The Daughters Take the Stage

by Joanna Philbin

“We’re not supposed to be perfect, H,” Carina said. “That’s the worst thing you can be. Perfect.”

  Hudson knew Carina was right. “Okay. Here goes.” She pressed the Talk button again. This time she dialed the number she’d written down on a piece of paper.

  A man picked up. “Ray’s!” he yelled into her ear.

  “Hi, I’d like to order a large plain pizza, please,” Hudson said carefully, as if she were speaking another language. “Or do I say cheese? Is cheese extra cheese or is it just plain?”

  “What?” the man said.

  “Nothing,” Hudson said. “I’ll just take a plain pizza. For delivery. Seven-fifty Washington Street.”

  “Large plain—you got a doorman or a buzzer?” he yelled.

  “A buzzer,” she said.

  “Fine. Twenty minutes.”

  Click.

  Hudson hung up the phone.

  “Good for you,” Lizzie said, reaching out and grabbing Hudson’s arm. “I’m proud of you.”

  “I still don’t know why Hillary wants me to do this,” Hudson said.

  “I do,” Lizzie said. “How are you ever going to start living your own life if you don’t even eat what you want?”

  “Yeah,” Carina said. “Maybe Creepy Crumple is onto something.”

  “Dinnertime!” Lorraine yelled over the intercom in Hudson’s room.

  “Don’t worry, H,” Todd said, helping her to her feet. “I think you’re going to do just splendidly with this junk food.”

  “Thanks, Todd,” Hudson said. He was so adorably English sometimes.

  The three of them walked down the stairs to the kitchen, while Hudson thought about her friends’ advice. She couldn’t help it if she was used to eating healthfully. It was the right thing, after all. But the right thing for whom? It was hard to know sometimes. Her mom always prided herself on being the healthiest person she knew. Maybe even the healthiest person in America. But maybe being the healthiest person in America wasn’t so healthy, Hudson realized. Maybe the point was to be healthy, but to not let it rule your life.

  Hudson led the way into the kitchen and they took their places around the empty table.

  “Remember,” Carina said, sipping from the glass of triple-purified water at her place setting, “no matter what happens, it’s just pizza.”

  Behind them, Hudson heard the elevator door rumble open, and soon Holla strode into the kitchen in a shiny silver trench coat, with Sophie in tow. “I’m meeting him tonight at the Rose Bar,” Holla said, speaking into her cell phone. “I’ll let you know what he says.” She clicked off. “Sophie? Get us that sofa near the fireplace. And let Mr. Schnabel know we’ll be there if he wants to join us.”

  Holla unbuttoned her trench. Instead of her usual studio uniform of warm-up suit and ponytail, she wore a black sweater with a deep V-neck and blue jeans tucked into knee-high leather boots. Her hair was down around her shoulders and curled at the ends. It was Hudson’s favorite look for her mom—smart and elegant, but casual.

  “Hi, everyone,” she said, smiling at her daughter’s friends. “I didn’t know Hudson was having guests tonight.” Even though Holla liked her privacy, she never seemed to mind when Hudson had her friends over.

  “It was sort of a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing,” Hudson said. “Mom, this is Todd.”

  “It’s a pleasure, Miss Jones,” Todd said, standing up and offering his hand.

  “You can call me Holla,” her mom said, shaking Todd’s hand. Hudson could see that she thought Todd was cute. “So nice to meet you. Hello, girls,” she said, leaning down and giving Carina and Lizzie each a hug and a kiss.

  “Hi, Holla,” Lizzie said.

  “Hi,” Carina murmured.

  “Oh, it feels good to be home,” Holla said, tossing her trench coat over the back of one of the bar stools by the island. “Another long day of mixing.”

  “So… how’s it going?” Hudson asked. She never knew how exactly to talk to her mom around her friends. Lizzie and Carina were always a little uncomfortable around her, which made Hudson uncomfortable, too.

  “We’re getting a lot done, and thank God Chris is on board,” Holla said as she scooted into the booth next to Hudson. “I realize now I should have had him this whole time.” She looked at Hudson and frowned. “What if you got some bangs? I think they’d look cute on you. Don’t you guys think?” she asked Lizzie, Carina, and Todd.

  “So, Todd is a writer,” Hudson said, changing the subject before they could answer. “Just like Lizzie.”

  “Oh?” Holla asked as Lorraine brought her a tall glass of ice water with lemon.

  “His story is up for best short story at the entire school,” Hudson said.

  “Really?” Holla said, smiling as she sipped her water. “That’s wonderful. What’s it about?”

  Todd blushed. “It’s not really anything,” he said, waving it off.

  “It’s about Lizzie,” Carina said, smiling.

  Hudson was relieved to see her friends relaxing in front of her mom.

  “Really? So are you guys dating?” Holla asked.

  “Uh, yes,” Lizzie said shyly.

  “Ohhh, that’s so cute,” Holla said. “Is there anyone in Hudson’s life? She doesn’t tell me a thing.”

  Hudson gulped and looked down at her plate. “Mom, please,” she said under her breath. Bangs were one thing to discuss in front of her friends. Her love life was another.

  “Everything’s ready!” Lorraine called over from the island. “Come and get it!”

  Hudson shot up from her seat and walked to the kitchen island, where Lorraine had set out a buffet.

  “Baked tofu with sea-vegetable slaw,” Lorraine said, gesturing to a platter heaped with what looked like stringy black seaweed. “Plus, sesame broccoli and wild rice with beet chutney.”

  “Where’s the pizza?” Carina whispered desperately.

  “Just take some,” Hudson whispered back, spooning giant gobs of wild rice onto her plate, and even some of the sea-vegetable slaw. “It’s hijiki.”

  “Hi-what-ee?” Carina whispered back.

  “It’s not bad.” Hudson went back to her seat and politely began picking at her food.

  “Did Hudson tell you guys that I’m singing one of her songs?” Holla asked between tiny mouthfuls of wild rice.

  Her friends nodded as they pretended to eat. “H is really talented,” Carina said.

  “I know,” Holla said. “And at least now the world is gonna have a chance to see that.”

  Hudson gripped the fork tighter as she swirled food around her plate. She knew that her mom meant this as a compliment, but inside she felt like cringing.

  “Honey?” Holla asked. “What’s wrong? You love hijiki.”

  “I’m just not in the mood for it tonight,” Hudson said.

  “Well, is there something else you’d rather have?” asked Holla. “How about a crispy seitan sandwich?”

  There was a buzz at the back door. Hudson, Lizzie, and Carina all sat up. The pizza had arrived.

  “Are you expecting something?” Raquel asked Holla as she walked out of the kitchen to the back door.

  Holla shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  Raquel went to the elevator as Lizzie, Carina, Hudson, and Todd exchanged urgent looks. This is it, Hudson thought. The moment of truth.

  Raquel returned, carrying a pizza box. “Did somebody order a pizza?” she asked, scrunching up her face in horror.

  The smell of melted cheese and oregano filled the room, answering her question.

  “I did,” Hudson said, springing out of her chair. She ran to the back door to pay the delivery man. When she returned, her mom was staring at the pizza box with undisguised fury. Carina and Lizzie and Todd looked down, inspecting their plates. Even Lorraine looked terrified. But the room smelled delicious.

  “Hudson, you’re being rude to Lorraine,” Holla said evenly.

  “I know,” Hudson began. “But I just felt like having pizza t
onight.”

  “Throw it out,” Holla said to Raquel. “And sit down and finish your dinner,” she said to Hudson. “I don’t know what kind of point you’re trying to make, but this is ridiculous.”

  Carina glanced up from her plate and gave Hudson a meaningful eyebrow raise. Hudson understood. She couldn’t back down. Her heart pounding, she opened the pizza box and grabbed a thin, greasy slice.

  “Hudson,” Holla said. She sounded like she was struggling to stay even-tempered. “What are you doing?”

  Hudson took a gooey, cheesy bite. “Yum,” she couldn’t help saying. She couldn’t remember the last time anything had tasted this good to her.

  “Do you know how bad that is for you?” Holla asked.

  Hudson swallowed. “That’s really good.” She turned to her friends. “Want some?”

  Carina and Lizzie and Todd all nodded eagerly.

  “Go ahead, you guys,” she said. “Have some.” She walked the pizza box over to the table and held it out.

  Carina quickly grabbed a slice. Then Lizzie did. Then Todd. Now all four of them were eating pizza and licking their fingers.

  Holla watched them for a moment, her brown eyes glittering with anger. Finally, she picked up her fork and knife and sliced into her tofu. Lorraine and Raquel went back to quietly moving around the kitchen.

  Hudson couldn’t believe what she was doing. She was eating three of her mom’s most hated food groups—dairy, wheat, and grease—right in front of her. And Holla wasn’t stopping her. As soon as she finished the first slice, she reached for another with her greasy, cheesy fingers. So did Carina and Lizzie, and even Todd. Before long, they’d eaten the entire pizza. The empty grease-streaked box lay open on the kitchen counter. Hudson still stood next to it. She’d been too scared to sit down next to her mom, afraid that Holla might rip the slice right out of her hands.

  “Can we be excused?” Hudson asked, finally daring to look at her mother.

  Holla chewed her food and stared at her plate. “Yes,” she said quietly. “And please get rid of that.”

  Without a word, Hudson took the pizza box into the hallway near the elevator and threw it into one of the recycling bins. As she clamped the top onto the bin, a thrill went through her. I did it! she thought. Maybe her “point” had been ridiculous, but she’d definitely made one.

  She walked out to the hallway, where her friends were waiting for her.

  “Oh my God, your mom was shooting dagger eyes at us,” Carina whispered as they walked up the stairs.

  “Are you okay?” Lizzie asked.

  “I’m great,” Hudson said, grinning. To Holla, food was a very big deal. Food was control. And Hudson had just taken control in Holla’s house, for the very first time.

  chapter 11

  The next morning Hudson walked downstairs very, very quietly. She hadn’t seen Holla since the pizza showdown the night before, and she wasn’t sure what to expect. Hudson knew that she was in uncharted territory here.

  She placed her book bag on a chair in the hall and walked into the kitchen to grab something to eat, steeling herself for a confrontation. But instead of Holla at the kitchen table, Chris Brompton was sitting there, reading the New York Post and sipping a soy cappuccino, like he enjoyed breakfast at Hudson’s house all the time.

  “Oh, hey, Hudson,” he said, putting down his coffee. “’Morning.” He got up out of his seat halfway and then just stood there awkwardly. Instead of jeans he wore long plaid swimming trunks and a burgundy T-shirt that read BONDI BEACH.

  “What are you doing here?” Hudson asked. She glanced at the kitchen clock. It was quarter to eight.

  “Oh, your mom just wanted me to come take one of her yoga classes,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I’m just booting up with some caffeine.” He held up his cup and took another sip, which left foamed soy milk all over his upper lip.

  Lorraine walked into the kitchen. “Anything I can get you, Hudson?” she asked.

  “I’ll just have this,” Hudson said, opening the refrigerator and grabbing an orange.

  Lorraine retreated into the pantry, leaving them alone again.

  “So, yoga, huh?” Hudson said, starting to peel her orange. “You better be careful. It’s not for beginners.”

  “I can handle it,” Chris said, sitting back down. “And I hope you’re not weirded out by anything. You know, about me working with your mom.”

  “No, I think it’s great,” she lied, tearing off a hunk of orange peel. Even though she was still annoyed with him, being this close to him again, all alone, brought her back to that dizzy, exhilarated feeling she had when she worked with him in the studio. Or used to have, in the days before her mom had barged in. He’d made her feel so talented, so special, so seen.

  “Just so you know, I was really surprised when you wrote me that e-mail,” he said, looking straight at her. “About quitting the album. You’re an amazing talent, Hudson. I hope you know that.”

  “Then why were you okay with changing it all?” The question had just slipped out.

  “What do you mean?” Chris’s laid-back smile dissolved into a frown.

  “When my mom came in and changed every song, you seemed totally fine with it.” She stared right into his eyes. “Why? If you thought I was so talented?”

  Chris looked dumbfounded. He stared into his cappuccino, then stirred it with his spoon. “Just because I respect your mom’s talent and opinion doesn’t mean I don’t believe in you,” he said. “And I think your mom happened to be right.”

  So he had no real answer, Hudson thought. Only an excuse for her mom. Chris had completely gone over to the dark side. “Well, I guess I better be going,” she said, just as her mom walked into the kitchen.

  “Well, good morning,” Holla said, glancing first at Chris and then at Hudson. Her canary yellow yoga top looked beautiful against her dark brown skin, and was cut short to reveal her formidable six-pack. “And you actually made it,” she said to Chris.

  “I know,” Chris said, sitting up straight. “My friends would never believe this.”

  “Hi, Mom,” Hudson said.

  “Hi, honey,” Holla answered warmly. “You sleep okay?”

  “Great,” Hudson said. Her mom didn’t seem to be the slightest bit angry. Or maybe she just didn’t want to show it in front of Chris.

  Holla fixed her gaze on Hudson’s feet. “They let you wear those boots to school?” she asked, pointing at Hudson’s Russian Spy/British Punk knee-high boots. “What about the ankle boots? The heels are so much lower—”

  “I gotta go,” Hudson said, backing out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Bye, Hudson,” Chris said, waving.

  “Bye, Chris,” Hudson said tonelessly.

  “Get ready to have your butt kicked,” she heard Holla tease Chris as she walked out to the hall, grabbed her book bag, and pushed the elevator button with a sick feeling in her gut.

  They’re into each other, she thought. She’d seen that look on her mom’s face before, and heard the way Holla’s voice went up an octave whenever she was around someone she liked. And Chris was just her type: young, hunky, and boyishly handsome. Just like Hudson’s dad.

  But instead of feeling angry, she felt oddly Zen about it all. Her crush on Chris Brompton was officially over. She’d asked him straight-out why he’d caved so quickly to her mom’s demands, and instead of being honest, instead of just saying that he liked her mom, that he’d wanted to date her, he’d talked about “respecting her opinion.” Whatever, Hudson thought as she got into the elevator. She’d done the right thing, backing out of that album. Except she wanted that feeling back—that feeling of being talented, of being special in her own right. And now it seemed like she would never feel that again.

  *

  A few hours later she and Lizzie and Carina headed to the library for their free period.

  “You don’t have any proof,” Lizzie said definitively, toying with the chain link wristband of her watch.
“All you know is that he was there for yoga.”

  “Yeah, like six hours after they hung out at some bar the night before,” Hudson said.

  “He’s probably terrified of her,” Carina said. “I thought she was going to murder us all last night. Good job, by the way. You totally rocked that pizza thing.”

  “Thanks,” Hudson said. “But it just makes me sad, you know? Like, I’ll never have that again. Someone who made me feel the way he did. And now he’s going to be my stepfather.”

  “He’s not going to be your stepfather,” Lizzie said.

  “You think that every time your mom gets involved with someone,” Carina said. “And, well, you know what usually happens.”

  Hudson did know. Her mom’s relationships never lasted long. The men Holla picked always seemed so enamored of her. Until something changed. Sometimes she found out that they were still married, for example. And sometimes, the guys would start to retreat, as if a few weeks of constant togetherness were all they could offer. And every time, Holla would be destroyed. Her last boyfriend had been twenty-six and a sound engineer, and even though Holla had dumped him, and not the other way around, she’d come to Hudson’s room every night, crying, for a week straight.

  “You just need to focus on school right now,” Lizzie said as they took a seat at one of the library tables. “We all need to.”

  Lizzie was right; Miss Evanevski had just warned them of a quiz the next day in Geometry. But just as Hudson pulled out her notebook she spied Hillary across the room, sitting at a table, alone, and wearing a bulky knit sweater with blue and purple sequined butterflies on it. She was doing the New York Times crossword again.

  “I’ll be right back,” Hudson said, getting up.

  “Tell your life coach you had two slices,” Carina said, a proud grin on her face.

  Hudson walked over to Hillary’s table and slid into the seat across from her. “So guess what? I did it. I ordered a pizza.”

  “But did you actually eat it?” Hillary asked, her pen poised in the air.

  “Yep! Two whole slices!”

  “Great,” Hillary said, capping her pen. “Did it taste good?” Hudson noticed the magenta plastic barrettes clamped firmly on either side of her head, and wondered if Hillary’s mom still did her hair.