The Ex-Mrs. Hedgefund Read Online Free PDF Page B

in subtle hues, their fragrance filling the air. The vibe: filled with the bitter flavor of rage. As soon as Miles went into the den to watch The Wizard of Oz on TV, Sherry Von unleashed her own flying monkeys of wrath. Finally, after a dramatic drawn-out silence, Sherry Von spoke.
    â€œI always knew she was garbage,” she pronounced.
    I felt my stomach drop.
    â€œMother, please, let’s just enjoy dessert,” Tim interrupted.
    â€œNO. I won’t be quiet for Holland’s sake.”
    I always hated when the spotlight was on me. I got instantly toasty on the back on my neck, cringing from her gaze. And Sherry Von always called me Holland, my real given name, which was my mom, Lillian Holland’s, maiden name. I could tell that for Sherry Von, the more sedate “Holland,” versus the staccato “Kiki,” seemed less playful and more fancypants. Even after years together, with everyone on planet Earth calling me Holly, I was only Holland to Sherry Von. Which would be fine since I loved my name, but I just knew her shady motivation for clinging to it was reinforcement that I came from what she considered to be an acceptable family versus Kiki’s. The Silversteins, meanwhile, were a fun, spirited, hilarious crew. Kiki and her two brothers would never call their mom “Mother” the way Tim and Hal did. Which was another reason I felt a kinship with her from the start: I knew she hailed from a more affectionate, caring family, like mine, despite Sherry Von’s nose in the air about her clan’s stature or lack therof.
    â€œYou were thick as thieves, you two,” Sherry Von said, pointing a skinny, bejeweled finger at me across the grand table as Hubert quietly refilled her wineglass. “You fought for her acceptance, and now look! DISGRACE! She cheated on our Hal. She brought filth into their bed.”
    I looked at my lap, shuddering. “There was no ‘bed.’ They just kissed,” I began in her defense.
    â€œCheating,” pronounced Sherry, “cheating is a MORTAL SIN, in my book, Holland. After all those vows that courtesan pledged at that tacky wedding with that horrible chair dance, after all those oaths before our friends, she HUMILIATES us. And she has the GALL to challenge the prenup!”
    Said prenup was signed by both my ex-sister-in-law as well as yours truly. It was a Stone Age-style offering of a million dollars, with more depending on years spent together and number of children. Since Kiki’s number of offspring was zero, she was to take the mil and walk. Kiki didn’t want to milk Hal, but she wanted to buy an apartment and move on, so she challenged for a little more. Most women go for half the fortune (which was probably around $100 million), but Kiki just wanted the whole thing done with pronto.
    â€œIt’s not all black-and-white,” I feebly ventured. “Sometimes things don’t work, and there are always two sides—”
    The fiercest hurricanes could not temper Sherry Von’s meteorological reaction.
    â€œNOT. IN. THIS. FAMILY. HOLLAND. TALBOTT!” She always spoke with full stops between words, for effect, not unlike an earsplitting trumpet blaring short bursts; I had actually noticed Tim grifting off this pattern of speech of late as well, and I did not enjoy any like-mother-like-son parallels. It was Sherry Von’s trademark punctuation vehicle in which to fully deliver her accentuated fits of ire. Her frail framed quivered and boiled with fury as she cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes, glaring at me as if I were committing high treason.
    â€œWe. Stick. To. Gether!” (table pounded on “gether”) she continued. “And if some disgusting earthworm of a whore crawls into our homes and deceives us, we turn our backs on that worm FOR. GOOD. She is FINISHED in this town, finished! No clubs, no boards, nothing. You BETTER not allege that there are ‘sides’ here!