Diary of a Stage Mother's Daughter by Melissa Francis

Author:Melissa Francis
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Weinstein Books
Published: 2012-10-28T22:00:00+00:00

When summer rolled around Tiffany didn’t come home from Berkeley. She decided to stay up in northern California, to get a jump on the required classes for sophomore year by knocking out a few over the summer.

The decision felt like a wise move. When she’d come home for holidays, at first, she’d seemed like a new person, free and happy. She’d slept in late, and we’d hung out having coffee and toast until we decided to get manicures and pedicures together or go to the mall shopping. I loved having a pal around the house, and Mom doted on her, at least initially.

But after a few days, Mom was picking at her, criticizing her sloppier appearance or where she threw her dirty clothes, and it seemed to me they couldn’t coexist under the same roof for longer than a week.

“It might be time for you to go back to the dorm,” Mom growled over a heap of wet towels on the rug in Tiffany’s room.

“I will pick them up! Jeez! I’m still using them,” she said from other end of her closet, where she surveyed what little she’d left behind.

Still, Mom didn’t like to be left out of what Tiffany and I did. So she’d come to the mall but quickly wear out her welcome.

“Those pants look tight,” she said from the couch outside the dressing rooms where Tiffany was trying on some new Guess jeans.

“Well, I’m not starving like I was at the end of last year. I could stop eating if you think that would be better,” Tiffany said while fixing her eyeliner in the mirror.

“I’m sure there’s a middle ground between starving and eating pizza and drinking beer. I just don’t want you to gain all the weight you lost. Have you gained the freshman ten? Have you weighed yourself lately?” Mom pressed.

It wasn’t the best conversation to have in the middle of a store. I knew Mom road us about weight because of her own struggles with a fluctuating figure, but inflicting pain on Tiffany right on the spot wasn’t the way to make a visit home a pleasant one. I gave Mom a pleading look.

“What?” she snapped.

“I don’t know,” I said quietly when Tiffany went back into the dressing room. “Maybe go easy on her?”

“Oh, of course. It’s all me. I’m the bad guy. You guys gang up on me and I’m the bad guy. You only bring me along for my wallet. That’s all I’m good for. Pay for your clothes and keep my mouth shut! Why don’t I just take my wallet and go home and see how you two like it!”

Her response was so disproportional to what had come before it, but there was no reasoning with her.

So Tiffany’s decision to get ahead of the course load was brilliant, no matter how thin that excuse sounded.

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