and put his cards down. He turned in his chair towards mom. "Rebecca, I appreciate all the help you are trying to give us. It's been very helpful," Max began cheerfully.

Mom placed her hands on Max's shoulders and smiled as she stood behind Max. She then squeezed his shoulders. He froze under her touch.

"Anything for you both! You know that, dear! I want this wedding to be bigger than the royal wedding itself. Can you imagine the tabloids?" She inhaled and exhaled happily, looking out of the window.

"Well, "I wanted to talk to you about that," Max said, turning to her. He looked over at me, frustration and nervousness spread throughout his face.

Maybe it was a bad idea to have him confront Mom. They both had a great relationship, and this could ruin it.

"Okay. "Mom smiled as she stepped toward me, crossed her arms, and looked back and forth at the two of us. I stared directly at Max.

Max cleared his throat and smiled. He made it seem like he had nothing significant to tell her.

Like it wasn't a big deal.

"Well, we've decided you shouldn't worry about the planning. It would help if you were as relaxed as our other guests. You know, enjoy the festivities! Leave all the planning to the wedding planner we hired."

Max" looked at me and smiled. I guess he wanted me to add to what he said. I was going to when I looked up at Mom. However, I stopped when I saw the green vein protruding above her left brow.

Max must've seen the vein, too, and tried to throw Mom a bone. One she clearly wouldn't pick up.

"Well, there's the bridal shower!" He yells with a chuckle. "You don't care for the planning, right?" Max hurriedly asked her, turning pale. He then looked at me. I nodded, trying not to laugh.

"You b "th want to see me dead," she" whispered sinisterly while looking from me to Max.

My smile instantly fell. I knew where this was headed.

She then flipped and yelled, putting her hands on her hips. "Why!? How can you deny me my only child's wedding? And you want to give me scraps?! A bridal shower?! What would Grandma think?!"

Mom" gave us both a disgusted look. She threw her hands in the air and walked in a complete circle, continuing to talk to herself.

Why did she always have to bring Grandma up? If anything, Grandma would take my side.

Tears began pooling in her eyes as she furrowed her brows. She clutched onto her chest and threw herself onto the nearest couch, where she started to have a panic attack. Max stood quickly.

He looked at me and then back at Mom, a frightened look on his face. Max didn't know that Mom was quite the little actress. She was only throwing a tantrum for attention. One I wasn't to feed into.

Daddy walked into the living room just then, holding a glass of scotch. He shook his head when he saw Mom sprawled on the couch. No doubt he heard her foolery.

My Dad's Dad's Tim. He is of average height and build. Salt and pepper hair to match his beard and mustache. He has more salt than pepper poking through, but he is a very handsome man indeed.

Daddy walked towards Mom and kicked her leg softly. She began hyperventilating, fanning herself with one hand and holding her chest with the other. A panicked look on her face. Daddy then looked at Max and reassured him that she was okay.

"Rebec "a, I think your mother, God bless her soul, would tell me to take away your credit cards and to not give you any shower to control. Would you like that, dear? Or maybe the kids should just elope?" Dad turned to Max and me. I shrugged my shoulder and smiled.

Not a bad idea.

Mom stopped the mid-panic attack and composed herself rather quickly. She sat straight up. "Fine!" She sniffled as she continued to compose herself on the couch. "It is like you are all against me. I will do the shower, but I can't promise I won't interfere with your wedding plans," she said, pointing at us.

"I will "cancel our trip to Figi for the summer," Daddy interrupted, taking a sip of his scotch. Mom tilted her head back and exhaled rather loudly in defeat.

"Fine! I won't interfere at all with the wedding planning." She got up from the sofa and pointed at the three of us. Clearly, this conversation wasn't. Mom walks out of the living room in a hurry, her heels echoing in her wake.

Coming back to the present, I notice we arrive at Rodeo drive. The driver drops us off in front of Balenciaga. A store that sells nothing but expensive purses and clutches.

Mom has to pick up the clutch she will use for the gala.

We walk into the store, and Mom goes straight to the counter. I walk to the closest wall and look at their new Fall line. The purses and clutches line every inch of wall space in this store. It reminds me of Mom's Mom's closet.

"Honey "do you have everything you need for next Saturday?" She asks as she pulls her phone out from her purse.

"I do," I say, wrapping my arms around my chest. I begin to smile. "I'm excited that you get to meet my future in-laws." I grab a tiny, red clutch off the shelf and examine it.

"I know! I can't wait to meet them too! Especially his mother. Tell me, what is she like?" Mom turns to me. Her eyes glisten as she awaits my full rundown on my future Mother-in-law.

I am instantly irritated.

She only wants to know if Mrs. Crawford's closet is as big as hers. "Mom, they are not from money. I told you this already." I move a strand of hair from my face and continue to look through the shelves. I don't want her to see how agitated I am becoming.

"Oh, that's a shame!" Mom gets closer to me and begins to whisper. "My heart always goes out to the less fortunate. How they make it in this world is beyond me."

I squint at her. This is why I don't like being around her too long. These comments are completely unnecessary!

"Mom, " Max's parents are homeowners! They are not poor. Stop!" I sigh deeply and roll my eyes at her.

We suddenly hear someone clear their throat behind us. The employee hands my mom her item. A look of disgust on her face as she walks away in a huff.

How embarrassing!

We continue our walk up and down Rodeo Drive to find another store to shop in. So far, I have one shopping bag, and Mom has about six.

Correction! The chauffeur is carrying those six bags. The poor guy! Mom never makes it any easier on him, either. She has him carrying her purse too.

As we make our way to the next store, I turn around every couple of seconds. I feel like we are being followed. It's unsettling, and I hate that Mom isn't paying any attention.

"Would you stop looking around like that! You're making me nervous, Samantha," Mom says as she looks around.

An expression of annoyance creeps on her face as she looks in the direction I am focusing on. She grabs me by my arm and turns me so we can continue walking.

"Mom, I think someone is taking our picture," I tell her, worried.

Mom suddenly stops, a tiny grin forming on her face. She fixes her skirt and turns slowly, her left hand near her face. It's as if she's on the red carpet of an award show, and the photographers are directing her moves. She begins smiling like a maniac.

"Mom, it's not paparazzi! And if it is, we are not important enough to be taken pictures of." I shake my head and begin looking around again, irritated this time.

Mom cuts her eyes at me. She instantly brightens up when she sees a magazine stand positioned near the curb. She walks towards it and starts looking through the collection of magazines and newspapers. I approach her, looking around cautiously.

"Oh, you're right, Sam! Isn't it a travesty that we aren't famous?" Mom exhales as she throws her head back in annoyance. She purchases the magazine and grabs my arm. We continue down the street.

Mom sighs. "Breaks my heart to not be famous. Why do you think I like to go shopping with Kris Jenner? Definitely not for her personality, darling! I love when I open a magazine, and my picture is in it."

Mom releases my arm and points to a picture in the magazine. It was indeed the picture of her and Ms. Jenner. Why am I even surprised by this?

She keeps going on and on, but I ignore her. The person taking our picture has me creeped out. Someone is following us. I am sure of it!

"Mom, let's stop here for a second." I walk towards Starbucks. I need coffee because I'm sporting a significant headache. I suspect it's from hanging with Mom for far too long.

"Hi! May I have a venti, iced, black coffee with extra sugar?" I smile at the barista. I look around and see the place isn't as packed as it usually is.

I hand the barista my credit card, and she swipes it, handing it back. "Sure! Name, please." She pulls out a sharpie and grabs a cup.

"Sam."

"Coming right up, Sam!" The all-too-happy barista says. She writes my name on the cup. "And you, ma'am? What would you like?" She asks mom, who isn't paying attention.

Mom does a double-take at the barista. "Sorry? Oh! No, no! Nothing for me, dear. I don't drink coffee. It'll stunt my growth."

Mom moves her hair from her face and leans on the counter. "And you shouldn't be working here. Such a pretty little thing like you! You don't want to be short forever, right?"

The barista gives me a confused look and then looks back at Mom.

"Inhaling such toxic fumes eight hours a day! I couldn't deal with it!" Mom says with a shocked look.

Caffeine and my mom are on opposite sides of the spectrum. The barista looked at me, confused.

"Mom, you are fifty years old! You are way past stumping any type of growth. Stop!" I suck my teeth and roll my eyes at her. Mom can be so embarrassing at times. The barista looks around, trying not to laugh.

Mom stands tall and slaps the counter with her hand. She is appalled. I am about to walk away when she grabs my arm, moves me aside, and pinches my stomach. I yelp!

"Are you crazy, Sam?! I don't have hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to look like this, and you make those stupid jokes!" Mom" whispers rather angrily while pointing up and down at herself.

She looks around to see if anyone has noticed our exchange. They clearly do. Some are whispering, while others are laughing. It makes Mom glare back at me.

"Mom, you won't burst into flames or melt if someone were to find out your age. Relax! And you look amazing. We could pass off as sisters." I give her an apologetic look as I rub the area she pinched. It really hurts!

She sucks her teeth, places her hands on her hips, and then mulls over my words. Her face suddenly lights up. My words make her feel better.

We sit and wait for my name to be called when Mom points in the direction of a really hot guy.

He has dark brown hair. A beard and mustache to match. The man is wearing black sunglasses and has a nice tan. He's wearing an all-black suit. No expression on his face whatsoever.

The stranger is watching the television, conveniently positioned above my head.

"If I wasn't madly in love with Daddy, I'd climb that tree," she whispers as she runs her finger down her neck, crossing her legs.

I give her a disgusted look.

A week later

"So there isn't going to be a prenup or anything? Wow, that's love! I wish I could find someone like that," Rachel says, taking a sip of her espresso.

I am meeting my best friends for lunch at our favorite restaurant. Nobu.

Just then, a waiter comes around and grabs our empty plates. We are in the corner, towards the back.

"Uh, you did! His name is Jeremy, and you cheated on him," Rhonda blurts out, annoyed.

Rhonda then gives her sister a disgusted look and shakes her head. Rachel and Ronda are identical twins. We've known each other since middle school and are polar opposites.

Both Rachel and Rhonda look like runway models. Tall, dark chocolate skin with long, jet black hair. They are both wealthy. The daughters of a hotel mogul.

Rachel acts precisely like Mom. Very materialistic and highly opinionated. Rhonda was a mix between Mom and me. She has my quiet personality but will shop her behind off.

"I know I cheated on him! Stop reminding me every time I bring up wanting a relationship! It's infuriating," Rachel whispers angrily! She starts tapping her fingers on the table and suddenly stops. "Maybe I should call Jeremy. You know, to see how he's holding up." She picks up her phone and begins looking through it.

"Stop being a whore then, and you already know Jeremy has a new chick," Ronda says happily.

I look around nervously. Thank goodness the restaurant is nearly empty!

Rachel looks at me, shocked. "Can you believe this?! My own flesh and blood calling me a slut." She puts her sunglasses on and continues looking through her cell phone for Jeremy.

I guess Rachel doesn't know he has a new woman in his life?

I sigh as I take a sip of my iced tea. "So you're going to try to reach out to Jeremy even though he's taken?" I look at her in confusion. "What you did to him was very dirty. And I know Jeremy. He won't take you back," I say, looking at Rhonda. I feel awkward having this conversation, but Rachel needs to hear it.

Rachel snaps her head in my direction. She puts her phone down and crosses her arms over her chest. I think Rachel will let me have it, but she instantly calms down; she knows I'm right!

"Yeah. You're probably right! There is plenty of fish in the sea anyways."

I look down at the time on my cell phone.

Shoot! I am running late.

"Girls "I have to go! I have to meet Mom and get ready for tonight. See you both there, right?" I gr" b my phone and purse. They both smile at me as I stand up. I kiss them and walk as fast as possible out of the restaurant.