A screen popped up asking for her shipping address.
“What’s the address here?” Emma asked.
“That would be Hummingbird Trailer Park, Hummingbird Lane #13, Terlingua, Texas, 79852,” Sophie answered.
Emma held her breath as she punched in her credit card information next and let it out in a whoosh when she finished.
She pressed the “Submit” button. A screen immediately popped up that said her credit card was invalid. She couldn’t remember the last thing she’d bought with it, so the card company was probably just being super careful. She laid the phone aside, went to her room, and got the actual card from her purse. Using the landline, she called the number on the back and found that her card had been closed as of that morning.
“Mother is really in control of my life,” she groaned.
Sophie poked her head inside the open doors. “Did you say something to me?”
Emma slid down to the floor and put her head into her hands. “Mother has shut down my credit card and probably frozen my bank account.”
“How can she do that?” Sophie asked.
“She insists on being on all my accounts. What money I have comes from what my grandmother left for me. I didn’t get a job while I was at college. The interest goes into my checking account each month and Mother’s name is on the account as well as mine since I’m . . .” Tears spilled down Emma’s cheeks. Her newly found freedom had only been a pipe dream.
Sophie picked up her cell phone, poked a few buttons, and said, “There, I fixed it.”
“How?” Emma asked without raising her head.
“I used my credit card.” Sophie shrugged and went back to work.
“I can’t let you do that,” Emma said.
“The wrong time to tell someone that they can’t do something is right after they’ve already done it.” Sophie came into the living room and sat down beside Emma. “You gave me all those beautiful hand-me-downs when we were growing up. I’m just repaying the debt.”
“B-but . . . ,” Emma stammered as more tears flooded her cheeks.
Sophie slung an arm around Emma’s shoulders. “There are no buts in friendship. Your things are ordered, and you will be beautiful when they arrive. And, honey, it’s tough to shut off a grown-up’s credit card, so we’ll check into this.”
“Sophie, you don’t understand.” Emma tried to suck it up, but it felt so damn good to cry that she gave up and sobbed like she hadn’t done in years. “I have maybe a hundred dollars in my purse. I can’t begin to pay . . .” She buried her head in her hands and wept.
“I guess you’ll have to find a job or make something to sell.” Sophie motioned toward all the art supplies stacked in the corner of the living room. “The buyer comes out here every few weeks to get Filly’s, Arty’s, and Josh’s work. Produce something that will interest him, and you won’t need to depend on Victoria for anything.”
“I haven’t touched brushes since . . .” A flashback of the last painting she had been working on came to Emma’s mind.
“Since when?” Sophie pressured.
“I went to my apartment . . .” She frowned. “The night I went to my apartment and used a knife from the kitchen to slash my painting.”
“Why did you do that?” Sophie asked.
“I have no idea. The vision just came to me in a flash. My therapists say I have repressed-memory syndrome. Something happened that I won’t remember, but I just now remembered cutting that picture all to pieces,” Emma answered.
“What was the picture? Landscape? Portrait?” Sophie pulled her closer to her side.
“White clouds that looked like the snow angels we made one winter when we were little girls. Sunshine behind them and wheat fields ready for harvest on the ground below them,” Emma answered as she stared at the picture in her mind’s eye. “I was so angry about something that I destroyed the picture.”
“What did you do then?” Sophie asked.
“I don’t remember much past that. The next thing that comes to mind is being in an institution. Nancy would call this a breakthrough,” Emma said as she reached up over her head and picked up the phone from its base.
“Who are you calling?” Sophie asked.
Emma’s hands shook, and her insides quivered. This was Friday. Jeffrey would be driving her mother to get her weekly massage and facial at this time, so Emma called her cell phone number.
“Hello, who is this?” Victoria asked.
“It’s Emma.” The acrid taste of chocolate cereal mixed with stomach acid stuck in her throat, threatening to come up at any second, but she swallowed it down. Another vision popped into her head. She was leaning over the side of a bed covered in satin sheets and throwing up all over a white fur rug. She didn’t ever remember being in that room before. Was that the reason she hated the feel of satin?
“Are you ready to come home?” Victoria asked. “If not, we have nothing to talk about.”
Was this tough love? Emma wondered as she punched the speaker button. Knowing that Sophie was close by and could hear gave her the courage to go on. “Why did you cancel my credit cards? Did you freeze my bank account, too? How am I supposed to live?” she blurted out.
“If you want to make your own decisions or depend on Sophia to make them for you, then you can figure that out on your own. I’ll be damned if that gutter child gets a dime of my money,” Victoria told her.
“But that money is from Grandmother,” Emma said. “It’s my money, not yours, and Sophie is a famous artist. She doesn’t need my money.”
“Don’t sass me.” Victoria raised her voice an octave. “When you came home from college in a mental mess, we thought it best to let me handle your affairs, including the money that my mother left you. You should have stayed in the wellness center until I could find you a nice place where you could get help the rest of your life.”
“You were going to send me away forever?” Emma whispered. “Has this been your plan all along? To finally convince everyone that I had lost my mind and needed to be put away?”
“It was for your own good. You would have other people who had problems like yours to visit with in group therapy every day, and folks who could take care of you. Your father is retiring this summer, and I’m planning to sell the company. You would never be able to run a huge corporation, so why keep it? We sure can’t leave you alone to fend for yourself, especially while we travel, and you’re not in any shape to go with us,” Victoria told her. “We would come and visit you often in your new assisted-care center, and we would bring you home for Christmas. When you wake up from this folly and return to us, we will take you to see the place. It’s really quite pleasant.”
“So, the bottom line is come home and get locked up somewhere for the rest of my life, or stay where I am with no money?” Emma asked.
“I don’t like your tone,” Victoria said, “and Jeffrey is parking now, so I should be going.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Emma was amazed that she hadn’t thrown up.
“Why should I? You know the answer, but to make things perfectly clear, yes, Emma, that’s the bottom line. Call me when you want Jeffrey to come and get you, or else be independent and make your own decisions with no money. But that’s not your choice forever: you’ve only got a few weeks to make up your mind, and then I’ll fix it so you can’t come home again—ever. I suppose I can reach you at this number in case of a dire emergency?” Victoria asked.