Szelem called Jada at ten o'clock at night. It was September, and in Destiny City, the night was beautiful. Jada stared at her cellular phone where it glowed and vibrated on one of the posh seats next to her on the front porch of her home. There was an unlit tucked behind her ear, the scent heavy and heady, reminding her of the small box her father had kept his watch in. Michael had only rarely smoked cigars, and never smoked anything else, yet he had imparted a love of the smell to his daughter.
A fine smell it was, Jada decided. History, Labor and Luxury, all rolled up into something that burned faster than money in Vegas, and was gone forever.
Her feet were bare, small feet tipped in green nail polish. It glowed in the light of her cell phone as Szelem called again- fifth time in a row. No voice messages.
Finally she lifted the phone, pressing the button that would answer it. There was a moment of silence before she spoke at last, interrupting the sound of her mother grumbling into the receiver of her own phone. “Mother.”
“Jada.” the older woman's voice was sore, husky and earthy. She'd been drinking, and probably smoking too. Szelem was probably quite thoroughly drunk by now. Hell weren't kids supposed to be the ones drunk-dialing their parents, not the other way around? The young woman remained silent, seething on her end of the line, waiting for her mother to speak. “Jada?” Anger tinged her mother's voice so easily.
“I'm here.”
“Good.”
Silence wasn't golden, like the pre-movie commercials always said. 'Silence is Golden!' they proclaimed to the ringing of cell phones and wailing of babies; right now, the silence was thick and heavy, pressing down on Jada's head like the weight of a thousand waves. “What do you want, Mother?” she asked finally, breaking through the sound of ice clinking in a glass and her mother swallowing. “It is three in the morning where you are.” At least. Where was Szelem now? Paris? Milan? London?
“Mmmm, closer to four.” Szelem beamed into the phone from where she was. Drunk would make this so much easier.
“Go to bed.”
“No. Respect your mother.”
No. It was not said, but the answer was there in Jada's silence. “Yes ma'am.” she said finally. “Why did you call?”
“Come to Monaco.” the request was sudden.
“Monaco?”
“Yes. I want to talk to you. And phones are stinky.”
What in the nine hells was her mother doing in Monaco? And how was she drunk at four in the morning? “I couldn't come for a few days. I need to get someone to stay with Zora.”
“Send her to the Man.” the cultured voice was bitter.
“She has school, Mother.” She isn't Kayley, to allow herself to be locked up in a jail. She isn't me, focused on her work. Zora needed direction, and Jada had to find someone to give it in her absence. “I'll be there Friday.”
Szelem hung up without saying goodbye. It didn't bother Jada. She stroked her phone thoughtfully, and then dialed a travel agent. She'd see about getting in touch with Nanny in the morning.
A fine smell it was, Jada decided. History, Labor and Luxury, all rolled up into something that burned faster than money in Vegas, and was gone forever.
Her feet were bare, small feet tipped in green nail polish. It glowed in the light of her cell phone as Szelem called again- fifth time in a row. No voice messages.
Finally she lifted the phone, pressing the button that would answer it. There was a moment of silence before she spoke at last, interrupting the sound of her mother grumbling into the receiver of her own phone. “Mother.”
“Jada.” the older woman's voice was sore, husky and earthy. She'd been drinking, and probably smoking too. Szelem was probably quite thoroughly drunk by now. Hell weren't kids supposed to be the ones drunk-dialing their parents, not the other way around? The young woman remained silent, seething on her end of the line, waiting for her mother to speak. “Jada?” Anger tinged her mother's voice so easily.
“I'm here.”
“Good.”
Silence wasn't golden, like the pre-movie commercials always said. 'Silence is Golden!' they proclaimed to the ringing of cell phones and wailing of babies; right now, the silence was thick and heavy, pressing down on Jada's head like the weight of a thousand waves. “What do you want, Mother?” she asked finally, breaking through the sound of ice clinking in a glass and her mother swallowing. “It is three in the morning where you are.” At least. Where was Szelem now? Paris? Milan? London?
“Mmmm, closer to four.” Szelem beamed into the phone from where she was. Drunk would make this so much easier.
“Go to bed.”
“No. Respect your mother.”
No. It was not said, but the answer was there in Jada's silence. “Yes ma'am.” she said finally. “Why did you call?”
“Come to Monaco.” the request was sudden.
“Monaco?”
“Yes. I want to talk to you. And phones are stinky.”
What in the nine hells was her mother doing in Monaco? And how was she drunk at four in the morning? “I couldn't come for a few days. I need to get someone to stay with Zora.”
“Send her to the Man.” the cultured voice was bitter.
“She has school, Mother.” She isn't Kayley, to allow herself to be locked up in a jail. She isn't me, focused on her work. Zora needed direction, and Jada had to find someone to give it in her absence. “I'll be there Friday.”
Szelem hung up without saying goodbye. It didn't bother Jada. She stroked her phone thoughtfully, and then dialed a travel agent. She'd see about getting in touch with Nanny in the morning.
