Anne Bentley Visits the Gallery
Anne ignored her and turned to Jan who said to her mother in a loud and very perturbed whisper, “You could have at least acknowledged her existence, Mother. She was trying to be nice.” “Janice, really. Come now, she’s only your secretary,” Anne said, annoyed at being corrected, a distinct smirk on her face and slight arrogance in her tone of voice. “She IS NOT my secretary! She is my assistant AND my friend. AND, as far as I’M concerned, there is nothing ‘ONLY’ about her!” Jan responded, standing her ground. Anne was not in the mood to argue with her daughter, especially when knew she was right. “Whatever you say, my dear. Whatever you say.” “You got that right! Now that we’ve dispensed with the opening salvo, can I offer you some coffee? It’s not espresso, but it is a nice French roast,” Jan offered. “No thank you, dear. So, this is,” Anne started, clearing her throat as she tried to find the right words, “your gallery? You have quite some - how shall I say? ‘interesting’ pieces for sale here, dear.”
“Thank you. I know they'll never measure up to your standards, but I like them. Now, what do you want? You didn't fly all the way from the Hamptons to discuss art,” Jan told her mother evenly.
“No, I didn't. I'm here on some business,” Anne said as she looked at a painting. “I'm meeting with some studio executives about a merger and thought I'd take the opportunity to drop by. You never reply to my calls or emails anymore.”
Jan was not amused. “There's a reason for that, Mother. We have nothing more to say to each other. I told you that I'm going to live my life my way, without any interference from the family.”
“Interference?” her mother exclaimed. “Janice, what has happened to you? What turned you against us?”
“Oh, Mother, please,” Jan spit back. “Take your pick. The stupid coming of age party you threw me, those insipid jerks with silver spoons up their butts you forced me to hang out with only because of their parents.” Jan took a breath, lowering her voice and softening her tone. “Mother, Mom, I love you and John and Kelly, but…”