The Ugly Duckling (Excerpt)

Uproar

"What do you mean when you call my daughter your leading lady?" Adele's measured tones did not faze Harris.

"It can only mean one thing, Chef Adele. She's the star of Lighthouse Production's newest holiday offering," he said, and Jeanette served him a neat whisky without asking.

"What? You needed some big girl to play the dumb, plucky, but clueless heroine?" she asked confrontationally, and he raised a brow at her.

"No, mam. I needed an actress of substance with emotional depth, relatability, charm, poise, and that spark that attracts an audience. Mercedes ticked all of those boxes. She has a great presence and has done a splendid job portraying my mother."

"I thought Durscilla signed that role?" Kelsey asked with a frown when my mother seemed to have difficulty computing what Harris said.

"She was not a good fit, despite her resemblance to her grandmother. She also didn't possess the right chemistry with Dean, so we cast her as the villain. The story is based loosely on my mother's life, but Tessa wrote it as a novel."

"And what does Druscilla say about this?" Kelsey asked.

My mother often took more than a few moments to absorb unexpected things and chew on them.

The problems usually started when she stopped processing, and I braced myself, stopping just short of downing a little liquid courage.

"And what experience does Mercedes have with acting that qualifies her for a lead in such a big movie?" Adele asked.

And here it was: that little note of disbelief touched with the tiniest bit of condescension.

"She majored in drama and has Jeanette as a coach. Plus, she's dealt with my shit for three years. She can handle any situation and remain absolutely calm, even when I'm being a raging asshole, and Mirelly gives up and goes home until I decide to act like a human being; she calms me and handles me."

"Harris, let's be real. My daughter," she motioned at me, making it very clear what she meant, "is not leading lady material, and I will not watch her get her heart broken."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Kelsey said, toppling her chair and turning on my mother for the first time in our lives, and I'd never heard her swear.

Adele hates it.

Seeing Kelsey fight for me was almost worth the hurt in my heart and nausea churning in my stomach as all my old insecurities streamed back from the darkest recesses of my soul.

"Mercedes does not need anyone breaking her heart when she has you to do it for her. Do you want to know why she won't come home and live in LA? I'll tell you. You are the reason she doesn't come home.

"You are so busy protecting your helpless little lamb from the world that you can't see that the only thing she needs protecting from is you."

She gestured from mother to me with those artistic hands of hers.

I often thought that she would probably be a painter or a sculptor if she were not a chef.

"Why are you always so hard on her? If I do something wrong, you shrug. Mercedes doesn't even need to do anything; just the possibility that she might is enough to get you dictating to her like she's a moron.

"Right now, you are shocked that she didn't tell you what was going on in her life. I applaud her for untying the apron strings and having her own life without your constant micromanaging disapproval. If you raised me the way you raised her, I wouldn't be a world-renown chef; I'd be surprised if I could tie my own fucking shoes."