Extraordinary by Nancy Werlin Read Free Book Online Page B

Sure, your mother probably wants you to have a career and all that, to use your mind and contribute, like you said.”
    Mallory’s voice got a little tight. “But she’s also just so—so motherly. In her own way. So you’ll have things to worry about in life, sure, because everybody does, but for one thing, there’s no way you’ll ever worry about money. She’ll make sure you’re all right, always, just like she does with your dad.” A tiny pause. “I mean, he’s a really nice guy and you know I just love him. And he’s a great father and all. But he’s not, you know, your dad’s not—he’s sort of ordinary. You’ve said that yourself about him. I mean, compared to your mother and her family and all.”
    Phoebe shrugged.
    â€œI’m sorry, Phoebe. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. What I’m trying to get across—and doing a terrible job, obviously—is that your mother will always love you. Even if you turn out to be ordinary. You have the freedom to be ordinary. That’s all. I’ll shut up now.”
    â€œI know what you mean,” said Phoebe. And she did. She knew she would always be loved. But that was not what Phoebe had been talking about, when she said her mother had expectations of her.
    So Phoebe had changed the subject, because there was no way that Mallory was ever really going to understand this, and maybe also it was a little bit hurtful to even try to talk about maternal expectations and pressures with Mallory, given how different Mallory’s mother was from Catherine.
    Phoebe had been standing in Catherine’s open office doorway too long. She saw her mother feel her presence, and look up from her meeting, the crow’s-feet around her eyes and mouth deepening in a smile as she met her daughter’s gaze. Catherine lifted one hand to indicate that she was going to be busy for a few more minutes. Phoebe nodded, made a “don’t rush” motion with her own hand, and moved on into the family room, where she found her father standing tensely in front of the television.
    Drew Vale claimed that he was a rational being who knew perfectly well he couldn’t control the play in a football game by standing in front of the TV shouting. But you wouldn’t know this from watching him.
    Phoebe was used to her dad. She noted that the Patriots were ahead and sat down on the sofa to wait for a commercial so she could tell him about Mallory’s brother’s impending homecoming. He would be interested, she knew. Both of her parents would be. They were fond of Mallory and understood how important she was to Phoebe.
    What Mallory had said about Phoebe’s father was mostly true. He was fifteen years younger than his wife. He worked—not terribly often, to be truthful—as a producer of documentaries. People sometimes whispered that he was really a sort of peculiar boy-toy who had had the good luck to meet the extraordinary (but not exactly sexy or beautiful) Catherine Rothschild when she was past forty and wanting to marry and have a child. There had been all sorts of talk. But the bottom line was that Catherine and Drew’s marriage worked, even if outsiders found it odd, and even if some people sneered at Drew. (Nobody ever sneered at Catherine; not even, at this point, behind her back.)
    One reason the marriage worked was that the couple shared a near-complete indifference to what other people might think. Catherine Rothschild had trained herself to feel that way, but Drew Vale came by it naturally. It was, in fact, the quality in him that had originally caught and held Catherine’s attention.
    Phoebe was not like either of them in this. She knew it too.
    A commercial came on. Drew turned to his daughter and listened with interest while she told him about Ryland. “Mallory thinks maybe her mother will perk up once he’s here,” she said. “But isn’t it