Where the Heart Is E-Book

Roslyn Sinclair

• Herausgeber: Ylva Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 43

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Publishing magnate Vivian has it all: a flourishing career, a happy toddler, and her adoring lover, Jules. The only thing missing is family approval. Can Vivian reconcile with her family during a tense trip to the Midwest with Jules? An age-gap ice queen lesbian short story from the Carlisle series that asks whether you really can go home again.

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Where the Heart Is

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Where the Heart Is

by Roslyn Sinclair

“So, Jenny, how much does it cost to dress a baby in Chanel?”

Don’t grind your teeth, Vivian Carlisle told herself. You’ve spent too much money on them. Julia says you have a million-dollar smile.

“Felicity doesn’t wear Chanel, Mom,” she said instead. “And my name is Vivian. It has been for over twenty years.”

“What, the first eighteen years didn’t mean anything?” Mary Fluharty arched her eyebrows in a gesture Vivian knew she’d inherited. “How about the first eighteen months? Come to Grandma, princess.”

She reached out for Felicity, who was currently clinging to Julia’s neck. Julia was clinging right back, standing at the door of Vivian’s childhood home with a diaper bag at her feet.

Julia looked a little stunned by her surroundings. Sort of like a bird who’d smacked into a windowpane. Perhaps it was one of the dirty windowpanes behind the twenty-year-old sofa that faced the fifteen-year-old TV. Nobody would associate this environment with a fashion publication executive—at least Vivian hoped not. She’d worked hard to make it so.

When Mary tried to take Felicity from her, however, Julia seemed to snap out of it. For her part, Felicity only clung tighter to her second mother.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be stubborn like your mommy,” Mary urged, as if Julia wasn’t even there.

“Which one?” Julia asked.

Good girl, Vivian managed not to say. Stand up to her.

Finally, Mary deigned to look at Julia, who looked steadily back. Vivian watched her mother decide between two options: insulting her daughter’s girlfriend or holding her grandchild.

“Stubborn comes from all sorts of places,” Mary said. “Could be either of you.”

“Agreed.” Julia placed a kiss to Felicity’s forehead, her full lips brushing the downy brown hair. “It’s okay, bug-a-boo. This is your grandma. Can she give you a hug?”

Felicity hid her face in Julia’s neck and shook her head.

“Not yet,” Julia said to Mary. “She’s shy around strangers. She’ll warm up soon, though, she always does.”

Mary seemed flabbergasted. “Not even a kiss for Grandma?”

“We’re teaching her body boundaries,” Vivian said. “If she doesn’t want someone to hug or kiss her, she can say no. It’s important for her to learn that right away.”

Mary gave Vivian a look of disbelief.

Vivian fought not to squirm. Back in New York, hundreds of people quaked before her glare. In Toledo, Ohio, her own mother could still make her feel like a disobedient child. She said, “Once Felicity knows she can trust you, she’ll be all over you, believe me.”

“Body boundaries,” Mary muttered. “Well, I guess being a parent’s not like it used to be.”

Thank God, Vivian thought.

“Anyway, come in.” Mary gestured at the living room with its worn carpets and ancient furniture. Vivian had tried for years to update the house, but her offers had always been refused. “Have a seat. Want something to drink?”

“No thank you.”

“Same,” Julia agreed, making her way to the sofa with its faded pattern of roses and stripes. She sat down on it with Felicity in her lap.

Vivian sat next to her, wondering if someone had filled her spine with steel. Not the metaphorical kind that meant willpower. Literal steel. She couldn’t relax.

What had she been thinking, coming here? Maybe the holiday season had weakened her. It was mid-January and, yes, the Christmas card her mother had sent had made her feel a little guilty. A year and a half since Felicity’s birth, and Mary still hadn’t met her grandchild. Julia’s soft encouragement had finished the job.

That, and the fact that the second-parent adoption had been finalized two months ago. Julia was legally Felicity’s second mother now. A certain sense of security came with that. The days when a homophobic judge could pluck a child from two mothers and hand her over to other relatives were over, thankfully. And Vivian couldn’t imagine Mary trying such a thing anyway. Nevertheless, it was good that her new family was…secure before rushing into the maw of her old one.

Now here she was, in a gray winter place on a gray winter day, sitting next to her former assistant and current girlfriend, plus their daughter, who was the result of a surprise pregnancy with Vivian’s worthless ex-husband.

Girlfriend. It seemed obvious that Julia could—should—become more than that, especially under the circumstances. But could anyone blame Vivian for being a bit gun-shy after her previous marital experiences? Julia said she wasn’t interested in bowing before “patriarchal institutions,” anyway. She had once used the phrase “toxic masculinity” in Vivian’s presence; Vivian had given her fifteen minutes to tire herself out before silencing her with excellent sex. So the status quo was…fine. No need to shake things up.

Mary sat down on the armchair across from the coffee table. Today she wore dress slacks, loafers, and a button-up blouse. It was the same uniform she’d worn throughout Vivian’s lifetime. She still colored her hair the ash blonde and teased it into a cloud. Vivian’s mother seemed unchanging but for the increasing lines on her face.