“Humanities is a great major, but yes, Jada told me about your business. What do you research?”
Her dad perked up. There was nothing he liked more than discussing his research, even if ninety-nine percent of the population had no idea what he was talking about. “Biomedical research on pulmonary hypertension. Heart disease is the leading cause of death in the US, but Black Americans are thirty percent more likely to die than white Americans.”
“That sounds like important work you’re doing.”
Her dad took a sip of wine. “Thank you. We tried to get Jada to come work with us, but she has persistently rejected our job offers.”
Her mom leaned forward. “Yes, gallivanting all around New York, Europe, and L.A. was much more important to her than having a steady career doing meaningful work helping us better the world’s scientific knowledge. I’ll never understand it.”
Jada wished she could be mad. Maybe she should be mad. She’d never hurt anyone because of her choices in life, had actually brought humor to some, but her parents didn’t care or understand. They liked facts and figures. Theories that could be proven or disproven. Science didn’t care about feelings.
Her dad nodded in agreement with her mom. “Yes, we wanted her to come home, but she decided a reality show was a better option. Have you seen the show, Donovan?”
Donovan squeezed her leg under the table. “I have.”
“I can’t understand why or how anyone thinks they can find a partner, let alone a spouse, on a reality show.”
He shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. In any case, we love having her at the shop.”
“Yes, a cupcake shop, is it?” her mom asked.
“Yes, it’s a bit of a labor of love for me and my business partners. We hoped to bring a bit of whimsy and good sweets to San Diego.”
Jada stuffed a mushroom in her mouth to stop a sigh from escaping. Her mom and dad were in tag team mode. Time for her dad to speak. “Did you do business analyses on opening the store? The property is in a popular part of town. You could sell the building for a tidy sum. I’m not sure of the profit margins for cupcakes.”
Donovan, because he was who he was, handled the interrogation like a pro. “I did do quite a bit of research about the best use for the property, and then my business partners and I decided you can’t put a price on dreams. We’re doing well, thanks in no small part to Jada’s influence.”
“I see.” Her mother turned her way. “Jada, we saw you two on the morning show. Was it really necessary to bring up your dyslexia?”
Jada carefully set her fork down. There was no longer any use pretending she was enjoying the food or could even eat. Her parents always did this. Made her feel that none of her choices were good enough. But she had to stand up for herself. She had to try. “It’s the truth, and I wanted her to understand why if I stumbled over the words on the cue cards.”
Confusion settled on her mom’s face. “Why would you have done that? We got you the best tutors and therapists money could buy to help you.”
“Money can’t cure dyslexia,” Jada muttered.
Her dad harrumphed. “Of course not. We know that. We are doctors, after all. However, we didn’t see the relevance in that moment. You were doing just fine.”
“Actually, you should be proud of your daughter for bringing it up,” Donovan said quietly, but forcefully. “We’ve had several people reach out to us to thank her for mentioning dyslexia and the therapies and work-arounds she has learned to employ. A mom said she asked her son’s doctor about them, and it’s already helped him in the classroom. And I haven’t gotten into how much she’s helped us increase business at the shop in her short time there. She’s been a godsend.”
“What exactly are you doing, Jada?” her mom asked, undoubtedly more than happy to leave the discussion of dyslexia behind.
Jada lifted her chin. “I’m planning events.”
“Oh. I see.” She didn’t find this news impressive.
“Nina,” Mrs. T warned.
“I don’t think you do,” Donovan said. “Her vision is incredible. She has her pulse on the community and instinctively knows what they’re looking for.”
Jada’s chair scraped back against the wooden floor. “Donovan, don’t bother. Excuse me. I’ve lost my appetite.”
* * *
Jada paced around the kitchen, hoping, praying she would tire herself out enough that the anger driving her motions would drain from her. Coming here had been a big mistake. But she’d done it anyway because she was a hopeless fool. Her parents were never going to accept her, be proud of her. How silly to think they would. Planning events at a cupcake shop? That, in no way, compared to saving mankind.