Page 191 of With a Cherry On Top

Amelie’s unwavering gaze is set on hers, but she crosses her arms, like she’s bracing herself against her mother. “Mom.”

“I, oh . . . I don’t know what to say. You’re back.”

“Yes, I’m back. You showed up here and hired my husband’s services under a different name, all because you wanted to see me. You waited for me to be back from Mayfield. Well, here I am.” She raises her chin. “What is it that you want?”

“Well, I want...” She walks over and reaches for Amelie, who jerks back. Beatrice’s expression sours immediately. “I...want to get to know my daughter. To be in your life.”

Amelie’s shoulders rise and drop. “That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it. Of course.”

“Oh.” Amelie half-giggles. “That’s easy then. No thank you.”

Beatrice’s lips turn into a frown. “Dear, I know I’ve hurt you, and my methods might have been unorthodox, but?—”

“Why did you tell Charlotte I didn’t want to get to know her?” Amelie interrupts, and Charlotte shrinks in the corner of my eye. I pull her closer, as if getting her physically away from Beatrice will somehow fix this. “I asked about her every time you called.”

I barely resist the impulse of taking Charlotte’s face in my hands and sayingSee? I told you she’s a good person. I told you she wouldn’t leave you behind.

“Well...” Beatrice shifts position. “It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to meet her, or?—”

“The only memories I have of you prior to you leaving Dad are of a decent mother. Of course, what the hell did I know—I was five. But I get it now, the way Dad always spoke about you. How he called you avipère.”

Beatrice’s eyes go wide. “Yourfather?—”

“My fatherstayed. You left. And when you couldn’t leave, when Charlotte’s father walked out on you, you...what? Decided to make her life miserable?” Amelie’s expression is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Angry, accusatory, but also leveled, like she’s immune to Beatrice’s effect. “You’re right, I should have asked Charlotte to meet me. I had no idea what she was going through with you. If I had, I wouldn’t have let this go on for so long.”

“That’s...” Beatrice scoffs, “I’m starting to see parts of Hammond in you.”

Though there’s no way Amelie doesn’t understand that’s an insult, she smiles. “Thank you.”

“There’s a lot we need to talk about, Amelie, but?—”

“Actually, we don’t need to talk about a single thing. I’m not here to reconnect. To repair the wrongs and have you in my life. In fact, I don’t want you anywhere close to me and myactualfamily. That’s all I’m here to tell you.”

Beatrice’s lips wobble, but she steps back with a tight shake of her head. “Well, then. You heard her, Charlotte. Let’s go back in.”

Charlotte tenses in my arms, and even though she makes no movement, Amelie holds a hand to her arm like she’s scared she will. “That’s what I’m here to tellyou, not Charlotte.”

She turns to Charlotte, her demeanor shifting. Patient, affectionate. “Charlotte, I can’t make this decision for you, but Icangive you an option.”

“What—what option?”

“Come with us. My husband and I have a beautiful apartment, though probably not as big as this one. You can stay with us as long as you need to. You can find a different job if you want it, or not. You can date Aaron, if that’s who you want to be with. You can eat what you want, be who you want, and have...” She shrugs. “Me. My family.Our,” she says as her eyes flick to me, “family.”

“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just know that you’re not alone in this. You have a choice, and I’m offering you a safe place, no strings attached, no expiration date. But it’s your decision, and no one can make it for you.”

I squeeze Charlotte’s hands, my thumb brushing across her knuckles in an attempt to comfort her, even though it’s not enough to erase the fear she’s feeling right now. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We’re here for you.”

Beatrice’s presence looms behind Charlotte, and I can feel the toxic energy radiating from her like a storm about to break. She crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing with disdain as if she’s already decided how this will play out. But Charlotte isn’t looking at her anymore. She’s looking at me, then at Amelie. She’s looking at the people who are offering her a lifeline.

“I...I can’t just leave, right?” Charlotte says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t do anything else, my job is all I have—my only chance to?—”

“No,” Amelie interrupts, her voice rising just enough to cut through the self-doubt Charlotte is tangled in. “This isn’t your only chance. You’re not defined by a job or by someone else’s expectations of you. You’re allowed to choose what makes you happy, Charlotte. What’s right for you.”

Charlotte swallows hard, her gaze flicking to me.