Emmy and her band were in the middle of recording their follow up album, so she couldn’t go back to Fallbrook with me for Memorial Day. Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded giving it a pass too, but it was always such a big deal for Mom that there was no way I could avoid it.

Stephanie had emailed asking if I was coming back down for the holiday and if I minded if she went with us again. “I know it’s a big deal for you guys,” she wrote. “Last year I kind of enjoyed it. I mean, it was sad and all, but it was cool to see them honor your dad like that. Anyways, if you’re going, I’d like to go, too.”

Emmy didn’t mind me spending that time with Stephanie as long as I promised to come back to her, which was an easy promise to make.

Mom and Tiff picked me up at the airport down in San Diego. Tiff was happy to see me, but seriously disappointed that Emmy hadn’t come to visit.

“Doesn’t Emmy miss us?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“Yes, she does,” I replied, picking her up for a big hug. “But you know how she’s making music, right? Well, her band is in the studio recording another C.D. right now and she just couldn’t take any time away. I promise we’ll both come back in a couple of weeks when school is over, O.K.?”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely. In fact, why don’t we call Emmy right now to tell her I got here safely, and you can ask her yourself.”

I carried Tiff out into the parking lot as she chattered on the phone to Emmy, following as Mom led the way to aunt Alicia’s Camry. Seeing my confusion, Mom explained “Oh, the car needs new C.V. joints and brakes. I’ve been putting off taking it in, but I don’t trust it for a drive all the way down here so I borrowed Alicia’s car.”

“Hmm…” was all I could reply.

I told Mom that Steph wanted to go with us to the cemetery again, and she was O.K. with it. “So, you two are still friends?” she asked, curious.

“Yeah, we talk once, maybe twice a week. Mostly about college, you know, but sometimes we just talk about whatever.”

“Oh, Lee. Is that fair to Emmy?”

“What?” I asked. “No, it’s not like that. Steph and I are just friends, that’s all. Emmy doesn’t mind. I mean, she isn’t jealous at all.”

“If you say so,” Mom replied, clearly unconvinced.

The rest of the drive the conversation turned to school, my workouts, Emmy’s music, and other similarly harmless topics. I was relieved, because Mom’s questions had made me feel vaguely guilty even though there was no reason for it. I mean, Steph and I were really just friends, after all.

When we pulled into the parking spot at the apartment a couple of guys in suits leaning against a white car stood up and walked over.

“Miss Farmer?” the first guy asked, looking at my mom.

“That’s Mrs. Farmer,” Mom corrected. “How can I help you?”

“You’re Leah Farmer?” he asked for clarification.

“No, that’s me,” I said, interposing myself between Mom and this guy.

He looked surprised, but he handed me his card and a set of car keys. Well, I call them keys even though they were really just the electronic remotes for keyless entry, but you know what I mean. “My name’s Jack Powell. I work at Temecula Valley BMW. Here are the keys for your courtesy car, Miss Farmer.” He indicated the white sedan he and the second guy had been leaning against. “Mr. Lascaux said it’s yours as long as you need it. Just give me a call when it’s time to pick it up, and I’ll come get it. My number’s on the card, right there,” he said, pointing to the numbers on the card. “If you have any problems with the car, or it isn’t suitable, please call.”

“Um, thanks, Mr. Powell-”

“Jack,” he interrupted. “Please, call me Jack.”

“Jack,” I said, “I’m sure the car is fine. It’s this one, right?” I asked, walking over to the brand new BMW sedan.

“Yes,” he said. “Here. Let’s just…” he said as he reached for the keys to open the car. I handed them over and he popped the door open to show me the interior, as if he were going to sell the car to me.

Not wanting to spend any more time on it, I glanced in, then said “Looks fine. Thank you, Mr. Powell. I’ll call when it’s time to pick it back up,” I said, sticking my hand out for the keys. He got the hint, and handed them over. I closed the door and locked it, then gave him a smile that was clearly meant as a dismissal. “Have a good afternoon,” I wished him as I turned back to Mom and Tiff. I reached down and picked Tiffany up and headed towards the stairs, and Mom got the hint and grabbed my bag and followed.

Once we got settled in the apartment, Mom asked “Did you know Mr. Lascaux was going to give you a loaner car?”

“No, I had no idea. Emmy must have put him up to it,” I said, flopping down on the couch.

“Well, it’s really nice of him,” she said, surprising me. I was honestly expecting some minor tirade about wealth not earned is wealth not worth having, but she didn’t go there.

“Yeah, it is,” I agreed. “It’ll be nice to have a way to get around for the next couple of days.” Then, changing the subject, I asked “Do you have any plans for dinner?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Mom said. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, kinda,” I admitted. “How about I treat tonight?”

“We don’t have to go out, you know. I can fix something pretty quickly.”

“I know, but I want to take you and Tiff out tonight. Someplace nice, you know?” I suggested, hoping I could talk her into it.

“Should you be spending that kind of money? Honey, your scholarship money has to be tight,” Mom objected.

Knowing this discussion was going to happen sooner or later, I thought we might as well get it over as soon as possible. “Mom,” I said, crossing over to sit at the table with her. “I have lots of money now. I mean, a whole lot.”

Mom gave it a moment’s thought, then asked “Because of Emmy?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Look- Emmy and I are going to get married, Mom. We’re living together right now, right? But what I haven’t told you is what’s already happened. Emmy, she-” I paused, not sure how to say it. “She told me that as far as she’s concerned, we’re already a committed couple, and the best way to do that with the laws the way they are is to legally bind us together as much as possible, as if we were already married.”

“Isn’t this rushing things?” Mom asked, unsure about the arrangement.

“Well, there are, um, circumstances, I guess, that indicate that taking too long would be a bad idea,” I hedged. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s important we move forward with our life, and since we can’t get married yet in California, and since this is our home and where our families are we don’t want to go and get hitched somewhere else, we’re just going to make it as official as we can right now.”

“So what does this have to do with being able to afford a nice dinner out?” Mom asked, trying to figure out what this verbal diarrhea had to do with anything.

“Well, I guess what I’m getting at is, well, now Emmy isn’t the only one who’s rich. It’s all my money, now, too,” I blurted out.

“What exactly do you mean?” Mom asked, her voice sharp.

“I mean that my name is on the bank accounts, too. What’s Emmy’s is mine, and what’s mine is Emmy’s. The house up there at Stanford is in both our names, and so are the cars and everything. I mean, all of it.” I knew Mom wasn’t going to be too thrilled about all this, and I have to admit the conversation was going exactly as I’d imagined it would. Awkward and uncomfortable, for sure.

“So, let me get this straight. Emmy just handed over half of her wealth to you? Just like that?”

“Yeah, pretty much. It was a surprise to me, let me tell you, but I understood what she was doing,” I replied, trying not to get defensive. “I mean, she’s trying to make it as much like we’re already married as possible, even if we don’t have the certificate that says we’re legally married.”

“And you’re O.K. with that?”

“Mom, I’m more than O.K. with that. I would be happy to go to Massachusetts or someplace like that where we could actually get married, and we’re gonna do that if things don’t change here in California. But for now, we’re doing what we can right here.”

“And so now you have a lot of money,” Mom stated.

“Well, yeah. I do, Mom.” I said it a bit defiantly, but not too much. I wanted it to be clear that this was the way it was, and that was all there was to it.

“So I shouldn’t feel guilty ordering the lobster at dinner tonight?” Mom joked, evidently not wanting to make more of a fight about it.

“Order two,” I agreed, happy that she’d decided to defuse the argument.

I did some searching online and found what seemed to be a good choice for a nice dinner for the three of us down in Escondido. I was happy I’d packed some nice clothes, because the restaurant was classy enough to require dressing up a bit.

“Wow, Lee, you look great,” Mom said when she saw me in the dark blue pencil skirt and jacket. “I mean, you always look good, but with that outfit on you look like, I don’t know, some sort of women’s magazine model or something.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “Emmy’s been getting me to dress a little bit more, I don’t know, classier, I guess,” I said.

“Well, that suit looks fantastic on you. Where did you get it?”

“Uh, it was a little boutique in San Jose,” I answered, surprised at Mom’s interest.

“It looks so good, Lee. It looks like a designer label or something.”

“Uh, yeah, it is,” I said, wishing the conversation was over.

“Really?” Mom asked, surprised. “A name I would recognize?”

“Armani,” I admitted.

“Armani? Isn’t their stuff usually really expensive?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling guilty at the money I’d spent on the clothes I was wearing.

“How much?” Mom asked, and I detected a slight note of disapproval in her voice.

“A lot,” I said, hoping it would satisfy her, but no luck.

“How much, Lee? I’d like to know.”

“I guess it was about four grand for this outfit, but that didn’t include the accessories,” I admitted, holding up the little black clutch.

“And how much did that cost?” Mom demanded.

“I’m embarrassed to admit,” I replied. Mom gave me a look, so I confessed. “It’s a Jimmy Choo. It cost almost twelve hundred bucks,” I mumbled.

“And all this makes sense to you?”

“Well, no, Mom, it doesn’t in some ways, but in some other ways it does,” I said, trying not to sound too defiant, but also trying to make a point. “Mom, in some ways, the price of clothes like these is just the price of admission in some circles. If Emmy and I show up to some of the parties we’ve been going to in anything less nobody would take us seriously.”

“And what kind of parties are these, exactly?”

“Well, social business parties,” I said, wishing this whole conversation would just go away.

“Hmm,” Mom said, letting it slide. I guess sometimes wishes do come true. “Well, I guess I need to tell Tiffy to put her best dress on.”

Tiffany was excited to ride in the BMW sedan that Emmy’s dad loaned me, but Mom was giving off her reverse snobbery vibe and going out of her way to ignore how nice the car was.

I pulled up to the front of the restaurant to the valet stand, over Mom’s objections. “Mom, don’t worry. It’s only a few bucks,” I said, and she resigned herself to going with the flow.

Dinner was nice, and the seating on the restaurant’s large balcony overlooking the entire west side of the town was fantastic. True to her word, Mom got the surf and turf. Tiff got an unusual mac and cheese with bacon and I had the roasted chicken. When the check came, Mom made some noises about splitting the bill, but I said “Mom, I’ve got this. I invited you and Tiff out to dinner, and I picked where. I’m paying,” I said, laying one hundred and fifty dollars in the little folder.

On the drive home, Mom was quiet for a while, thinking about something, but I wasn’t going to ask her what. It was probably something I didn’t want to hear.

That night, after Tiff went to bed, Mom made it clear she wanted to talk.

“I guess I shouldn’t begrudge your newfound wealth, Lee, but-”

“No, Mom, no ‘but’ anything,” I interrupted. “Look. It’s not as if I went out to try to score a rich husband, or in this case, wife. The person I fell in love with and want to spend my life with just happens to be well off, all right? I mean, I’d want to be with Emmy even if we had to live in a box by the river. I have to admit, where we live is nicer than a cardboard box, but still…”

“Lee, I understand that, believe me, I do,” Mom protested. “I just don’t want to see money change you.”

“Well, it already has,” I admitted, “but probably not in the way you’re concerned about.”

“What do you mean?” Mom asked.

“Well, for starters, I’m changing my major to Business as of next year, for one. Also, I’ve been learning a lot about money in general. I’ve been doing most of our financial stuff, giving Emmy more time to concentrate on her music.”

“So, you’re taking this seriously?” Mom asked, sounding a bit surprised.

“Yeah, Mom, I am. This is my life now, and will be from now on out. I’m happy, and doing what I’ve been doing for the last six months has somehow felt like the right thing. I wish I could explain it more, but…”

“It’s funny,” Mom reflected, thinking about what I’d just said. “Here you are, starting out your life as a, I don’t know, investment banker or something, and you’re not even nineteen years old yet. I’m about to turn forty, and I’m worried about the cost of keeping my old car running.”

“That’s something I wanted to talk about, too. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up,” I said, not looking at her. “I’d like to buy you a new car.”

“Oh, honey, I appreciate it, but that’s just too much. No, don’t worry about it, really. Besides, what would Emmy say about you spending money like that?”

“Honestly? She doesn’t understand why I haven’t bought you a new house yet.”

“A house?” Mom asked, surprised. “She thinks you should buy me a house? That’s, I don’t know, ridiculous!” Mom said, surprised. “You two can’t just waste that kind of money!”

“Mom, I told her we couldn’t buy you a house because you wouldn’t accept. It isn’t because we can’t afford it.”

“You could afford to buy me a house? Just like that?” The amazement in her eyes almost made me laugh, but there was no way I was going to do that.

“Mom, since February, I’ve bought over forty-five million dollars of real estate up there in the Bay Area.” I said it calmly, as a simple statement of fact, knowing that would be the most effective way to communicate.

She just stared at me for a long moment, a look of shock on her face. Finally, she asked “Are you serious?”

“Yes, Mom. I am serious. Very serious. Like I said, I’ve been doing most of the financial dealings, and this is what I’ve done. I started a corporation, hired some staff, and I’ve been buying properties. Mostly residential homes, but some small apartment buildings and a couple of commercial properties as well. I’ve sold a few, too, but most of them I plan on holding for a while. Now is a good time to buy, and it looks as if we’ll get great return in a few years.”

Mom just listened, not commenting, so I continued. “I’ve been talking to some people about doing some V.C. investment.” Seeing the look on Mom’s face, I explained. “V.C. means venture capital. It’s when somebody has a good idea for a business, but needs money to get it off the ground. A V.C. investor funds the development of the company in return for partial ownership. It’s how all the new tech companies get going these days.”

“And you’re doing all this?” Mom asked, still trying to take it all in. “All this real estate investment, this V.C. stuff?”

“Mmm hmm,” I nodded.

“What do Emmy’s parents think of you throwing their money around like this?”

“Mom, it’s not their money. It’s not ‘Emmy’s money’. It’s our money. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. When Emmy turned eighteen and agreed to fulfill her family obligations, her parents released a bunch of money to her. Like a trust fund, I guess. From that point on, she could do anything she wanted with it, anything at all. What she chose to do is to give it to me. Not half,” I added. “All of it. It’s all mine, and it’s all hers. There’s no separating it. It’s our money.”

“But Lee, what if things don’t work out with you two?” Mom objected.

“They will.”

Mom looked as if she were about to say something more on the subject, then changed her mind. With a quick smile to indicate that she was going to let it go, she asked “So, you have an office and everything?”

“Yeah, just a little one for now. Maybe when things get to a level we can’t handle we’ll expand, but we don’t want to do it too quickly.”

“I’d say that you’re moving very quickly,” Mom jibed. “What’s the rush?”

“Seriously? You want to know?” I asked, trying to make it clear that this wasn’t a joking matter.

Mom got the hint and turned serious. “What is it, Lee?”

“Mom, we’re in a rush because we kind of need to be. Emmy has some sort of genetic condition that means she’s going to die young. Like, thirty, maybe thirty-five years old at the most.”

“What?” Mom gasped.

“You know how she used to say she has some sort of albino thing? Well, it turns out she actually does. It’s why her hair is white, and she can’t tolerate the sun much at all. It’s really rare among her people, and everybody that’s born that way always dies by their early thirties. So that’s why we’re in a hurry. Because we only have ten, fifteen years together at the most.”

“Oh, Lee, that’s… I don’t even have words for how sorry I am.”

“Yeah, me either,” I admitted, choking up despite myself. “But now you understand why we might seem to be in a hurry.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, taking me into her arms. It had been a while since I’d felt that familiar sense of security that only a warm hug from Mom could give, and I found myself breaking down and crying. I cried for Emmy, I cried for myself, and I even found myself crying for the kids that Emmy and I plan on having who will grow up like me, with only childhood memories of a long-gone parent.

Mom said nothing, understanding that there was nothing that could be said. She just held me and let me cry myself out, supporting me in her silent way. Eventually I ran dry and Mom let me go, fetching me a glass of water for my sore throat.

“Get some sleep, Lee. Get some sleep,” she urged, so I did just that.

Saturday was an open day for me, so I called Stephanie to see what she was up to for the day.

“I can’t talk right now, I’m at work,” she said when she answered her phone. “I’ll call you at break”.

Tiffany was playing at a friend’s house and would be gone a lot of the day and Mom had left a note saying she had extra office hours because of the end of the term but would be home for lunch. This left me a few hours with nothing to do and no real desire to get dressed and go out.

I called and talked to Emmy for about an hour, not really even saying much. Just talking to hear the sound of her voice. After that I turned on the T.V. to see what was going on in the world, and what I noticed most was the car ads. Thinking about buying Mom a car, I fired up my iPad and checked various web sites, so when Mom got home I was ready.

I was dressed in a nice business skirt suit, my “professional shark” look, as Donny had described it. When I asked him what he meant, he said “Well, you know, like a high-priced lawyer or something. All sleek and elegant like a shark, but you know is gonna take a bite out of your flesh.”

“You look- well, very impressive,” Mom said when she walked in the door. “What’s the occasion?”

“We’re buying you a car,” I announced.

“Lee, honey, I appreciate it, but-“

“No, no buts,” I interrupted. “You need a new car. You’ve had that old Toyota since I was little, and it’s time for a new one.”

“But I like that car,” Mom objected.

“Yeah, I like it, too, but it’s just time to put it out to pasture,” I replied, and it hit me like a flash that we had somehow switched roles. I was acting like the parental figure and Mom was the kid I was trying to talk out of her security blanket. “Look,” I said, turning my voice gentle. “You need a reliable car. You’re a single working mom, and a car that breaks down every now and then is just no good. Let me buy you a new one.”

“But Lee, I just don’t feel right about you spending Emmy’s money on me like that,” she objected.

“Mom,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I told you. It’s my money, too. I can do whatever I want with it. And what I want to do right now is buy you a car.”

“But-“

“No. No buts. I’m buying you a car. Now, you can come along and pick it out, or I can go by myself and choose something for you, but in either case, you’re getting a car today.”

“Lee,” Mom said, her eyes turning angry. “Don’t talk to me as if I were a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!” was what I wanted to snap back at her, but I stopped myself just in time. “Mom, I didn’t mean it that way,” I apologized. “It’s just- this is something you need, and it’s something I can get for you. You’ve done so incredibly much for me over the years, let me do something for you.”

My little reverse guilt trip seemed to work. Her eyes softened and her shoulders dropped a bit. “Honey, it isn’t about that. I know you want to help, and I appreciate that, I do. I just don’t want to take some sort of charity from you and Emmy, is all.”

“It isn’t charity. It’s a gift, from me, to you. When I was little all I could give you were macaroni picture frames. Now, I can give you the safety and security of knowing that your car won’t let you and Tiff down.”

Soon enough we were at the car dealership. Mom kept looking at the base models, but when it came time I told the sales guy we wanted the fully loaded version of the Subaru wagon that Mom liked.

Mom objected, but eventually I was calling our banker to get the money wired to the dealership. An hour later we pulled out of the lot, me in my loaner BMW headed to Stephanie’s house and Mom behind the wheel of her brand new dark green Subaru wagon. She was going to drive around a bit, then pick Tiffany up from her friend’s place. I wished I could be there to see Tiff’s face, but oh well. I’d gotten Mom to accept the car, and that was a big battle won.

Later, when I told Stephanie about the morning and the struggle to get Mom to accept a gift from me, she responded, “You wouldn’t, like, catch me saying ‘no’ to a new car!”

“So it wouldn’t bother you to just accept a gift like that?” I asked.

“No way. I mean, like, it’s a gift, right? You’re giving it to her because you love her, and you know she needs it but couldn’t buy one on her own, right? There’s nothing wrong with that,” Stephanie said with conviction.

“Well, see, that’s how it seems to me, too. I just hope Mom sees it like that, too.”

“I’m sure she will. Like, right now the whole idea of you having money is still weird to her, you know? But soon it’ll just be the way it is- especially if you don’t really act any different. Like you always did, I mean.”

“That sort of made sense,” I teased.

“Yeah, well, sometimes I do,” Stephanie replied, smiling. That smile of hers still melted my heart a little bit, even though I feel guilty admitting it. I mean, I love Emmy with all my heart, but somehow there is still a little bit of room in there for Steph as well.

“So what do you want to do today?” asked Stephanie. “I have the rest of the day free.” A thought occurred to her, and with a mischievous smile she said “We could go swimming?”

“I thought your mom didn’t want you hanging around with me any more,” I objected. “What if she came home while I was here?”

“Well, you want to know something terrible? If she, like, saw that brand new 540 in the driveway and found out it was yours, her attitude might change. If she thought you were doing really well, I mean like rich, she would probably want me to spend as much time with you as possible.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m totally serious. She’s told me a million times that if I want to have a lot of money, I need to surround myself with people that have a lot of money. So if she thought you were loaded she’d be all over me to get close to you.”

“That’s kinda shitty,” I said, not wanting to say much against Mrs. Houk, but also more than a bit appalled.

“Yeah, but I can also understand what she means. I mean, not like, marry money, you know, but just get into the mentality, I guess,” Steph said, defending her mom a little bit.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I conceded, still not convinced.

“Didn’t you tell me once that Emmy had subscriptions to, like, the Wall Street Journal? I think that’s what my mom means. People who have money think differently, and hanging around with them it might rub off.”

“I guess I can see her point, but it’s still weird to tell your kid something like that,” I argued, but really, I could see her point.

“Well, whatever,” Steph said, indicating she wasn’t interested in arguing, either. “So what should we do? I don’t have anything to do from now until tomorrow night.”

“What’s happening tomorrow night? I asked, curious.

“Well, you remember Brett’s band, right? The Prodigal Sons? They’re playing at a club down in San Diego.”

“Like, a bar kind of club?” I asked, puzzled.

“Well, yeah,” Stephanie answered.

“I guess I’m not understanding why this has anything to do with you,” I replied, puzzled.

“I manage them now,” Steph said, as if I should have known. “In this case, that means I have to go down and, like, man the merch table, and make sure the club owner meets his end of the contract- mainly because the boys can’t deal, you know?”

“You never told me you were managing their band,” I said, amazed. “That’s cool!”

“Seriously, I don’t know how they ever got along without me. They had, like, no freaking idea how much to charge to play their gigs, for one. I had to go out and do research on what was standard and all. Also, they didn’t even have any merch to sell besides the CDs they had made. Even those they paid too much for.”

“That is so awesome, Steph. It sounds as if you are really treating this like a pro,” I said, amazed.

“Thanks. I really had no idea what any of it involved when they first asked me to sell merch for them at shows. I did some reading and talked to the boys about me being their manager and they agreed to give it a shot, so I found a contract online and had everybody sign it. I read some books about managing bands and next thing you know, I’m, like, making more money managing a local band nobody’s ever heard of than working at my job at Target- and it only takes a few hours a week.”

“That kicks ass, Steph. I mean it. That really kicks ass.”

“Well, it doesn't compare to you doing your real estate investments,” Stephanie protested.

“You know what? Actually, it kinda does. I may be dealing with a whole lot more money, but both of us are learning an entirely new thing and making it work, right? I mean, I got a huge head start because of Emmy’s money, but I’m learning the ropes of the business by doing it, just like you are,” I told her, meaning every word.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“So, now we’ve settled on what we’re doing tomorrow night,” I started, but Stephanie interrupted me.

“We?”

“Well, I’m gonna come down and watch, of course.”

“What part of ‘it’s a bar’ didn’t you catch? I can get in because I’m working, but they won’t let you in,” Stephanie protested.

“Yes, they will,” I said. “I have a one hundred percent believable fake ID.”

“You're kidding me!” Stephanie exclaimed, her eyes wide. “Let me see!”

Grabbing my wallet, I took out my fake ID and showed it to her. “Washington State?” She asked, examining it closely. “Why not California?

“Just the way it worked out,” I replied, shrugging. “But I’ve never had it fail me yet.”

“Can you get me one?” Stephanie asked, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“Sure. You just need to get a passport photo and I can have the rest done,” I agreed.

“So like, do you have some sort of criminal connections now?” she asked, partly playfully and partly serious.

“If I told you I’d have to kill you,” I replied, smirking.

“You totally do!” Stephanie exclaimed, her eyes wide with excitement.

We didn’t really do much that day, but I did go to the bar in San Diego to watch The Prodigal Sons play Friday night. It was a little place by the airport and it really reminded me of some sort of cave or something. The guys were good, and their set was almost entirely originals, unlike the other times I’d seen them mostly do classic rock tunes. The one song they did that I recognized was actually a Downfall tune, which I thought was kind of awesome.

I mostly hung out at the merchandise table with Stephanie and watched her play the potential buyers. She was flirty, but kept turning their attention back to the stuff for sale- a real natural saleswoman. What really fascinated me, though, is what happened after the show was over. Talking to the club manager, she didn’t give an inch.

“I counted the door,” she said to the guy. “There was a capacity crowd of two hundred here tonight. The Sons brought in the gate. Two hundred times ten is two grand, Jake. They did a good job of selling the liquor, too, and we didn’t even ask for a cut of the sales- that’s just the guys being professional and doing the club square.”

“Yeah, and I appreciate it, Stephanie, believe me, I do,” the manager replied. “It’s just that even national touring bands don’t generally make as much here as you guys tonight. It throws off the scale.”

“Yeah, not my concern. The deal was signed, and you’re making good money, too, so just give me the cash and let’s talk about another date.”

Watching Steph go toe to toe with this guy who has clearly had many, many bands perform in his club really impressed me. He was trying to take advantage of her inexperience and she just wasn’t having it. Finally he caved and handed her two thousand bucks cash, and they agreed on another show date for the following month.

On the drive back to Fallbrook, I asked “So how much did it all amount to tonight?”

“Well, gate was two grand, and we sold about three hundred and fifty bucks worth of merch.” Stephanie said, going through it in her mind as she spoke. “Generally we make about sixty per hundred on the merch, after costs, so we cleared roughly two hundred there. So, like, twenty-two hundred for the night.”

“And how much do you keep as manager?” I asked, curious.

“Twenty per cent. Same as each band member,” she replied, a bit defensively. “But look, if it wasn’t for me, they never would even have booked that show.”

“No, I get it, I really do,” I said. “I’m just curious, is all.” Thinking about it for a moment, I asked “How many shows do the Sons do a month?”

“Well, it’s been more and more, so, like, I can’t really give you a good answer for that. When I started working with them they were only doing club shows once in a while, and playing parties for beer. Now they’re getting recognition, I’m able to book them gigs pretty much every weekend, plus a few here and there midweek.”

“And do they always make this kind of money?”

Stephanie laughed and said “I wish. No, this was a really good night. It’s usually half this. But we’ve been booking better places more and more.”

“Can I ask you something?” I asked.

Turning to look at me, Stephanie said “What do you mean? You know you can ask me anything.”

“Do you see a career doing this?” I asked.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Steph replied, after a moment’s thought. “I mean, like, I’ve been thinking about it a bit, and you know, my major is marketing, so it kinda ties in, you know?” Stephanie was quiet for a bit, then said “Yeah, I guess I can. It’s fun, I’m making good money, and it really doesn’t take much of my time.”

We finished the rest of the drive in silence, lost in our own thoughts.

Knowing Emmy would be up late, I called and she actually answered. After telling each other how much we missed each other, I told Emmy about seeing the Sons play, and about Stephanie being their manager and what she’s been doing for the band. “They’re starting to take off,” I told her. “And a lot of it is the work that Steph has been doing for them.”

“It sounds as if she is helping them very much,” Emmy agreed. “I am glad to hear they are doing well.” And with that, we switched back to talking about how much we missed each other and what we would do if we were together. I fell asleep with a warm glow in my heart and an ache in parts farther south.

Sunday rolled around and Stephanie showed up right on time for our drive down to San Diego. Mom wanted to drive her new car, so we all piled in the Subaru. Tiff was finally old enough to not need the booster seat and as a result called shotgun every chance she had. I didn’t mind, because it gave me a chance to sit and talk to Stephanie in the back seat.

“I got an email yesterday,” she said. “Do you know anything about this?”

“How would I know anything about something you’re only just now telling me about?” I asked, puzzled.

“It was from a record label. They want to sign the Sons.”

“That’s awesome!” I replied. “Congrats!”

“Yeah, well, the reason I ask if you know anything about it is that it’s the label the Downfall is on,” Stephanie explained.

Suddenly it clicked, and everything became clear. “Well, OK, I knew nothing about this,” I said, “But we own that label. Emmy must have talked to them about signing the Sons.”

“You guys own the label?” Steph asked, stunned. “Like, really own it? Completely?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“So you're saying Emmy put them up to this? To emailing me about signing the Sons?”

“It makes sense,” I agreed. “I talked to her the other night about how they’re really taking off, and she must have spoken with the guys at the record company about it.”

“So tell me more about how you actually own a record label,” Stephanie insisted, staying on-topic.

“Well, when it was time to record an album for The Downfall, no record company was willing to offer a deal that we thought was reasonable, so Emmy went out and found an independent label that she liked- I think because of the other bands they’d signed, honestly- and she made them an offer. The owner agreed to stay on as CEO, and there it is. Our own label, ready-made.”

“So, like, is offering a deal to the Sons some sort of charity deal? If so, I’m not even going to respond,” Stephanie said, and I could hear the anger in her voice.

“Honestly, and I say this without knowing about whatever conversation Emmy might have had with Diego Garcia, the label boss, I doubt it. When we bought the label we made it clear the label was still his to run.”

“So what do you think happened, then?” Stephanie demanded, still angry.

“If I had to guess, I’d say that Emmy called Diego and told him to check the band out. I don’t think he’d want to sign a band just to kiss ass.”

“Hmph,” Stephanie hmphed, letting me know she wasn’t totally convinced.

“Look, call Emmy and ask her. Just ask. She’ll tell you the truth.”

“I don’t have her number,” Stephanie objected.

Eventually Stephanie gave in and used my phone to call Emmy, but it fell on voice mail and Stephanie didn’t leave a message. Instead she texted the number to her phone, then used her phone to text Emmy. About this time we arrived at the Marine Corps Recruit Depot and were waved to a parking spot by a fresh-faced young Marine.

The ceremony was a lot like it had been the year before (and the years before that, too) but dad’s old buddy wasn’t there this time. After the ceremony we went to lunch at a really nice seafood place right on the bay and I treated. This bothered Mom a little bit, but she didn’t make a stink, for which I was grateful.

I had to hop on a plane back to the Bay Area that night, so after we got back home I gave Stephanie a goodbye hug and relaxed for a bit before heading to the airport.

“Lee,” Mom said as she sat down on the edge of the couch where I was just vegging. “I’ve been thinking.”

“What about?” I asked.

“About you and Emmy, and your new wealth, things like that,” she answered, and I can’t say I was surprised one bit.

“Yeah?”

“Lee, I’m sorry for being hard on you about this, I really am. I know you didn't set out to marry money. I understand that. I am just concerned that you may be rushing things. No, wait,” she said as I was about to object. “I understand what you said about having a fairly short window of time together, and there’s nothing I can say to let you know how bad I feel about that, but I’m just worried you’re rushing into becoming an adult too fast.”

“Mom, I’m eighteen now. Legally I am an adult,” I said, trying to not get upset. I mean, I know Mom only wanted the best for me, but it was really time she started to understand that I was perfectly capable of making my own way now.

“Of course I know that, but you're still my baby girl, and you always will be. I can’t stop feeling like a parent simply because a date on the calendar says you're an adult now.”

“I don’t want you to stop feeling like my mom,” I said. “I just want you to accept that you've done what you can to prepare me for the world and now it’s time for me to act on what you've taught me.”

“Oh, Lee,” Mom sighed. “I know it is. I know it is. It’s just… harder than I ever thought it would be.”

I had no good response to that, so I kept quiet and let Mom gather her thoughts.

Eventually, she just gave up on finding anything to say and sighed again. “Lee, just… You’ve always been a serious kid, more like a little adult than anything. I can easily believe that you’re taking on all these responsibilities, and I would be surprised if you weren’t doing very well with them. I know how you are, and I’d expect nothing less. All I ask is that you, I don’t know, take some time for yourself, I guess. It’s O.K. to be a little selfish sometimes, to do things just because you want to, not because it’s what’s required or expected of you.”

Flying back to San Jose, I thought a lot about what Mom said. Was I doing all these things because it was expected of me? Eventually, I came to realize that while there might have been some sense of duty that was motivating me, mostly it was because I wanted to be someone Emmy would be proud to marry. Like Jack Nicholson said in that comedy with Helen Hunt, she makes me want to be a better person. If that meant being an investor and wealth manager so she could do what she needed to do, well, I was happy to do so.

I could be the queen the Strays needed when Emmy was unavailable. It felt good to help them out, and that was its own reward. I was going in to my new duties with my eyes open.