The Voyos Reunion
Page 7
But there was love there, too. Where she used to resent the way her mother hid the past, Chloe now pitied it. It was easy to imagine Nicole in her shoes: young, a bit naive, struggling to feel dangerous new emotions.
Again, Chloe wondered: Who am I, other than this broken woman’s daughter? What am I, if not the product of love gone sour?
“You really do know me, don’t you?” Chloe said.
“How could I not know you? I raised you, baby girl.”
“Then just tell me, so I can at least close the box a little: Am I like him? I know I can’t be Clive’s daughter, but in the absence of any sane alternatives … am I anything like him at all?”
“Oh, yes.” Nicole smiled. “You both insist on playing by your own rules. You’re both excellent at handling people and making deals. And you’re somehow both selfless and selfish at once. Clive had a way of doing what was best for himself while everyone around him felt like he’d put his life on pause to do what was best for them. You know the story of the moon base and how building it collectively helped to unite the planet before the fall, but I saw it on a personal level whenever we were together. I always did what Clive paid me to do … but it was somehow what I wanted, too.”
“Except that he left you,” Chloe said.
“Except for that.”
They shared the silence, Chloe’s half-packed bag open on the bed.
Chloe didn’t know Clive, but from what she’d read, her mother’s words rang true. Spooner was a lateral thinker — same as Chloe. He was known for being a chameleon; people always felt like they had something in common with Clive because he mirrored them perfectly. And Clive, legend said, had a curious way of predicting the near future. Reading Crossbrace articles about him, Chloe had assumed his far-seeing ability came because he was in cahoots with the kinds of people who made the future happen, but maybe he was intuitive about the present and could extrapolate what came next.
All those traits were Chloe.
Chloe.
And Chloe again.
“I’m sorry he hurt you, Mom,” Chloe said, fighting fresh resentment, “but I wish you hadn’t hung so much on his memory. I’d understand if it was just you, all by yourself. But the delusions should have stopped when I was born, if only for my sake. You shouldn’t have implied that he was my father. Looking back, you’ve always said Clive Spooner without actually giving his name. Your father is rich, Chloe. Your father is a very powerful man. It’s like you wanted me to figure it out but refused to give me the name. You were holding onto him for us both while also trying to let him go.”
Nicole looked confused. “I never told you that Clive was your father.”
“I know you didn’t. Because he can’t be.” Chloe closed her eyes, trying to articulate. This was too frustrating to explain: Nicole’s neuroses stacked atop untruths and self-deception. “But you could’ve just said you didn’t know at all who my father was. If you’d told me that you didn’t know who got you pregnant, I’d have been able to let it go. I wouldn’t have judged you, Mom. This isn’t 2010; it’s not like I’d have run away screaming and called you a whore.”
But Nicole’s eyebrows were still furrowed. “No, I mean I never told you.”
“I know you never told me! You—”
“You really don’t remember?” Nicole interrupted. “I wouldn’t expect you to remember his name; you were far too young. But don’t you remember the games we played and our little family jokes? Our talks, about the Mystery Man on all the broadcasts?”
Now Chloe was confused.
Frustrated, growing angrier again. Definitely confused.
“What the hell are you talking about, Mom?”
“I didn’t tell you that Clive was your father,” Nicole said. “You told me.”
WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?
The Future of Sex continues in The Braverman Experiment