Pretentious and misguided lawyer Leila discovers a new passion in her job when she is assigned to defend a sixteen-year-old boy for murder against the state. Unfortunately, what she presumes to be an open-shut case is more complex. The hottest rappe...
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I glanced at my watch as I waited for my mother. Trisha, was late as usual, and I prayed that this wouldn't be another one of our typical bi-weekly brunches dominated by my mother's stories of drama and entitlement. Minutes felt like hours until I finally saw Trisha walk in with all of the dramatic flair that had come to define her. She wore a billowing robe and sapphire jewelry, overdressed for brunch but not caring one bit. She didn't say a word of apology or even hello before calling for the waiter.
"If you aren't in a rush," Trisha said, looking at her menu, "I would love to have the brunch special- Mimosas! I should get one every weekend." she laughed as I began looking over the brunch menu.
Trisha launched into her week's drama, barely pausing for breath as she outlined preparations for the upcoming gala hosted by an organization of older black housewives from her upper middle class neighborhood.
"You remember the gala we held to raise funds for the women's clinic in Africa last year? Well, we're hosting another and you must attend." A flash of guilt rushed through me before I replied; as a defense lawyer, my free time was becoming increasingly sparse.
"Mom, I don't think it's a good idea for me to attend the gala," I said firmly.
I knew the gala was important to my mother, but I also didn't want to be in the same room as Quentin Jones. It had been years since Quentin and I had last seen each other, and I didn't want to relive the memories of our past relationship.
"Why not? It's going to be a great event, and everyone will be there. You can't miss it," Trisha replied flippantly.
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. I couldn't believe that my mother was still trying to control my life. I knew that I had to stand up for myself, but it was hard when my mother was always so demanding.
"Mom, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't want to go. I don't want to see Quentin or his family. It's just going to be too awkward," I said.
Trisha rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You're being ridiculous. Quentin is married now, and it's been years since you two broke up. You need to move on and start dating again."
I let out a heavy sigh, knowing that my mother wouldn't let the topic go until I gave an answer. I thought about how complicated my relationship with Quentin had been. We had dated for several years in college and after graduation, but eventually, our differences became too much to bear. Quentin wanted a simple life, while I wanted to pursue my dream of becoming a lawyer. We had split up, but we had always had an unspoken understanding. I had seen him once since then, at a mutual friend's wedding. We had exchanged polite conversation, but it was clear that the spark between us had fizzled out.
Trisha looks at me, studying my face. "You're still in love with him, aren't you?"
I felt a flush rising in my cheeks. "No, mom. I'm not. Can we change the subject, please?"
